“The only possible moment of happiness is the present. The past gives you regrets, the future uncertainties.” – Arsene Wenger, L’Equipe
The future starts tomorrow and I have to admit that I’m excited. I probably should feel nervous: Man City are the most expensive team ever assembled; they are coached by one of the most-decorated and respected coaches in the world; he’s Arteta’s mentor; and Arsenal have a bit of a problem with injuries and a new signing that everyone is eager to see for the first time. But I don’t care about all that right now. I just feel like we have an opportunity to see something new: a chance to see where the stats have perhaps failed us in analyzing Thomas; a chance to see how Arteta maybe remodels the team (obviously not overnight!); an Arteta-Guardiola derby; and maybe a chance to see Arsenal move forward if even ever so slightly.
Wenger would surely lecture caution over the uncertainties ahead and I fully embrace that caution (manage those expectations!) but I’m also going to be excited. Because not only is it possible to be two opposite things at the same time but uncertainty is genuinely exciting for some of us! Discovery is exciting! And even failure or mediocrity can be a moment of discovery, if you let it.
I can’t give you much of a preview for tomorrow’s match. I don’t know what lineups we will use or what lineups Pep will have. And I feel like we all know Man City will dominate possession, shots, and press Arsenal high to win the ball back. Arsenal will try to stay organized, be hard to beat and hit them on the counter.
I mentioned Lacazette’s big game record yesterday. I know it surprises a lot of people and that’s fine but I would be genuinely excited to see the narrative move a bit around him. He’s not perfect but then none of us are but he’s off to an incredible start to the season and if we do want to make top four then we need all our forwards scoring and assisting.
Saka coming to the fore, Bellerin busting out of his cocoon, Pepe’s redemption, Willian getting 10 goals contributions this season (just to shut up the haters!), Arteta playing 4 at the back, I don’t know if any of these things will come true or not but it could be fun watching!
One odd thing I noticed looking at the stats today is that Arsenal have already scored six of our nine big chances this season and that all nine have been on target. Creating nine big chances in 4 games (obviously this is a Lilliputian sample size) is pretty good and if we can keep it up that would put us on pace to match Wenger’s 2015/16 Arsenal side. Interestingly, on the other end of the pitch, Arsenal have conceded 7 big chances (which is bad!) but also interestingly, they all came against West Ham and Liverpool. Matches in which Arsenal lacked control.
Of course I worry this attacking goodness will all dry up or that the defensive problems will continue but like everything else I’m eager to see how this unfolds over the season.
But switching gears abruptly (like Pepe speeding by a quiescent defender) I got a chance to listen to the Ornstein interview with Arsene Wenger and noticed something:
On loneliness.
“When you make a decision, at the end of the day, you take advice from everybody but at some stage you make the decision. So it is accepting the uncertainty of the decision you make that creates that tension. What creates stress is uncertainty and pressure from outside. So that is a moment when you feel lonely. But when you build a team on Friday night, you know about 8 players but 2 or 3 you don’t really know and it’s when how you feel. So at some stage you have to make a decision and only you can do that. You have that feeling of loneliness sometimes.”
The saddest theme I get from Wenger’s collective body of quotes is one of isolation and loneliness. He touches on it above with the loneliness of deciding lineups but he’s also spoken about how his house has no furniture, just a TV and football matches and that he watches four to five matches a day. That’s 7.5 hours a day just watching football.
We know from his own words that Wenger considers himself an addict. And like many addicts, he even admits that his addiction has hurt the people around him. His wife left him and I feel like perhaps he also maybe a little regrets the time he didn’t spend with his daughter;
“I regret having sacrificed everything I did because I realise I’ve hurt a lot of people around me. I’ve neglected a lot of people. I’ve neglected my family, I’ve neglected many close ones. Deep down though, the obsessed man is selfish in his pursuit of what he loves. He ignores a lot of other things. But it’s a bone to chase at the same time.”
And during this book tour he’s let several interviewers in on what I see is kind of a sad life. When asked by Patrick Marber in the Guardian what plays or musicals have meant the most to him his response is somewhat frightening:
“I must confess that I didn’t go anywhere for theatre. I’m not a music specialist at all. I like music, but my life was completely dedicated to sport. I am quite ashamed to say that. But after 20 years, when my friends came to my home and said, “What do I have to visit in London?”, I always told them: “I know only the way to the training centre and to Arsenal, to the Emirates.” I don’t know what is in London. It’s a box I never opened. In the evenings, I watch football.“
He lived in London for 20+ years, still lives in London, his daughter goes to Cambridge university, and yet he hasn’t really explored London. I find that almost unbearably painful to imagine. 20+ years of watching football videos, 7+ hours a day. Never opening the box of incredible experiences right in front of you.
I’ve seen him say these quotes a lot. When asked to describe his daily commute, it’s typically wonderfully Arsene but takes on a different meaning when you think about his actual lived experience: “They know me very well. The trees laugh when I drive through in the morning.”
Essex to Colney, Colney to Essex, TV, videos, football, back to Colney, bus to an airport, bus to a hotel, bus to a stadium, bus back to the hotel, do it all over again. And before you think I’m just imagining this as his life, I’m not. It’s how he described it to David Ornstein, his monastic lifestyle.
Did you ever get drunk, did you ever cut loose, you have some of the most incredible football achievements ever, did you ever celebrate ?
“I was drunk one time in my life when I was 18. Since, I had sometimes.. One.. on the board, you know. But really drunk? No.
But I loved after the game to be with my staff and have a quiet internal contentment and share the moment of happiness. Because you suffer together and celebrate together. You have always to prepare for the next game, you know and so you think if I do that.. tomorrow I have to manage the guys who didn’t play, I have to be focused and concentrated.”
(Orn: that’s that monastic life you talk about.)
“It is a monastic life. It’s a boring life. And you know for players, people only see the glamour turning up but it’s basically a boring life. You go and practice, go home, sleep, come next day, practice, play, go back. And when you play, yes, you play all over the world yes, you visit every place in the world but you visit the airport, the hotel, and the stadium, bye bye. All the rest you don’t see.”
What’s terrifying is that in the depths of my drinking, this is what my life was like. Not my entire life, but definitely the parts when I was actively drinking. I could have been sat in an empty house with a bottle of bourbon and a video game or something and just pour myself drink after drink until I passed out. Then wake up and do my entire routine again: walk the dog, eat, work, come home, drink. This obsession, this selfishness, this oblivion to the wonderful opportunities right in front of us cuts both ways.
And I still have this odd fascination with routines. I believe that if I just ate the same food every day my health would be better: 5 pieces of fruit, 2/3 c oatmeal, refried beans with fresh veggies on top and hot sauce. That if I figured out how to make everything into a scheduled task then the house would be cleaner, the sourdough starter would be healthier, the books would all be read, birds all categorized, blogs perfectly written and so on.
But I don’t. I thrive on chaos and being able to do what I want, when I want to. And yet I say that and then again, I am also very much like Wenger, still blogging here after over 12 years. Or baking my way through every sandwich on some 40 sandwich list.
Maybe we are all both. Maybe Wenger’s release from so much obscene asceticism, work, and self-pressure was to then just let his players “express themselves” on the pitch. To let them be in the moment and have just 90 minutes of play.
Source for L’Equipe translation:https://news.arseblog.com/2015/11/arsene-wengers-full-interview-with-lequipe-sport-and-style/
Source for Ornstein Podcast: https://theathletic.com/podcast/144-the-ornstein-and-chapman-podcast/?episode=131
I think you’re right and I think there is an obsessive tendency in all of us humans to perfect a routine and that it has the potential to be destructive no matter the vice.
Also, this is, in my humble opinion, your most breveloquent post ever.
Tim, your writing, your writing, man, it’s so awesome. The way you process your thoughts and so eloquently put them into writing, it’s something I aspire to.
Long time reader, first time commenter, yadayadayada.
Not for the first time I’ve felt that I wanted to leave a reply, either to discuss the football with the other commenters or talk about sandwich, stuff like that. However, for some reason, I felt I really wanted to say one thing this one time.
Thanks for that. Really. That was a lovely read, both Wenger’s answer and your point of view and your thoughts about them. I think I kinda needed that, not sure why myself.
Anyway, I’m not sure if I’m gonna start commenting around here from now on. We’ll see.
“… but it’s basically a boring life. You go and practice, go home, sleep, come next day, practice, play, go back. And when you play, yes, you play all over the world yes, you visit every place in the world but you visit the airport, the hotel, and the stadium, bye bye. All the rest you don’t see.”
+++
Playing Ultimate for years (and years)– this was the routine. Well, except parties on Saturday nights of a typical weekend tournament were of the hearty variety.
After about five years of traveling the country (US) to play– (many times we’d do roadtrips 3 or 4 in a car) maybe 8 or 10 times a year we’d fly. I was planning out a trip to St Louis. And my better half tells me: ‘Ya’ know, we go to your tournaments. Fun to travel to all these cities. We fly in, go to the hotel. You play all the next day, I sit on the sidelines and watch. We have dinner with everyone and either go to the party– or back to the hotel if it’s an important tournament. Next day, you play till the team wins or loses– rush to the airport and fly home. We never get to see anything else.”
“So why don’t you fly to St Louis? I’ll stay here and we’ll save half the money” says she.
Which is how it went for the next 12 years. We’d practice Tuesday and Thursday year round. Saturday and Sunday too unless we played in a tourney on a weekend.
It’s what you do when you love what you do. It was satisfying that our teams were always competitive. But we never made a penny. Footed the bill for all of it.
AW was blessed. To be able to do exactly what he wanted to do. And? Could still manage a club if he chose. What I’ve gleaned from having done much the same? Is to have no regrets for having made choices– that made the best of talents few had– for as long as I could. Hung up my cleats and walked away from a game I’d played for 22 years. No association with the game or the social scene since. Like every addict’s pipe dream. Cold turkey.
A career in design paralleled athletics. Might have been interesting had I focused as much on those opportunities as I did a game. Though if I had? That– I’d probably be regretting now.
Arsene has been able to live life his way. Isn’t that what we all aspire to do?
Oh man, I can totally relate to Ultimate taking over your life. I played for a few years too and the hardest part was really leaving a sport that you’ve dedicated yourself to it. Each time I tried to leave, there was always an excuse to return for just 1 more training session or 1 more drinking night. I’ve managed to stop Ultimate for a while now but I still have occasional dreams of catching the disc still. I guess it’s hard to kick off an addiction.
This is a pleasant tonic to a car crash interview on Irish TV’s the Late Late Show this evening, wherein talent vacuum presenter Ryan Tubridy embarrassed the nation by pretty much exclusively asking him questions about Manchester United and Henry’s handball against Ireland in ’09 (in the opening monologue he literally introduced the interview by waffling about it).
Whoscored have us winning 2-1, which is disconcerting, as every big six victory we’ve had in the past few years they’ve had us losing.
God, I hope he didn’t live in Essex, I really do. I always thought it was in Totteridge just south of Barnet (in Herts), but he may have moved.
Not investigating London was a crime, especially as he had people like Dein, Vieira, Henry, Pires & Freddie to show him around. He still has plenty of time though when this accursed virus is dead & gone.
Yes Master your right he did/does? live in totteridge , Whetstone, Finchley. After every home game he would visit his favourite restaurant (can’t remember the name but on the corner of rd) with DD. They had the same table. Loads of people (myself included) when dining would come over shake his hand but never trouble or engage him. He was always polite, charming and would never refuse a question or selfie when asked but as i say diners respected his privacy. A true gentleman in every sense
A famous musician once said in public and to me as well, that he just doesn’t write a song to get a hit, he writes a song to get some sleep. It just has to come out.
Talented people tend to be somewhat obsessive – a good thing as far as 7am Kickoff in concerned. I hope to be reading new posts 12 years from now as well.
Look, Paolo Maldini’s old team mate has Everton playing the best football I’ve ever seen from them. Were they lucky to nick a point today? Maybe. But if we play with that much aggressiveness and confidence, Man City will have their hands full. And they’ve got injuries as well.
It’s not absurd to expect a result for us from this match. As always, COYG.
Looking forward to Tim’s take. I thought we did OK. Ederson won them two points though, saving from two one-on-ones. (MOTD didn’t even show Auba’s onside shot). A couple of things bothered me though.
It bothered me that Walker was able to cover Cancelo and neutralise Auba basically because he had nothing to worry about behind him, no threat through the middle from Willian. Arteta should have seen that – maybe he did, which is why Nketiah came on.
It bothered me that our full-backs, an area where I think we have real quality, looked uncertain and overwhelmed.
I was also concerned that we basically showed nothing for the last 20 minutes.
Arteta’s post-match interview also bothered me a little. He was saying we did really well to go to Man City and show belief and self-confidence and play that way and lose 1-0. Maybe he’s right, but if so that means he thinks we are a lot worse than I do.
All of this plus all of the available statistic analysis adds up to a general impression that Arteta is being extremely risk averse, very rigid and imposing a style of play that reduces our shot output and does not allow the team to breathe, expand and contract with the ebb and flow of the game.
Not necessarily a problem in the short term but I hope things loosen up and get more dynamic over time.
Hopefully things will loose up once the Partey starts.
*loosen
Yes Master your right he did/does? live in totteridge , Whetstone, Finchley. After every home game he would visit his favourite restaurant (can’t remember the name but on the corner of rd) with DD. They had the same table. Loads of people (myself included) when dining would come over shake his hand but never trouble or engage him. He was always polite, charming and would never refuse a question or selfie when asked but as i say diners respected his privacy. A true gentleman in every sense
100% spot on Greg. Your post covered it perfectly. Mikel take the bloody handbrake off
Trust the process….we will rise to the occasion. The ingredients are coming together.
Just want to add something here. I myself am an ex smoker. A pack a day for 5-7 years. Clean for about 7 months. One line that stuck to me while trying to quit is that addiction is when you want to do less of something but you always do more. If there is something you obsess over and despite everything you want to do more it’s not addiction. Essentially, an addict misses his addiction when he is not doing it and hates himself when he does it. I doubt Wenger hated himself managing football. He lived a dedicated(monastic) life but I would like to believe that it was fruitful and content.