Something to cheer us up....a little.

If you've got a second, take a look at this quality post from Arsenal-Land.

theArsenal

Many times I was Moon Champion

For all you 9 to 5 lab rats in the 4-man army here is my new favorite thing. If you can get away with You Tube at work, enjoy all the Jose Mourinho Setanta shorts which are almost as funny as the actual Jose Mourinho Interviews. Devo has probably already seen these, but others can still enjoy. There I just wasted 2 hours of your life.

Also watch these cause Ronaldo sucks. [1] [2]

God I Hate Wigan!

For some people, watching a sport is simply not enough. Some men get drunk while they watch. Some men spend all their time looking at stats which they will later use to annoy others. Some men buy vintage jerseys or other pointlessly expensive merchandise to prove they are fans. Some men gamble to increase the rush. I have chosen to hate.

Choosing to blatantly hate another team for no reason with a blinding rage has made futbol much more exciting for me. The thrill is further increased by the fact that I have randomly chosen to despise Wigan, who in no way deserves my vile fury. What have they done to us? Nothing. But fuck them anyway.

Thats right Wigan. I hate you and your miserable lives.

There. I feel better now.

No wait. My heinous bile has risen again and, while I normally try to maintain an atmosphere of sportsmanship and respect here at Gooners in Exile, I can't hold back with fuckin Wigan. Here are some photos.

   Yes, I'm a bad person. 

Ooh to be a Guller!

My second favorite team in all the futbol world, the Brighton and Hove Albion FC Seagulls are getting some new digs. If you recall from a previous post on my fantastic blog, we met some english type peoples from Brighton, Hove Albion and Sussex (which I suppose is like the mystery of the Trinity. All the same place and yet not) who taught us to love their Seagulls. Congratulations Gullers. Hopefully this will one day lead to ascension into the Premier League where we can bitterly crush your hopes twice a year with our expensive, Franco-African war machine. Lots to look forward to.

Arsenal vs Milan as described through an atrocious metaphor.

After Adam saw Eve give birth for the first time he, no doubt, thanked God under his breath for assigning such a painful duty unto womenfolk. But the Lord of Hosts turned to Adam and said "Whoa there slick. I will create for menfolk a trial which he shall cause him to scream and cry and curse all creation but which he shall tell his friends is "beautiful". And it shall be called Futbol." And the lord smiled, knowing in his omniscience, that one day I would suffer through a Wagnerian Ring Cycle of a match cringing, howling, and crying like a wayward babe only to end up in a pile of joyous laughter, in his mercy.

So we beat Milan 2-0 at the San Siro as I predicted to Devo. It was hard to watch to say the least. As the only member of the 4-Man Army who doesn't have a day job, I opted for watching in my fortress of solitude wrapped in my various gunner paraphernalia, a blanky and my most comfortable of pants. Then the cursing began.

"Damn Eboue. Do you work in investment capital during the week and only dabble in futbol on the weekends? Are you studying nights for a BA in Art History? Maybe you know terrible secrets of Arsene Wenger which you use to blackmail your way onto a big boy team. You are a professional footballer. What do you practice if not putting a ball into a net from point blank? Please stop actively removing years from my life you bastard."

I didn't say that but you get the point. Thank god Kaka was covered, Inzaghi thought he was in a friendly and Pato forgot to say "Shazam!" prior to the match. After the first 15, we were looking strangely like last years Arsenal, the cock-teasing bastards. All passing and no shots. We should seriously give Arsenal a free goal for every 100 consecutive passes they put together.

But like the grueling and excruciating miracle of childbirth, Fabregas pushed the ball through a narrow opening and brought a slippery little bundle of joy into my world. For weeks I have applauded every shot this man has taken because I knew one of these was coming. Good to have you back Cesc. 

After the abortions, miscarriages and one sudden infant death syndrome (Birmingham) in the last couple weeks, we have our virility back and hope that this new little Arsenal can grow up to be Champion.

Yeah, its not great, but you said you wanted posts, so screw you. You happy now?

  

Last Time on Gooners in Exile...

So I've been away for a while on a vacation to the islands of Xbox 360 and haven't blogged much. Here is a recap of all the games we missed.

Things in common:

I watched them all.

I was at Nevadas for all but the Carling Massacre.

They were all too early. Even the afternoon ones on Tuesdays.

I had beer.

Devo screamed his "Mind the gap" cheer really loudly and all alone.

Jakes was sick. I guess.

Newcastle did not score in any game I saw.

Things of note:

Devo was almost killed by a Chelsea fan, a Spurs fan, and probably some other people for his antics, which he does surprisingly sober. The Spurs fan in particular sized him up for a brawl after his squad lost their win against United. But he backed down because he was a loser, drunk, and saw me behind Devo flexing my neck. Don't tell Devo.

The Man U vs Arsenal FA Cup game NEVER HAPPENED. It was rained out and Arsene let Man U through to the next round out of courtesy.

Liverpool lost t0 some high school team in their FA match.

Young Elias was nearly head butted into an emergency room by some Man U thug who got a little nasty post match. Scrappy warrior that he is, Elias either bravely or foolishly kept at him. Ironically, he had tried to order an Irish Car Bomb earlier but Jack warned him that it caused fights. 

Eduardo received a minor injury to his foot. The one that had fallen off.

Manuel Almunia admitted to living in a haunted house. I think it's just Jens in a sheet fucking with him.

We bought donut holes for all the Arsenal faithful but discovered what we should have already known: No one in New York will eat anything a stranger gives them. Ever. More delicious dough for us then.

I had a bloody mary at 7:30 in the morning. And it saved my life.

Ward and I managed to keep from consuming 2 beers before the match had begun.

Jakes got a lot more sleep than the rest of us.

Last Bit:

I got new armor to celebrate Belarus' favorite son, Alexander Hleb. But you can call him "Alexander the Great", "Hleb and Flow",  "The World Wide Hleb", "Hlebster's Unabridged English Dictionary" and Vana White (cause someone needs to buy a vowel).

Thats the wrap up for the month of February (Hlebruary to some). Hopefully, I can be more elaborate in March. See you at AC Milan.