Pipe aboard the new cadet to the good ship Arsenal

By first Sea Lord Leopold Mendacious 

Welcome, Andrei Arshavin

He’s no Vladimir Petrovic, but he’ll do.

I always liked our previous signing from mother Russia, the Ukranian Oleg Luhzny. His crazy galloping runs and Playmobil hair helped fill the gap left by Lee Dixon.

Will fans flock to matches to see our new Czar? Do they care enough, anymore? I have been watching old tapes of Tony and Stevie, Paul and Paul and David. They were proper Arsenal players, ones who you could really support.

My current levels of support for the likes of Adebayor and Eboue are less than a pair of gussetless vintage Y-fronts.

They’re lazy, overpaid and have no heart.

Better to fester in the hobnailed UEFA cup with some genuine triers than prance about in the Champions League in the pink boots of decadence.

Arsenal’s next game is against Spurs. ‘Arry’s magic looks to be wearing off. As cockney as jellied eels, he has attempted to inspire his players with his repertoire of East End tricks.

But repeated concerts of ‘Arry playing the spoons to a backing of Chas n’ Dave are not having the required effect on the players. In fact, I heard from the training ground that Modric broke down and wept silently when ‘Arry gave an extended version of ‘Down to Margate’ to the first team.

Ledley King’s knee is not good, so he won’t play, despite being treated with ‘Arry’s special pie n’ mash poultice every day. Can the galumphing Adebayor take advantage though?

At the moment he is a negative force – he’s not even neutral. Last season he peaked and played well above his natural level. Was he possessed by the spirit of a better player? It looks that way now. The boss should have known.

Arsene, basically, has never got over George Weah. He was his greatest triumph, the Eliza Doolitlle to Wengers’ Prof Higgins. And he’s gonna keep signing Africans until he finds GW mk II.

But it’ll never happen.

Agents and consortiums now have tiny cameras implanted in flies, which hover over every football-playing boy in Africa aged between 5 and 13. They watch them closely, and if they spot potential they think they can exploit then a deal is done. There are no more gems to be discovered. Too many agents have pissed in the well.

So are Arsenal fans watching the attempts of an ageing Arsene trying to rekindle his great love? Are Diaby and Song simply a kind of Viagra, a desperate last throw of the dice at artificial stimulation? It looks that way.

If you boil it all down, personals-style, what you get is: “Middle aged French man, own teeth, enjoys football and, err, football, slim, seeks powerful young African men to try to re-create some good times”.

That’s the kind of analogy that I know keeps you coming back for more, readers. I know you like it. I know I do, too.

Enjoy the snow. And get a few quid on Arsenal beating Spurs by more than 1.235647353735 goals.