In the barren desert that were the years, he was the shining ray of light. In the face of despair, he clutched a broken leg and, the final act now it seems, scored a goal agiasnt his first, and next employers.
Walking through the streets of London’s West End, I picked up the Evening Standard in nonchalance, hoping to see more of Clegg than Cesc. But the inevitable, as the ES article suggests, is on its way. It is here. And which Arsena fan could not say so? For so long, for so many years, the frustrations of Real Madrid and Barcelona keep on cat-calling, their seductive whistles never ceasing. But, when English fooball has dominated in Europe (including Fulham and other exploits), why does the monstrous sea continue?
Fabregas will have the chance of joining that elusive club of ‘I’ve been to Spain, worn the t-shirt, ate the paella’. But, unlike Ronaldo, Beckham and Henry, this last voyage is more spiritual, less economic. Fabregas might even earn less at Barca, though the weakness of the pound and the myserious ways that is Spanish football may heighten his bank balance.
But this story was never about money. It was always about a ‘return’. In my eyes, this could have been delayed, and even more so, perhaps even stopped. Wenger’s reluctance in spending could be the very straw that dismantles this castle. A castle built on the foundations of the invincbles, a team of prowess and punch. Then a total new shape, a total football side that weakened. Last season was showed there was strength in abundance, just not lasting the whole stretch.
Could this even be a new dawn? Will total football reduce, and substance and strength return? Perhaps this could be the catalyst for an improved Arsenal, however slightly perverse that may sound. We simply do not know.
But, before I buy my Spanish national sirt with ‘Fabregas’ on the back, I’d like to put keyboard to screen, pn to paper. 7 years of service, some of the best football ever seen on these shores. Fabregas may not be a great in some eyes, but for me he is more than a player. He was a gerat man, grown from a boy playing agiasnt Rotherham and Wolves in the League Cup. Fabregas was the new age, the cosmopolitan who moved to a different country, learned its language and culture, and embodied it.
He leaves with our grace and blessing. We’d love you to stay Cesc. But players come and go. Even in this teary eyed moment, I cant find any regrets.
