By Daniel Finton (Deputy Editor)
What up, Pimps?
Welcome one and welcome all to an already somber edition of the Finton’s Frolic right opinion zone. We opened the season to newly promoted Brentford and were cast aside like the trash, rubbish, garbage and shit we all fully know we are.
The atmosphere on the night at Brentford’s stadium was tremendous and it was so nice to see fans back in a stadium. Even though it felt like a knife going through my chest when they scored the first and second times, I can’t help but admit that hearing the real noise was actually quite nice. This is what the sport is all about.
Unfortunately that’s where the positives ended. Some have been saying Albert Sambi Lokonga, in particular had a fine match in a desperate attempt to find a silver lining, but I found his solid performance — along with the many youngsters he played alongside — very concerning. I’m starting to get worried that we’re going to ruin the only good thing we have; our youngsters.
Yesterday’s circumstances were a little different given the issues with Pierre Emerick Aubameyang and Alexandre Lacazette, I’ll admit it. Even with that being said, however, it’s very clear we’re overly reliant on our young stars. And that is incredibly unfair to them.
Think of it this way. You buy a nice French baguette by the name of Emile Smith Rowe. You have it in the oven (a match, or matches) for some time and see that it has this undeniable potential to be better than its raw self.
In normal circumstances, you take the bread out, let it cool down, and enjoy it. We’re in a position now though, where our baguettes are being burnt. Bukayo Saka was last season, and now with Smith Rowe donning the legendary number 10 shirt, he looks set to be next slice of bread to be singed.
Last night, the team was packed full of youngsters, like one of those really busy music festivals most people my age like to go to that I’m sure smell like stale booze and body odor. It was exciting, initially, but then you think of the wider picture and see the ever-apparent rawness and also realize, “this sort of stinks.”
The impotency that we hoped the likes of Gabriel Martinelli and Flo Balogun would change stayed the exact same. The midfield clearly lacked a creator despite Granit Xhaka and Lokonga’s valiant efforts. And Kieran Tierney seemed to be tasked with being the main creative outlet — its worth noting, by the way, he’s somewhat of a youngster too and a fucking left back, obviously — what are we doing, Pimps?
In the recent Extra Cannon Podcast, I predicted we’d finish ninth. That was admittedly quite an exaggerated opinion that I’ll freely admit came through emotion given the fact that we were talking about transfers. Or so I thought, previously, that it was overkill. Maybe it wasn’t.
Arsenal is blessed, in one way. We have a great crop of youngsters. But without experience around them, how are they meant to grow? Sure, game time will provide them a callous that nothing else would, but as I said earlier, it could burn them horribly as well.
The heads of this promising farm need to pull their thumbs out and get some chickens that can already lay an egg. Otherwise our cute chicks will die a fiery death of overuse. We can’t expect our little babies to haul this sinking titanic.
Toodloo...!
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