Dear Arsene Wenger: What I want for Christmas

In the five years since Arsenal last lifted a trophy of any sort, I, and many other Gooners have noticed some glaring deficiencies in our beloved club. Sure, the Gunners have treated us to plenty of the aesthetically pleasing, free-flowing football we've come to expect from Arsenal under manager Arsene Wenger's watch, but at the end of the day, it's always some other club hoisting the hardware.

The reasons for Arsenal's recent failure to get over the hump are obvious to even the casual observer, but not, it would appear, to The Professor Mr. Wenger. So here it is, Arsene, my personal "Dear Santa" letter to you. Please just hear me out.

Wish #1 - The Enforcer


It is altogether fitting and in no way a coincidence that Arsenal's last trophy, the 2005 FA Cup win over Manchester United, came thanks to a penalty kick from Patrick Vieira in what would turn out to be his swan song with the club. In addition to providing a capable finishing touch, the huge, rangy Frenchman provided something that Arsenal has sorely missed ever since---someone willing to "stick a boot in". The testy Vieira was an intimidating presence who made even the league's ugliest goons look over their shoulder.

This is England, Arsene, not La Liga. When you travel to play scumbag clubs like Birmingham City and Blackburn, you better have something more than a Denilson in your pocket. You need a real enforcer.
At times Abou Diaby looks the part as he possesses the combination of size, skill and general nastiness required for the job, but his durability is always a question mark. Alexandre Song is also becoming quite a bulldog in his own right, but appears to lack the mean streak the team really needs. I know midfield destroyers like Michael Essien don't grow on trees, but we can and must do better in this department.

Wish #2 - Quality Depth

This deficiency manifests itself in many aspects, all of which directly impact the Gunners' ability (or inability) to win trophies. It is not a stretch to say that Arsenal's last three campaigns were significantly hindered if not derailed outright by injuries. This season has been no exception.

It is impossible to predict and totally prepare for injuries, but it is probably a good idea to have another serviceable striker or two on hand when your first choice finisher is Robin van Persie, who I'm beginning to think is made of glass. He has never played anything close to full season and it is pure hubris to think he ever will. Ditto for Tomas Rosicky who missed two years with groin/quadriceps problems.

And not only has Arsenal's lack of quality depth left them unable to compete for the Premiership with the big boys like Manchester United and Chelsea on equal terms, but it has also killed them in other competitions like the FA and Carling Cups. If you are going to, as Wenger so often does, rely on reserves to get you through to the later rounds of the competitions, it would help to actually have some experience on the bench. You won't often see Chelsea and Liverpool throwing 17 and 18 year olds out there in cup matches, but Arsenal regularly trots out the likes of Fran Merida, Jack Wilshire, Sanchez Watt, Kieran Gibbs, Carlos Vela, etc. Good luck with that. I understand you want to develop young talent, but that's what reserve team matches are for. Not the FA Cup fourth round at Stoke City.

Wish #3
Goalkeeping. Goalkeeping. Goalkeeping.

My God, am I the only person who sees this? I know Jens Lehmann was a real pain in the ass and provided the occasional massive screw-up (2006 Champions League Final, anyone?) but at least you knew he was there. At times, I think a statue of Manuel Almunia could stop as many goals as the actual Manuel Almunia.

I say this without reservation, Arsenal will never win anything with Count Flapula in goal. He is constantly late getting off his line, takes terrible angles, is unassertive in his clearances and is completely lost on set pieces. Granted his smallish backline doesn't always do him justice in this regard, but a team with championship aspirations must have at least a competent keeper. Arsenal do not, and Almunia's backup Lukasz Fabianski is even worse, as his laughably bad performance in the Champions League at Porto proved beyond any doubt. Get a keeper. Now.

So that's it, Arsene. That's all I want for Christmas. And if you can see to it that we get them, I think there's a good a chance there will a present under your tree too.

Star Trek 2009: The Fast and the Tiberius - Tokyo Drift

Every generation grows up hearing about how "such and such ain't what it used to be" or "they don't make 'em like that anymore." Never has this been more true than with the latest pan scrapings from the venerable Star Trek franchise, "Star Trek 2009". This guaranteed stink-bomb was directed by J.J. Abrams, the jerk who gave us such classics as Armageddon, Mission Impossible III, and the unforgettable TV series Felicity.



When I first heard about plans to take the Star Trek brand back to the future and chronicle the early careers of the original Enterprise crew, I was pleased. As a fan who grew up with James T. Kirk, Spock, Bones, Sulu, Scotty, and Uhura I was intrigued by the potential story lines. Young Ensign Kirk reprogramming the famous Kobayashi Maru training scenario, maybe? How about the origins of how Spock came to leave planet Vulcan and join Starfleet? Maybe they could get right what George Lucas got SO wrong in Phantom Menace.

Then I saw this trailer:



It boasts: THIS. IS. NOT. YOUR. FATHERS. STAR. TREK.

Yeah, it's the community college gearhead driving the jacked Toyota Camry with spoliers, skirts and tinted windows' Star Trek.

Is that Paul Walker as James Tiberius Kirk? I can't tell. And I still can't confirm if that was or wasn't Vin Diesel as Mr. Spock. I was waiting for Ludacris to show up sideshowing in a tricked-out, purple and gold Acura. What a heap of sh** this is going to be.

The real lead actor in this clunker is the idiot MTV Beach House/Gone in Sixty Seconds generation they designed this turd of a flick for. I am a fan of the original series but am by no means a "Trekkie". But I am certainly qualified to tell you how these uber-fans are going to react to this film. They are going to HATE it. Sadly, this is a movie that would have been better left unmade. But don't take my word for it. You can judge for yourself in theaters May 8th. But you'll live longer and be more prosperous if you don't.

Obama vs. McCain II

The second presidential debate has come and gone, and though neither candidate landed any haymakers we do know one thing: John McCain is OLD. Not "Lethal Weapon" Danny Glover "I'm too old for this sh**" old. More like William Hickey as Don Corrado Prizzi in "Prizzi's Honor" crypt-keeper old.



As I watched the two men on stage I couldn't shake the image of 60 something year old Sylvester Stallone crabwalking around the ring with Antonio Tarver in the unfortunate sixth installment of the Rocky saga "Rocky Balboa" (see publicity shot above). Maybe it was McCain's animatronic arm movements, or maybe it was his lack of any indentifiable neck (my wife swears he had a neck in 2000), but this guy looks worse than old. He looks like he could check out at any moment.

And he doesn't do himself any favors when he actually speaks. His attempts at humor are so utterly unfunny that it is a stretch to call them attempts, and impossible to call them humorous. Hairplugs? Are you serious?

Through two debates his favorite line is his description of how when looking into Vladimir Putin's eyes he "saw three letters, K-G-B". Woooo! Zinger! And I'll bet Putin looked back at McCain's grizzled, washed-out mug and saw four letters, "A-A-R-P". Then he probably laughed and thought to himself "I could knock over this so-called war hero with a wet rag, smother him with it, and feed him to my dog Nikita".

And he could do it, too.



America simply can't afford to elect John McCain. He'll get his ass kicked!

Paul Newman 1925 - 2008

Thanks Paul. Thank you for giving us Fast Eddie Felson, Butch Cassidy, and the unforgettable Reggie Dunlop.



Thank you for over 50 years of great movies. And the pasta sauce. You will be missed.

Happy Birthday Leonard Bernstein

This week the San Francisco Symphony and its' FABULOUS conductor Michael Tilson Thomas, will open New York's Carnegie Hall with a fantastic tribute to MTT's mentor, American music legend Leonard Bernstein. Lenny, who passed away in 1990, would have been 90 this year. Cat and I had a chance to see the performance last weekend before MTT and the SFS took it out on the road. They are going to knock it out of the park in New York. This show has everything, from the orchestra snapping along during the Jets versus Sharks prologue from Westside Story, to MTT joining in and singing(!) during the terrific finale, "Ya Got Me" from On The Town. Too fun.



Yes, I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for musicals and showtunes. Go ahead, laugh. I'll be doing the MAMBO!

Jeff Getting That "College Experience" He Missed Out On

As a graduate of one of America's great commuter colleges, San Francisco State U., I received the best education $1200 a semester could buy. I got a well-rounded, liberal arts degree and a spiffy diploma that sits on a shelf in my office next to my softball trophies.

One thing I didn't get though, was the College Experience. No Animal House fraternity parties, no sneaking kegs past the nosy RA on the fourth floor of the freshman dorm, no sabotaging of the toilets on the girls' floor----you know, all those things that you look back on fondly years after leaving school. Me, all I have are books on Gamal Abdel Nassar and the Suez Canal Crisis and that little diploma.

That all changed this past Sunday. I was bouncing around Ninth and Irving with my brother Jon AKA Giovanni looking for a place to catch the 49ers game. We settled on an Irish pub (shocker!) called The Blackthorn. It had several TVs and the Sunday Ticket package, and they take credit cards (woohoo!).

We settled in for some ciders and beers and had a nice time with a hearty group of locals to watch the games. And by "locals" I mean people from Philly, New York, Pittsburgh and Indianapolis who live here in San Francisco and gather at sports bars to watch their hometown teams. They even had a little grill out back and fired up some hot dogs for everybody.

As the afternoon games wound down, Giovanni and I were hanging out back having hot dogs, beers and cigs, when our little afternoon idyll was completely shattered. First a huge group of singing (badly) Irish soccer hooligans came in to celebrate a big victory. A woman with a thick brogue slurred to us that County Kilsomebodyorrather beat Kerry. Gio and I hunkered down as the songs got louder and less intelligible. I could make out a few place names and a few "IRAs" but not much else.



Then, things got real hairy. I looked inside as literally dozens of college age kids in matching "team" T-Shirts moved the pool table aside and started setting up long tables with tons of plastic beer cups and huge pitchers of domestic beer. "What is this?" I asked my brother. "Flip Cup" he replied. I guess Gio really DID get a better education at UC Santa Cruz, because I didn't know the first thing about this game.

And really, I still don't. It involves a lot of yelling, flipping plastic cups, more yelling, and chugging huge amounts of beer. Several of the combatants stumbled outside for a "break" taking slugs of a grandaddy jug of Wild Turkey. Soon people were stumbling all over the place, falling onto our table, into our laps, etc. When one celebrant dropped and shattered an entire pitcher of beer we decided we'd had enough of college and matriculated to Clement St. to catch the Packers-Cowboys game.

Global Warming Forecast

After yet another scorcher of a day here in the Bay Area, I decided to do a little research on this global warming thing. No, I didn't watch Al Gore's "Incovenient Truth", I did something better. I found a forecast for the world.