Having read so many of the Arsenal(ish) blogs thrust out into the virtual world, I thought I would try to begin one myself.

Briefly, I'm in my mid 30s and have been attending since a 2-1 win over Birmingham in September 1981.

I don't think I need to add to that as most opinions formed on my method, level of and general support will be garnered by those interested enough to read past my first contentious statement. Nevertheless, this will not be a blog exclusively slagging off Arsenal, or praising them for that matter. Instead, my intention is to discuss some Arsenal related topics and other observations about anything interesting I can think of.

Like many Arsenal blog fans, I feel that my inspiration has to be Myles Palmer who has informed me, yet pissed me off to a level of bewilderment for long enough. I will not rant about him too much. For anyone interested, he write for Arsenal News Review and is adamantly not an Arsenal fan. Yet now, he only writes for this site. He is informed, opinionated, humorless, unforgiving and harbours all the anger and bitterness of a Chester City fan.

Instead, I think I would prefer to post observations but then create a dialogue. Every moron, (including me), who follows football has an opinion worth listening to. Whether it informs, or serves to consolidate that which we already believe. The only test is how long someone can suffer to listen or reading before they want to walk away, tell them or me to fuck off, or share an insight.

Enough of my inexperienced attempt at the blogging equivalent of a Hitchcock establishing shot, I will stop this and get on with it.

WENGER OUT!

Several times this season, I have been campaigning against and bitching about Arsene Wenger. I have, more often than not, had enough of his methods, reasoning, protected and New Labour-esque psychobabble spin. He plays reserve captain Manuel Almunia in goal and claims Lukas Fabianski is going to be ‘a great’. He attempts to win things without a striker. He does not replace players we sell and instead uses tens of millions of pounds to re-sign unproven players to long term, highly lucrative contracts. So much so that the money amassed for the likes of Adebayor and Toure is mostly spent.

Well I am totally wrong aren’t I? I am a fickle, impatient and short-sighted supposed ‘fan’. My season ticket has burned a hole in my pocket and bank account several times, yet I never stop saving for the next season (and I have never thrown it at anyone). I have caught a tee shirt from the cannon of Gunnersaurus, yet still screamed ‘fuck off’ at him and O2.

A few hours before the West Ham game with 8 to play, we could go top of the league today. I say we because I still want to belong, even though I suffer the false dichotomy of loving and hating the same thing.

The problem with myself and Arsenal is 2003/2004. It is a one-hit wonder that everyone still loves to listen and sing along with. It is James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause. It is the Mad Professor Tony Adams in '98, walking away with his arms aloft after making it 4-0 and all of us losing our fucking minds. It is the peak of a wonderful relationship that one never stopped to drink in and savour. Instead, I woke up with a raging hangover and couldn’t quite piece together the events/highs and what they did for me.

It is the unattainable that we (indirectly) earned, connected with, partook in and feel indebted to - yet owed something from. It is like your friends judging your new girlfriend against the old one everyone loved. You want to plainly kill them all – old, new, friends and expunge the memories. Fuck them all.

Yet football ambassador Lionel Messi is coming over in a fortnight, and like some G8 summit, we have strangely earned a place at the big table. But it isn’t enough. To quote Chris Rock, “If Bill Gates woke up with Oprah's money, he'd throw himself out of the window – and slit his own throat on the way down”. How can we be content?

I think this blog will be a trampoline of me growing up and regressing, over and over and over and over….

What the fuck?