4-0 to the Foreigners.....
Well it was a nadir for English football last night as Arsenal and their dirty foreign traits, technique, skill, quick passing and sumpuous finishing brought further shame on the English game. The King dirty foreigner Thierry Henry returned to further smear the Premiership's reputation with an awesome display and Robin van Persie demonstrated the kind of form which proves he can take up the mantle of Dennis Bergkamp (though van Persie and Bergkamp are both Dutch, oh the shame!)
The Gunners made light of an awful Charlton side, Alan Pardew stuck rigidly to his principles by fielding four English players. The opening exchanges were dominated by the immigrants (presumably all illicitly claiming benefits as well) and the result never really looked in doubt. It was just a case of how many times the filthy foreigners would cheat their way to goal. When Osei Sankofa (born and bred in the English town of errr, Senegal, Africa) hauled down van Persie in front of goal, Arsenal and their dirty foreign built stadium had their first goal via an Henry penalty and Sankofa was sent from the pitch for not knowing the succession of English monarchs since the seventeenth century. (Apparently, he's never eaten fish and chips out of newspaper wrapping either, tut tut, tut). Henry celebrated the goal by cavorting on the touchline with the injured Adebayor. A celebration indicative of the 'gayness' foreigners have bought to our league, whatever happened to a handshake and a good spit?!
The second followed shortly after, Henry played a one two with Justin Hoyte who slotted consummately past Carson. Hoyte celebrated the goal by ritualistically cleansing his boots, having just exchanged a slick one two with a Frenchman. (Side note, definition of poetic justice, Arsenal's first English scorer in sixteen months netting against an Alan Pardew side). The second half was little more than a farce as the foreigners used their powerful mind control techniques to stun Charlton and their British stalwarts into abject sh*tness. Carson resisted, putting in a display of Bulldog grit, pulling off outstanding saves from aliens Henry, Rosicky and van Persie (the shame of it all). But Dutchman Robin van Persie wrapped up a deserved scoreline with a slick double. Firstly after Saleymane 'John Smith' Diawara hauled down Henry (surely the Frenchman dived) and RVP smashed home the penalty into a solied foreign net. Fans wept openly on the terraces, mortified that the British game was being destroyed.
van Persie was to further desecrate the occasion with a sumptuous chip over Carson in injury time. He celebrated the goal by urinating openly on the St. George's cross. Wenger was to further insult the viewing public by sending on Jeremie Aliadiere, Denilson and Mathieu Flamini and cries of horror were detectable from the red section. The final whistle went and the tone was sombre as the Arsenal fans shuffled out, embarassed about the lack of patriotism demonstrated by their side. All the skill, technique and excellently crafted moves meant little as we shed salty British tears in unison. A subsequent F.A investigation has ruled that the game actually finished 0-0, as three of the goals were scored by foreigners. True, one was scored by an Englishman, but that was chalked off after it emerged that Jens Lehmann singularly failed to apologise for his country's conduct during the war.
Now that the sarcasm is out of my system, it is worth saying that, while this was an excellent performance, Charlton were a shadow of a side and one who have seemingly accepted relegation. I do not expect this as a reaction to the Sheffield United defeat, I will look for that in our next league game away at Blackburn. The return of Hnery seemed to revitalise everyone, our talisman appeared slightly rusty, but that did not prevent him having a hand in all four of our goals. His presence particularly appeared to inspire van Persie, who shook himself out of his recent malaise to turn in an awesome display of skill and poise. His second goal in particular was an indication of the kind of arrogance I like to see from him (not the kind where he lambasts his own team mates). Special mention also to Alex Hleb, or as I have dubbed him, Alex Hub. He was at the centre of every move and his tireless running ran Charlton ragged, it's a shame the home fans only saw fit to murmur discontent at him when his ambitious through balls were cut out.
In the closing minutes of the game, the terraces turned to amusing mockery. We discussed on a forum recently the Arsenal fans' propensity to take the p**s and the Red Section duly obliged. 'Pardew for Tottenham' they screamed, 'Even West Ham knew you're s**t' and, most hilariously of all, 'Arsene, Knock Him Out' they implored. Now I spoke in the sarcastic phases of this article about poetic justice, and maybe I received a little of my own. I was kindly offered a lift hime, but I do not think it was an invitation I will receive again! The initial rumblings of a burger van offering left me feeling queasy. Within minutes queasiness turned to nausea, to absolute panic as I had my driver circling the A2 for a public convenience, my churning bowels were not in the mood for patience! After a furious remonstration with the staff of a closed McDonald's (just off the A2 towards Lewisham, NEVER go there) and two gas stations with the apocalyptic legend 'OUT OF ORDER' scribed onto the doors of their facilities, it looked to be a phot finish. Fortunatley, a service station was discovered where I expunged my gut churning burger with a hearty defication followed by a light vomitis. I have lobbied the Premier League to have the burger recooked and filed a lawsuit against the Marriot Hotel as a result. (Look at that, there is some sarcasm in my system). After months of taunting the Spud faithful for their intestinal deficincies, it looks as though old mother karma got me square in the gut. Still, it was worth it. LD.
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