Gooners and Scousers give us etiquette lesson

ANOTHER week, another lesson in class from the Gooners and the Scousers. We have so much to learn when it comes to taunting, belittling and goading opposition players and managers.

Presumably it’s something Arsenal practice in training, with Henry leading the master class.

A word to the wise for “Cesc” Fabregas — when you have managed to win four FA Cup medals, two PFA Player of the Year awards, two European Cup Winners Cups, a League Cup, two Premiership titles, have managed your country and been awarded an OBE for your services to football, then and only then, should you even think of trying to call Hughes’s football pedigree into question.

As for Liverpool, I must own up that there has been many a time when I have wanted to take a golf club to Riise’s legs, usually, just as I see him hit a 30-yard thunderbolt past us; but even I think that belabouring the Norwegian with a five iron just because he wouldn’t sing Wild Thing (or whatever) is a tad harsh. Keep up the good work lads though.

But let’s move on to boring old Chelsea — in our last six games, we have scored 18 goals and conceded none. Petr Cech, the best goalkeeper in the world, bar none, has been back for 7 games. We will forgive him Anfield; it was his first back and he could have done nothing about either goal. If Cech had been fit we would not find ourselves six points behind United.

Norwich were seen off pretty easily, although the scoreline did flatter. Wright-Phillips and Shevchenko scoring is always gladdening, Drogba scoring is now a welcome and predictable sight and Essien deserved his goal for the way he has been playing this season. I predict he won’t get any Soccer writers or PFA Player of the Year award as he is neither English, nor a red wearing, tippy tappy skippy type of player — but he deserves recognition more than the obvious candidates. Plays where he is asked, like a natural; gives 100% and is a modest professional.

I see the usual suspects are whingeing about replays in an already congested timetable.

Poor old big clubs, still in so many competitions and earning all that money, how awful. Spiteful small clubs — first they have the audacity to stop you winning, and then, you have to replay at some nasty stadium which doesn’t even have Molton Brown shampoo in the showers!

Well here’s an idea, play your proper side and win the original tie. Easy isn’t it?

Someone else who is back where he should be is Roman, returning from Israel just in time to see €75m wiped off his losses, and to agree a ticket price freeze for next season and a reduction in Champions League prices.

I’m winging my way to Porto today to witness what I sincerely hope will be a much better performance than the last time we faced Mourinho’s old team in the Estadio do Dragão. Porto isn’t the most exciting town once you’ve toured the port and sherry factory, so we have given the overnighter a swerve and saved a few pennies by doing the day trip.

It’s a hectic week for me.

My sister has been inconsiderate enough to arrange her wedding day during the football season.

Only a Spurs fan could do that! José has once again saved the day by ensuring we reached the Carling Cup Final — hence the Manchester City away game is moved and I don’t miss a match. Happy days.

However, I imagine I will not be in the best of health when our mini-bus turns up at 7am on Sunday for what I hope will be the last ever Cardiff trip.

Despite all that, I’m rather looking forward to the Carling Cup Final. As a Chelsea fan who had to endure decades of barren years, it will take some time before I will take any possibility of silverware lightly, It would be nice (although unlikely I fear) if Arsenal didn’t score.

I always find watching Wenger celebrating a goal slightly uncomfortable — a bit like watching your dad trying to dance to 2Pac.

One thing I will be thankful for is that I won’t be subjected to the skin-crawling deification of the Arsenal youngsters by the tv pundits. The myth of their youth academy is reaching epic proportions.

They’ve not developed these youngsters, they’ve bought them (often for a pittance) from abroad.

Several of their Carling Cup team aren’t very young anyway. Aliadiere is 23; Baptista is 25; Almunia is 29. These are not spring chickens.

It’s the beginning of a pretty crucial four weeks for us now — fighting on four fronts with limited numbers. And a home draw against Tottenham in the quarter-final of the FA Cup.

What could be better?

* Contact Trish on [e-mail]