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Thursday, September 9, 2010

Time For Something Different, Robin

For three seasons past now, Robin Van Persie has cheated us all with long-term vanishing acts.
No fault of his, I must add.
Rather, it has been due to the never-ending injury sagas he unfortunately always succumbs to – season after season.
After reading all the newsreel and reports accompanying his latest affliction and coming away with the assessment that we will not see him again until mid-October, a niggling feeling is beginning to overcome me.
Will we ever see the full talents of this wonderfully gifted player? Personally, I’m beginning to doubt it.
He is 27 now. An age where players blossom and hit their best years. He just played in a hugely-successful Dutch side that went all the way to World Cup finals. If not for some defeatist tactics by their paranoid coach, Van Persie would probably be a World Cup winner now.
Four seasons ago, Arsenal were hanging onto a 1-0 lead against Charlton Athletic at The Valley. Suddenly, a ball was floated chest high from the midfield and without breaking stride, it fell to Van Persie, who took it first time; smashing it into the Charlton net with both feet off the ground, in a vintage display of jaw-dropping skill. It was described as a "goal of a lifetime" by Wenger and was later picked as Goal of the Month by the BBC.
In our last season at Highbury, the same Van Persie struck a beauty of a freekick from the left side of the box in a Carling Cup semifinal, second leg game against Wigan. Unfortunately, our defence later allowed Jason Roberts to score a damaging equalizer that knocked us out of the competition for that year.


Van Persie hitting the "goal of a lifetime" against Charlton in Sept., 2006

Two seasons ago in pouring rain, with Arsenal trailing 1-0 to a dogged Everton at Goodison Park, Abou Diaby floated a 40 yard ball over and above the Everton defence in the 80th minute. Approaching from the left flank, Van Persie met the ball in mid-air and connected with his left boot; burying it sweetly past a bewildered , who along with his defenders, never saw the Dutchman.
It is such moments of sheer brilliance and uncoachable skill that makes Van Persie a very special athlete and a delight to watch. His repertoire brings back memories of another supremely gifted Dutchman, the affectionate “there’s only one Dennis Bergkamp”.
Van Persie has shown how capable he is of moments like these. Of gravity-defying exhibitions of his awesome talent.
If only, he can stay fit.
At his age now, it’s beginning to look like his will be a career of truncated potential. Just like yet another gifted Dutchman – a certain Marco Van Basten.
Doses and doses of intensive medication; Litres and litres of injections can surely not leave anyone as good as new. It’s a bit like the case of professional boxers who develop brain damage after years of receiving punishing blows to the head. Or like rugby players who develop 'cauliflowers' in their ears and eventually go deaf after years of being tackled with so much violence.
Yet another Dutchman, interestingly, could have the solution to Van Persie’s endless visits to the treatment table. He is none other than one-time Arsenal bĂȘte noire, Ruud Van Nistelrooy.
He suffered a cruciate ligament injury in the knee while at PSV Eindhoven in the season before he joined Manchester United in 2002. On recovery after about ten months out, he remodeled his game to avoid tackles that could cripple him, by playing as a fox-in-the-box. In all his time at Manchester, onto Real Madrid and now at Hamburg, the Dutchman scored almost all his tonnes of goals within the 18-yard box.
Not for him are elaborate displays of skill or one-on-ones that could attract tenacious tackles; the sort that targets knees, ankles and parts of the leg vulnerable to long-term healing.
It is an example worth copying. Hard as it may be for someone of Van Persie’s array of gifts, it would be wise to err on the side of caution in this case.
He has shunned all advances and temptations to repeatedly pledge his future to Arsenal. He seems to mean it as well. Those pledges will however count for nothing if we only see him in fleeting snatches.
A consequence of his repeated absences has been the loss of his deadball abilities. When, if I may ask, did Van Persie last score a freekick for us? Can’t recollect.
Get well Robin and stay well.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Will He Ever Grow Up?

“With the great new players we’ve got we have a wonderful chance to make history. But it’s all about results. If we can win ten games in a row, people will class Manchester City as bigger than Arsenal.”



Here we go again.

Like him or hate him, Emmanuel Adebayor now of Manchester City; formerly of Arsenal FC simply cannot get over the fact that he is no more ambitious than a rain cloud.
Which is why he keeps making noises like the one above in a vain attempt at making Arsenal regret selling him.
One wonders what is there to regret when he is not even considered important enough to start games at his new club.
It all smacks of bitterness of course. Bitterness about the way he was bundled out of the club at a point when most players would have been hitting their peak and writing their names in indelible ink, into a club’s history.
We are all familiar with his story.
From a journeyman striker in Monaco who had spearheaded tiny Togo to an epochal maiden World Cup appearance in 2006, Adebayor was brought to England by Arsene Wenger and built-up to lead Arsenal’s attack with Thierry Henry.
He stuck to the script initially before unexpected fame and fortune got the better of him and we ended up with arguably the most-hated player in the club’s history.
From a high of scoring the winner against Manchester United at Old Trafford in September 2007, to the headbutting incident with Nicklas Bendtner at White Hart Lane in January 2008, the rise and fall of the Togolian had gone full circle.
In between, we witnessed the full repertoire of this flawed genius. Brilliant and willing to run like a dog one day; disinterested and petulant the next.
At the risk of incurring wrath towards his own person, Wenger eventually sold him to Manchester City last summer for a yet-unconfirmed £25million; tripling his value and making him one of the best pieces of business the club ever conducted.
Still very fresh in our collective memories was his stamp on Robin Van Persie’s face last October which earned him a four match ban. Not counting the crazy, hair-brained running the length of the pitch to celebrate his goal against us and taunt the same fans who sang his name for three years.
Adebayor is the archetypal modern-day creation of a global, marketing system that rewards mediocre talent and makes the modern sportsman believe he is the most important person on the face of the earth; a Messiah who can walk on water; the centre of the world’s gravity.
Which is why one year later, he still cannot understand how Arsenal could have dropped him on the floor so effortlessly and life still goes on.

Hellraiser in blue....Adebayor doing his thing for Manchester City
Just a summer before he was sold, he was touting his conversations with Adriano Galliani, AC Milan supremo as a prelude to some sort of move to the Milan side. So hot and in-demand he believed he was, that he openly flaunted his availability and willingness to lace boots for a “big club”. Bigger of course, he meant, than the “little” Arsenal that saved him from oblivion at Monaco and brought him to the limelight of the English premiership.
Eventually after ruffling as many feathers as possible, the Milan move never materialized but it succeeded in helping him squeeze out more money from Arsenal in form of a new contract.
Such statements like above, uttered over the weekend obviously show that the Togolian has learnt little, and changed hardly. Often, as somethings supposedly change, they remain very much the same.
He managed 13 goals in all competitions for Manchester City last season and was hardly a factor as they chased an ill-fated Champions League spot.
Clearly, he has now been usurped by the likes of Carlos Tevez, James Milner and Spanish new-boy David Silva. Frustrated last month, he issued a veiled come-and-get-me plea to invisible suitors, declaring that:

“If you’re in a team and you’re not playing, and there is a team that comes in for me, then I will definitely be on my way out because I’m a footballer and I love playing”.

Warned and ordered to fight for his place by the mercenary Manchester City hierarchy, he has since been cowed into a grudging submission. The sweet smell of the over £100,000 weekly wages he gets will very obviously not be forthcoming anywhere else.
Nonetheless, he keeps living in the past. Keeps looking regretfully at the hallowed chance he threw away at Arsenal. Keeps trying to re-open old wounds by making silly and uncouth comments against Arsenal.
The simple fact that his old mentor, Wenger has maintained a dignified silence despite the Togolian's verbal provocations, speaks volumes in itself.
Sadly for our old boy, some lessons never sink in - that in life, you learn from past failings and simply move on.