West Brom at Home

REALLY! Chelski drops points a few moments before kick off and what does the good ol'Arsenal go off and do. You know what they didn't do. Couldn't even manage a draw against a side that does the good old up and down.

My usual pub forays are becoming more or less the cause of a bad heart condition. I think this whole having hope for some silverware thing is really not good for my health. I know I sound like a pessimistic person but did you watch the game this weekend.

So what else is new? Nothing.

There was an interesting article about Anelka on CNN, no less, today. It goes on about how despite his nickname, "Le Sulk", that he really is a man of principle who let's his football do the talking for him.

They went on to compare him with the likes of Cantona and Keane. You know, I personally stood behind Nico's act of telling Domenech what he thought of him. I wish more people would have done that earlier and France, just maybe, would have done a tad bit better.

Principle, such a strange concept in today's world. For example, not to belabor a point, but it's a matter of Principle that I don't even fathom the thought about going to a certain bistro to watch my football.

I know I'm not god's gift to Arsenal supporters or any kind of supporters for that sake, but there is no way I'm going to acknowledge that place as any football pub. Hell, it's not even a pub... it's a bistro.

ManCity Himself was letting me know this weekend that we should go terrorize the place but honestly, I can't do it. It's like giving in, like saying I know that you exist and that you actually have an effect on my world. Whatever, I spent too many pixels even typing about that place.

Mentioning places to watch football, the pub recently celebrated like 7 years since being open. It's kind of interesting that I've been watching football there that long as well. Myself, GrumpyGooner and a few others of our old crew started coming down to Fells as we had grown tired of the constant annoyance known as Canton.

One of my fondest memories of the old days is sitting at bar, just me and GrumpyGooner, watching Arsenal - Chelski (before they had big money). MiniMourinho was at the other end, venting and turning seven shades of blue as The Arsenal strolled up and down the pitch.

Grumpy and I were of course having a good old laugh about the game. It's always good when you are winning. At one point, MiniMourinho slaps the bar, lets out an expletive or two, pays his tab and walks out. We knew what he was thinking and what he felt. We'd been there before as well.

I don't know why that image and day sticks out in my head so much. The emptiness of the pub or the fact that we had an unspoken conversation with another supporter, whom we didn't know from Sam or Adam.

All I know is that it, the pub, has become this place where football does reside in a city which is now beginning to have a few other options.

~LeChat