Now I know what you’re thinking. We celebrated the 250th birthday of Guinness a couple of years back, didn’t we? Well, isn’t 252 more impressive than 250? Not just as a formation we would probably finish most matches with if we signed Joey Barton. 252 years of deliciousness is worth a celebration in my book, so I shall continue.
Now I was hoping by now I would have a signing or two to talk about. When Blackburn’s owners come out and openly talk of Christopher Samba’s desire to pull on the new extravagantly-leafed red and white shirt, you know something is afoot. The something sadly is a negotiation which has us offering what we think the player is worth, and Blackburn asking for twice as much. The fact that they are openly admitting it though takes this one beyond the realm of tedious rumour.
Also venturing close to being confirmed is our offer for Gervinho, title-winning scorer and creator of goals in Lille’s Ligue 1 triumph this season, and the sort of fella who would scare the living daylights out of the biggest, meanest defenders, which probably explains why Samba is so keen to play alongside him and not against him.
Also a matter of fact is the increasing shareholding of Alisher Usmanov. Over twenty-nine percent he has now, close to the point at which he can demand to be shown the accounts as well as share the chocolate hob-nobs stashed away for ‘guests’ of the board, and a travel blanket from which to watch next summer’s live broadcast of the Arsenal Stadium mystery on the pitch. Sadly neither Usmanov, nor his principal host, will recognise the Arsenal stadium in the movie.
It seems very strange that until Mr Kroenke is more specific about his plans for the future shareholding of the club, and particularly the small shareholders and the Fanshare holding, even those who want Usmanov nowhere near our club in the long run have reason to be silently grateful to his continued, but baffling, stance.
Oh, and I nearly forgot the most important news of the day. As announced on Twitter I have taken delivery today of the short-sleeved 1971 home shirt, with a number 7 on the back, thus bringing my collection of lovely cotton 1971 shirts of various hues to five. All that remains is the long-sleeved plain yellow number, and if any potential donors of said shirt are desirous of a plug, I am an XXL. There’s a surprise, isn’t it?
Perhaps I should celebrate Arthur Guinness a little less.
146 Responses to “To Arthur!”