So you've had your head turned, but really, ask yourself Samir, what have Arsenal ever done for you?
I've often wanted to write a fan letter to Arsene Wenger offering my ‘advice’. Not knowing his home address the only option would be to send it to the Emirates. Where it would clearly get answered by the PR team with a generic automated ‘thank you for your letter’ response. So I've never bothered.
Right now though there’s another Arsenal player I’d like to get in contact with, and my letter would go something like this……
Dear Mr Nasri,
I understand you are currently facing a huge dilemma. I understand your concerns and fully empathise with your predicament. I’d like you to know my thoughts are with you during this troubled time.
I know it’s probably difficult to talk about the situation, what with your emotions being wrenched, and all these lies being written about you; questioning your loyalty, your lack of fraternité (that’s the French word for brotherhood, but you probably know that because your French. It’s in your constitution isn’t it, it’s written on the coins isn’t it…well the coins you had before the euro came along, remember those? In the old days? When tradition and history meant something).
I find it disgusting what the papers are saying. Everyday the same distorted themes are played out next to a picture of your smiling buck-toothed face. Themes of greed, pride, envy, lust, sloth….. all the seven deadly sins really.
I know you are hurt by these attacks on your character and you’ve spoken out against them in the strongest possible terms. Just last week you used your Twitter account to say “I just want tell you don't listen the newspaper and the rumours I will let you know if something happen”. These were wonderfully eloquent remarks spoken from the heart and really should have silenced the critics and big mouths for good. But once the hornet’s nest has been opened these football writers just love to kick it into your face and watch as the hornets sting you repeatedly until you come out in welts and eventually die of toxic poisoning like Macaulay Culkin in that film My Girl.
(I love Twitter by the way, Samir don’t you? It’s such a brilliant medium for getting your point across succinctly. Especially when you’re an illiterate c*nt, with no understanding of the concept of punctuation and an extremely rudimentary command of the English language.)
I know these issues are hard for you to address, but I feel that if I bring them up you’ll have the chance to engage with them, work through them and find some sort of healing in the process. It will be cathartic. So let’s talk about it. Don’t shut it out Samir. Open up. There are people here who love you.
That f*cking fat walrus Hill-Wood. That dinosaur. That tight f*cking ba*tard. F*ck him, I say hold out for more. You’re worth more than £90k a week. Double it. No triple it. You’re priceless Samir. You’re the new f*cking Zidane!!!
Now, first off, I know you love the Arsenal, Samir. I know it in my heart. You are Arsenal through and through. From the moment you arrived Arsenal blood was flowing through your veins. You’ve inherited that noble line from your ancestors. Legends such as Ted Drake, Frank McClintock, Tony Adams and Ian Wright. You are one of them. You are one of us.
But it’s difficult isn’t it, when United come calling? It’s tricky. It’s a dilemma. A problem if you will. It’s like when you’ve got a really fit bird with decent t*ts, and you move in together but then things go a bit wrong, you have a bit of a fight with her and she lets you down. Your tenancy agreement comes to an end and you think about whether to renew it and then another bird comes along with bigger t*ts and she’s just bought a massive three bedroom house and she’s clearly loaded and she makes it clear in no uncertain terms that she’s prepared to lick your b*lls and tongue your ar*ehole. All the things your current bird doesn’t like doing. And you think “why am I sticking with my current bird? There’s loads of other birds out there. Rich birds, with bigger t*ts.”
I understand Samir, it’s hard. And then your current bird gets wind of the situation doesn’t she. And she’s begging you to stay. And then everyone else finds out what’s going on and they’re asking you “what’s happening Samir? Are you staying with her or are you getting together with this new bird or what?” And you don’t want to commit to anything so you say something like “first let’s see if it’s real and if it’s concrete.”
But that makes your current bird even more concerned doesn’t it? And the longer it goes on, the more your current bird begins to hate you. And she swears that over her dead body are you going off with that new bird. That sl*g. And the relationship festers and you look for a way out. And that’s when Bayern Munich step in isn’t it Sammy? The average bird who’s been waiting in the wings all the time to cook you shepherd’s pie, run you a nice hot bath, w*nk you off and tuck you in to bed.
We’ve all been there Samir.
Then there’s the money too isn’t there? You can’t ignore the practicalities. I mean, you’ve got to eat, you’ve got to put food on the table. It’s not cheap living in London. £90k a week probably sounds like a lot of money doesn’t it Nas? To poor people. It sounds like loads. It must sound like an absolutely obscene amount of money to poor people. But it’s NOT. It’s really, really NOT. It’s a pittance. That’s what people don’t understand. It’s almost an insult that Arsene Wenger and the board are offering you so little. That f*cking fat walrus Hill-Wood. That dinosaur. That tight f*cking ba*tard. F*ck him, I say hold out for more. You’re worth more than £90k a week. Double it. No triple it. You’re priceless Samir. You’re the new f*cking Zidane!!!
Look at everything you’ve done for the club for god’s sake. And people act like you’re being petulant. There was that penalty you scored against Spurs in the Carling Cup. The Carling Cup mind. Incredible. There was that goal you scored against Fulham. Fulham!! Not easy. Not with their defence. Then there was that time you er…..ummmm….that er….goal against……and all those troph…..errrrrr……and…. well, anyway.
What I’m trying to say is thank you for all the good times. Thanks for the memories. And if you do decide to go to United for more money and “guaranteed titles” with your friend Patrice (he seems nice by the way, humble, generous) well, I won’t hold it against you. You’ve your career to think of. We don’t want to hold you back.
So think about it carefully Samir. Don’t do anything rash. Talk it through with your representative Alain Migliaccio (nice name that, he doesn’t sound like a c*nt in any way) and come to the right decision for you and for Arsenal Football Club. But mainly for you. In fact…. F*ck Arsenal Football Club. What have they ever done for you? Make the decision totally on your own terms. Be ruthless. You’re Samir Nasri for christ’s sake. The best player of the first half of last season. You’re a god. A genius.
I’ll be sad to see you go. But not that sad. In fact part of me will be happy. For you, I mean. I’ll be really, really happy. For you.
Your number one fan
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