Significant Monday nonsense …

Morning all.

There were some interesting results in the Premier League yesterday. Two teams who have still to face Man City were in action, and the ideal situation for would have been for them to enjoy confidence boosting wins ahead of those difficult fixtures. It’s fair to say it didn’t turn out that way.

West Ham, who play City on the final day, got beaten 5-0 by Chelsea. A result which says a lot more about the Hammers than it does anything else. They’ll more than likely have a new manager next season, European football looks a long-shot now, and they are – as the old cliche goes – on the beach now. Having spent two weeks on sun-loungers and drinking Jarrod Bowen’s favourite cocktail (Vodka + Red Bull + Monster + Ribena + more Red Bull with a twist of peach-flavoured Smirnoff Ice), it’s hard to imagine they’ll be up to it on the final day.

I’m sure David Moyes will want his final game as West Ham manager to be a win, but away from home, it’s hard to see it. Not unless there’s some kind of problem for the City players on the day. Perhaps due to a dodgy lasagne they’re all stricken with some kind of stomach bug that literally craps the energy out of them every 30 minutes until they are dehydrated shells of human beings who literally can’t run. Wait. No! Lasagne. That’s too obvious. They’ll see that coming a mile off. I know, Spanish Omelette, Pep’s favourite tortilla, but all the potatoes have blight and the eggs come from mutant Chernobyl chickens. That’ll do it. Now, I just need to disguise myself as a Bob Caterer, your average friendly industrial food supplier and oh shit I’ve said all this out loud. Forget you read that.

Look, maybe one of our midfielders can make a few phone calls to his ex-teammates, see if the lads have enough in reserve to do it for Big Dec. I do feel like Michail Antonio would be up for it, just so he could have something to talk about on his podcast the next day. Sure, he could do what the professionals do and just waffle about nothing of consequence for 90 minutes, but he’d prefer to the tell the story about he and the lads were literally sweating out Bowen’s cocktail juice for 90 minutes and somehow still managed to get Rodri sent off in the first minute before going on to win the game in the 86th minute when a Lukasz Fabianski goal kick went straight in.

Then, there is Spurs. My word. I watched them yesterday against Liverpool. What a collection of halfwits and dimwits they have over there. 4-0 down. Sure, they got a couple back but it only nearly meant something because of the worst miss I’ve ever seen … from Mo Salah of all people. I have no idea what Ange said afterwards, but he’s fast becoming Billy No-Mates among their fans if the #angeout hashtag is anything to go by.

There was even a chance for them in terms of Champions League after Brighton beat Aston Villa 1-0 with a late penalty. Could they respond? Could they take the chance after the door was left open? No, they walked right into the door. Then clattered backwards into the room, knocking all the furniture over, before tumbling out an open window and landing on a bed of nettles and scorpions. Anyway, I’ve said often that anyone hoping Spurs will get something against Man City should just accept the inevitable at this point, it’ll make it easier to deal with.

It’ll be Fulham that do it .

Right, gonna leave it there for this bank holiday Monday here in Ireland. We are recording an Arsecast Extra for you this morning, so keep an eye out for the call for questions on Twitter @gunnerblog and @arseblog on Twitter with the hashtag #arsecastextra – or if you’re an Arseblog Member on Patreon, leave your question in the #arsecast-extra-questions channel on our Discord server.

Podcast should be out around midday. Until then.

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