Cesc Gave Me Herpes (Pt 1 of a 2 Pt Trilogy)

CESC Gave Me Herpes.


This is in fact part of a 2 part Trilogy. A Duology if you like. A Biology if you prefer. A dilogololly if you must. The 2nd part “The Summer of Weasels” is here.

Let’s talk about Cesc, baby. Let’s talk about you and me

First we shall talk about the aftermath of the Cesc Summer break-up. Why now?

1. Because my Ex has been talking shit about me
2. The 1 year anniversary of our break-up is looming large and I want to avoid the same “mistakes” as last time.

Shouldn’t we be focusing on the run-in to the end of the season, on securing 3rd? Too late, my friend, the genie is out of the bottle already. As you are about to see in some upcoming snippets from the Twittersphere which were egged on by Cesc being in town, RvP contract speculation and a looming AST meeting on Monday, the genie is mincing around the town, screaming at the top of his voice, doing genie stuff.

Let’s start with Cesc:

He was in town. Talking. Answering questions. “Candidly.”

via the (The Telegraph)

Fabregas was equally candid and engaging in analysing his own development since leaving Arsenal last summer.
“I’ve learnt a lot tactically, personally,” he said. “I know my position on the pitch a lot more. (OUCH!)
“Before I was free to do whatever on the pitch at Arsenal, and I wasn’t tactically good. (OUCH!)
“I was playing wherever I wanted, up and down. Here I have to work much more for the team, individually, and think about the team tactically.
“That’s what I’ve improved most. I feel more mature as a player now.
“Before I was going just up and down and was a bit lost in important moments because I wanted to do everything myself. (OUCH OUCH OUCH!)
“Here my team-mates are more experienced than me and make me realise that you have to stay calm, patient and just do your job.”
There was no direct criticism of Arsenal manager Arsène Wenger, a man he describes as “the greatest person he has met in football”, but the implication was still clear.

Put simply, it was that there was significantly less structure to the approach of Arsenal than that of Barcelona.
And there are clearly no regrets over leaving English football.

The One Year Anniversary Looms

I remember hearing divorce/break-up advice many years ago which I have generally found to be true in life. At the end of any major relationship you will need at least 12 months at the very least before you can truly begin to move on. At least one anniversary, one birthday, one Christmas, on Summer vacation without your ex-lover before you can reach some kind of a closure. I was so close to getting through the year and then there he is, looking like he always did. Looking good. Looking happy. Smiling that smile. That’s part of the process too, I suppose.

But there he was showing up in our town on the end of his new Beau’s arm. Nothing stirs up that well of emotion like hearing your ex has been “explaining” your failed relationship to your circle of friends and acquaintances in public.

Never compare lovers in public.

And so it was with Cesc last week. There was plenty of hot and heavy debate as to whether he said anything terribly insulting or not. There is no debate that it stung us to the core to hear him comparing how wonderful his new beau is and how experienced. How he tells Cesc what to do, where to go and how to behave. It is galling to see how Cesc dutifully follows like a little lapdog. And in the next breath he explains how we had no idea what we were doing together in the sack, “Before I was going just up and down” he told the assembled throng. It was directionless and aimless and, ultimately, entirely unsatisfying. There was never a climax, not with us, apparently.

Really? Well, that’s not how it seemed to me at the time, you little shit. You seemed to be enjoying it plenty.

Within an instant my heart has been ripped from my rib-cage, flung against the wall and then stamped on mercilessly by a metal boot. Then placed back in my chest. And I am supposed to move on.

Now, this may or may not have been what Cesc was trying to say but it would inevitably sound like that to his ex – me, you?, his old team mates, Wenger. in particular, his old team-mates. But mostly me. That’s why, Cesc, it is better not to discuss your ex and your love-life in public at all. It won’t go well for you and you will invariably be pouring a pot of salt in the wound. Never compare lovers in public.


Brady commenting on Cesc in the Chelsea game

Denial is of course one of the 97 stages of breakup recovery

And when i feel their big, hairy, commanding hands on my ass…


We had built a home together. We had plans. I gave up other opportunities. We built our future around him.

And, oh yeah, Cesc gave me Herpes.

The day after, I stayed home from work, got drunk and threw myself a pity party. I put on my favorite heart-break track. Every word applies to Cesc, apart from about half of them:

Don’t Want You Back (by Eamon):

[Verse 2:]
You thought, you could
Keep this shit from me, yeah
You burnt bitch, I heard the story
You played me, you even gave him head
Now you asking for me back
You just another act, look elsewhere
Cause you done with me

Fuck what I said it don’t mean shit now
Fuck the presents might as well throw em out
Fuck all those kisses they didn’t mean jack
Fuck you, you ho, I don’t want you back

From Love to Bitterness to JGF (Just Good Friends)
Some day in the future, Cesc and I will be friends again. He’s a good guy. He just wanted to play for his childhood club which happens to be arguably the best team in history. If that was Shamrock Rovers, and I was any good, I’d have done the same. But the path to friendship with your ex-lover often passes through bitterness and anger before you can move on.

Now Arsenal, the spurned lover, is re-evaluating everything that happened before, trying to ensure we never make the same mistake, never expose ourselves like that again or go through break-up hell like that again.

But we have been comforting ourselves that we’ve learned from our mistakes, that they were avoidable, that if we had played our hand differently it could all have turned out differently.

I Got A New Boyfriend

Did I mention that, guess what, I have a new beau myself. It’s too soon for me to get straight back into a heavy relationship but I follow my heart and I didn’t plan it this way. So here we are again. Meet MY new beau, Robin.

Everything is going SO well that now I am starting to worry. It’s going too well. He’s been wonderful to me all year. He’s performing in ALL departments, if you know what I mean. I often joke with him that “ He can score whenever he wants to.” That’s kind of an in-joke between me and Robin, that the rest of you wouldn’t get.

And he’s really grown. We’ve really grown together. I can honestly say that for the most part I had forgotten about Cesc until he showed up last week and started blabbing.

But recently I have started fretting that I might be seeing some of the same worrying behaviours…a “friend” says she saw Robin skulking in and out of a downtown hotel when he was supposed to be heading home to me and now I am gripped by that same fear all over again. Why can’t I ever keep my man’s attention like one of those leggy Spanish Supermodels. How many men can they need. I mean they can’t date more than 25 men at the same time plus an unlimited number of under-age youths. The sluts. Sure they put out in the Trophy department but aren’t there any good men who look deeper than that?

Robin and I have talked about getting engaged but he says work is too crazy right now, that we will sit down and talk about it in the Summer when everything has calmed down. But my biological clock is ticking and I can’t, I won’t go through this again. I need an answer and I need it quickly. I want to know where I stand before he heads off with all his old buddies back-packing through Eastern Europe for the Summer. I hope and pray we want the same thing.

This Contract shit. It’s not rocket science, you know!

As you can see from the Twitter exchange above, it includes a reference to the article by David Hytner in the Guardian which states:

But Wenger, perhaps mindful of the unsettling nature of last summer when he lost Cesc Fábregas and Samir Nasri in August and was pressed into a frantic transfer market swoop, wants clarity at the outset this time. “That will be sorted at the end of the season,” he said, on the subject of Van Persie’s future. “Yes, it will be before the Euros.”

Hmmm. So it’s not rocket science eh? Well, that should be simple enough, then.

To be continued tomorrow in “The Summer of Weasels.”