Throughout the summer we heard calls for a marquee signing, and a suggestion that Arsenal under Wenger could not only not compete at the high end of the transfer market but actively didn’t want to do so. Some fans suggested that was because Wenger and the Board were trying to fleece the loyal supporters in order to feather their own nests, whilst others maintained that the reason was a dithering out of touchness with the realities of modern life. It seemed fashionable at the time for the media to portray The Arsenal as a once great club whose stubbornness and old-world values would confine them to forever play second fiddle to the truly great and lavishly funded new-era mega clubs. The views of some fans were even less charitable.
And
then came Özil, and for a while everything changed. He was the greatest
midfielder in the world, Madrid were mad to sell him, The Arsenal were
back, he was the signing of the summer. All these sentiments and more
were expressed with varying degrees of sincerity and politeness on TV
and in the papers while the Twitter world was awash with pride and envy.
All through the Autumn a newly confident Arsenal eased the ball about
the park, with Özil’s orchestrations seeing an inexorable rise to the
top of the table and Champions League qualification. The memories glow
and linger: the ball plucked from mid-air and delivered on a plate to
Giroud; the first time drive and assist to destroy Napoli; the brace
against Norwich; the telepathic combination with Ramsey before passing
the ball into the Tigers net, and always, always vision and grace, even
when juggling gum. The Arsenal had found their man, and although clearly
not genuine title contenders, they were at least able to provide a
different narrative for the press and compelling evidence that despite
the inexplicable stumblings of the heavyweights, the Premier League was
the best in the world.
And
all of this was fine for the vested interests (so ably served by their
punditry puppets) in October and November, because although top of the
league, Arsenal could not win the title. They needed a striker (despite
Giroud’s top form), their defence was still vulnerable (but it took an
example several seasons’ old to illustrate this), there was no back up
to Giroud (but step forward Lord Bendtner), Wenger doesn’t do tactics
(oh really?), December’s run of fixtures would see them slip (almost but
not quite, and if it hadn’t been for schedules and prehistoric
refereeing, then not at all). So here we are, on January the whatever,
and still The Arsenal are one point clear at top, having played
everybody at least once, just like all the other clubs. And does this
make everyone happy? Are the League Bosses pleased? Are the TV companies
delighted? Are all the Arsenal fans ecstatic? Strangely – indeed
bizarrely – it would seem very much not.
So
now cue the most insidious whispers of all: Özil is not the player
everyone thought he was. He is lazy. He goes missing. He was only good
because of Ronaldo. He doesn’t tackle back. He isn’t really cut out for
the hardest league in the world. He is another Arsenal pretty boy. He
wasn’t worth the money, because he isn’t a match winner. And do you know
what, people who have played and watched football all their lives (and
some who have played at the very highest level) choose to believe these
vile slanders. And because they pass on these ideas, so to do all the
young Twitter warriors, and, no doubt in time, so will some of the
supporters, who will inexplicably start to doubt and to jeer and
possibly to create an atmosphere where one of the greatest players of
all time loses confidence and decides that playing for The Arsenal isn’t
such the great idea it seemed back in October. And that will be job
done for those who can’t bear the thought that success might be honestly
earned and planned for, for those whose snouts are firmly in the
oil-fueled slush bucket, for those who for their own strange reasons
want to see a change of managerial regime at The Emirates. It is called
misinformation and as Orwell predicted, whole sections of the media are
devoted to saying the opposite of the truth. I leave you to guess at the
reasons for this.
But
these lies can and must be resisted. Believe me, Özil is one of the
all-time greats. He does something that very few can do, for he takes
the opposition out of the game. Good players look as if they are
everywhere and create the impression that their side are playing 12
against 11. Great players make it seem like 11 against 10, for their
vision reduces defences as surely as if a red card has been issued. Özil
is a space maker and a game changer. He makes good team mates into
great ones: great ones into legends. He is unique, and he is ours.
Bother to look at him properly and you will see what Arsene saw, but
what Jose only glimpsed. Savour every moment, shout his name out loud,
defend him against the doubters and above all be proud. He is very, very
special, and if you can’t see that you either don’t know your football
or you have sold your soul.
And
perhaps most importantly, my daughter Katy, all 10 years old of her,
wanted an Özil away kit for Christmas more than anything – and I
seriously wouldn’t recommend getting on the wrong side of her….
Tim can be found on Twitter @foreverheady .
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