Have you heard the lyrics to the
Ella Mae Bowen song with the same title as this blog entry?
“Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong, he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure, he's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life, larger than life”
The script is getting annoyingly familiar. Come to think
of it, even the Arsenal summer pans out like the season. The league campaign starts
with early promise, fancy footwork and memorable goals before it fizzles into
another overhyped non-affair; the team getting knocked out of one cup
competition after another. Then they gather pace, fighting valiantly in the
home stretch, only to secure last-gasp Champions League football for the forthcoming
season. Fourth place is like a trophy declares Wenger as the players rejoice like
they’ve won a trophy. Five trophyless years, they say. Five became six. Six became
seven. And seven just became eight.
What follows is just as monotonous. The summer begins
with talk of marquee additions. We have the financial power to buy, assures the
board. Wenger reiterates that if quality is found, money will be spent. Cue for
the media to begin speculating.
But just like there is no silverware at the end of a
campaign, there is no stardust when the summer ends. Players arrive but none of
them world class.
This summer however had one glaring difference. Wenger
mentioned names. Higuain, he said. Rooney. Suarez. The names rattled out one
after the other.
So I began to dream. I won’t forget the theatrics that
wrongly stopped the unbeaten run reaching the half-century mark. But if he
switched sides, maybe just maybe, he could begin to make amends. He would play
with a point to prove to his old employers, I told myself.
And then, talk of Rooney cooled. The Higuain signing
gathered pace. Practically his entire family and support staff confirmed that the
Argentine had agreed teams with Arsenal. Everyone was speaking of his impending
medical and unveiling. That is until he joined Napoli.
So the attention turned to Suarez. Him and Giroud upfront
in a 4-4-2, I thought to myself. The Arsenal attack will never want for bite,
we began to joke. Call us toothless one more time…
But May became June. And June became July. And July became
August. And August will soon become September.
But where are they? No one has arrived. No one, unless
you’re going to count Sanoga, a hitherto unknown who arrived on a free. So
where is my hero? Where is the Hercules who will win us the league? Where is
the white knight who’ll prevent eight from turning into nine?
