Mudryk: The Truth.

January, 2023. Under the guidance of Mikel Arteta and his DOF, Edu, Arsenal have risen to the top of the premiership table. But despite this Lazarus-type resurrection nobody at the club was taking anything for granted. The intensity of competition amongst England’s elite clubs was reflected by the awareness amongst Arsenal’s leaders that this was no time for self congratulation. Instead, the opening of the transfer window presented the club with an opportunity to strengthen a squad that many felt would not last the distance against the two Manchester giants and a growing threat in England’s North East.

It was under these circumstances that the People Responsible for Arsenal’s Transfer Strategy (P.R.A.T.S) assembled in the pristine and hallowed surroundings of Arsenal’s boardroom.

As the scene unfolds before us, a clearly upset and emotional Mikel Arteta is standing before the others, demanding answers. The intensity of his emotional trauma is clearly evident in the two hairs above his left ear which are no longer perfectly aligned with the rest. The Arsenal manager is incandescent with rage.

MA: I will ask you this one more time and one more time only. How the fuck did we lose him?

(There is a palpable silence as Arteta slowly shifts his gaze from one person to another, daring them to speak yet challenging them not to. Only goalkeeping coach Inaki Cana returns his stare though in truth it isn’t clear if he even sees Arteta from behind his dark shades. The silence grows in tandem with the manager’s rage)

And not just lose him, but lose him to those chav bast*rds! What the fuck do they have to offer that we don’t? I mean am I missing something here? (Turns to his assistant manager Steve Round) Steve, who’s top of the league?

SR: We are boss.

MA: Exactly! And Edu who plays attractive football with an attacking and vibrant style?

Edu: (nervously) We do boss?

MA: Exactly!

(Edu wipes his brow and smiles in relief)

MA: (turns to chairman and son of owner Josh Kroenke) And Josh, who’s offering this Ukranian kid a chance to play in London and earn more money that he can dream of?

JK: Chelsea.
MA: No! No!! No!!! (starts jumping up and down while somehow simultaneously beating his fists on the table) We are! We’re top dogs in London now! He should have joined us! (An accusing look appears in his eyes once more) Something smells fishy here.

IC: (Defensively) It can be difficult for the visually impaired to maintain a regular bathing routine you know.

MA: (slowly, menacingly) I was referring to the failed transfer. Somebody here is keeping secrets. (once again his icy stare sweeps across the room, withering all in it’s wake, uncovering the most deeply buried skeletons.. one by one each member succumbs to Arteta’s power)

SR: It was just once boss and I swear the doctor told me the stockings would improve my circulation.

IC: It was a freezing winter that year, sheep can bring great warmth to a bed.

RG: You don’t understand, I had been a very, very bold boy, I HAD to be punished.

(Watching in horrified awe Josh Kroenke hurriedly whispers to Edu)

JK: For the love of God, tell him. If he turns that look on me who knows what I might say? Twins don’t have to be two girls, I mean, who knew?

Edu: (Equally uncomfortable) You’re right. The time has come. (in saying this Edu looks directly at a painting on the wall of legendary Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger and with an almost imperceptible nod he sends a signal that had long been planned. Turning to Arteta he addresses him with gentle but firm words)

Mikel, there is something we need to tell you. I think you should sit down.

MA: Not you as well, you sound like that c*nt Richard Keys. I can’t sit down for 90 minutes and still look this good (he lifts his t-shirt to reveal chiselled abs) Those carbs aren’t going to burn themselves you know.

Edu: I’m not talking about during the game, I mean now. You should sit down now.

JK: Yeah Mike, we gotta talk. Pops sent Ricky (points to Stan Kroenke’s lawyer Richard Garlick) over here a few months ago with some pretty bad news. We didn’t have the heart to tell you.

MA: Tell me? Tell me what?

JK: It’s gone Mike.

MA: Gone? What’s gone?

Edu: (wearily) The money. The blank cheques. The magic porridge pot.

JK: Pops has pulled the plug on the unlimited funding. He was, like, bummed. Kept talking about profits and sustainability and shit. Kept going on about Arsenal being a business. Weird shit I tell you. I tried to explain that this (expands both arms to take in his surroundings) is a football club not a business but he wouldn’t see sense. Man was tripping.

MA: (speaking slowly, an air of disbelief resonating with every word) So what happens when I give multi million contracts to players like Aubameyang and Willian and then decide I don’t like them anymore? Surely I can just pay them to fuck off?

RG: Mr Kroenke was clear. You’re not to do that anymore.

MA: What?? (becoming angry) Does he think I’m bloody clairvoyant? How am I meant to know if these players are going to be worth the money or not?

JK: (soothingly) We know Mike, it’s madness.

MA: (unmoved by the solace on offer) And how the hell does he think I’m going to continue developing this team if I’m not given hundreds of millions each year to buy new players?

Edu: (visibly moved) It’s cruel, we know.

MA: And what about project youth? Did you explain to him how I have given away our team for a pittance and replaced them with expensive young players? Surely he sees the value in this?

JK: I’m afraid not Mike. He said that people who unearth diamonds don’t do it by walking into High Street shops and offering even more money than the robbing jewellers are already charging.

MA: (confused) What does that even mean?

Edu: (hands spread wide) Fu*ked if I know.

RG: (Coughing softly) Ah gentlemen, if I may? Mr Kroenke has been most clear. You are free to spend the proceeds of any player sales that you complete but you will be expected to limit your spending in future to money generated from the club’s incomes. However as a gesture of good faith he has instructed me to forward you the sum of £40 million pounds to help with the purchase of any targets you may have.

MA: (Optimistically) £40 million? (looks to Edu) How much can we raise in sales?

Edu: (Takes out a pocket calculator and with professional intensity casts his tongue out of the side of his mouth and begins mumbling) Let me see, sale of Leno…Guendouzi…Bellerin…Auba… (his muttering becomes inaudible as all present strain to hear him. Finally, triumphantly, he finishes and declares) £21 million!!

MA: (appeased) Ok then, we combine the two and we have £61 million to play with. We can do something with that.

Edu: (Embarrassed) Eh, not exactly boss. £21 million is what we have left over from the £40 million gift. By the time we pay Ozil’s wage and Auba’ ‘going away’ gift it’s all we’ll have left.

MA: £21 fucking million. What the fuck are we going to get for that? I spend more than that in one year on Carribean Seaweed Eyebrow nourisher. We’re ruined. (As he speaks the following lines he slowly folds in upon himself until he finishes on his knees, head bowed) My dream of proving to the world that I could take a team of expensively assembled misfits and by casting them aside at great cost and replacing them with a team costing hundreds and hundreds of millions I could somehow build this club a better football team is over. (With theatrical reflection) Little Arsenal in the champions league. Perhaps I dreamed too big.

Edu: (whispering and elbowing JK simultaneously) Tell him!

JK: (A little too loudly) No fucking way man, you tell him!

MA: (Rising up from the floor) Tell me what? Tell me what???

RG: If I may? Mikel, Mr Kroenke is nothing if not an astute businessman. He anticipated some months back that his new fiscal policy would cause you some…difficulty. He was also aware that the January transfer window would prove an unsettling time for you given your…fondness…for parting with his money. As such, some months back he took steps to find support for you during this period of policy transition.

MA: (a mixture of suspicion and anger in his voice) Support? What kind of support??

RG: (Remaining perfectly composed) Mr Kroenke thought it prudent for the club to seek the services of a man experienced in the area of financial conservatism…for the time being at least.
(With almost impeccable timing a knock is heard at the door which slowly opens, drawing the eyes of everyone present. Slowly, magnificently, the unmistakable figure of Arsene Wenger, resplendent in a long puffer Arsenal parka enters the room, a man whose very presence seemed to radiate command. He turned and smiled in his own inimitable manner, his lips never parting as he beamed his hellos. The reaction of those present varied from shock to outright elation. Hands immediately reached for zippers as a homage to this footballing God, but a raised grey eyebrow was enough to warn them against revealing their identity in this company. Arteta however, having been momentarily dumbstruck, began to struggle to verbalise his thoughts).

MA: What the ..who.. why? What is he doing here?

AW: Mikel, you must not look on me as a threat to your reign here. I have merely returned to offer you my support and what little wisdom I can to guide you through these difficult times. But I can assure you the reins of power are still firmly in your hands (as he speaks he ushers a cowering Josh Kroenke from his seat at the head of the table and seamlessly replaces him in the chair). I will be a mere shadow, only appearing when called upon.

MA: (Pointing at Wengers jacket where the word B.O.S.S has been sewn in large letters in the left corner.) What the hell is that then?

AW: (Points to jacket) This? Why, this is merely a reflection of my new role as Bestower of Special Services. Think nothing of it.

MA: (Unamused. Looks at the others in the room) And I suppose you all knew of this before me?

JK: (Speaking quickly, attempting to mitigate the damage) Only out of necessity Mikel. You were so busy with the team. And Arsene has already had some fantastic ideas which have helped us enormously.

MA: (Still annoyed) Already? What do you mean already?

AW: Mikel, we are on the same side you and I. The fans, they love you. We must not risk that.

MA: (Arteta, his ego stroked, responds more willingly) Well, what do you suggest?

AW: We must put our faith in FFP.

MA: (disconsolately) Financial Fair Play is a myth, a joke. Pep used to laugh at it all the time. It won’t help us.

AW: What is this financial fair play you speak of? I am referring to a plan I created almost twenty years ago…Feigning Financial Power.

MA: (Showing interest) How does it work?

AW: (Smiling as he recognises his influence growing) Oh, it’s quite simple really. We leak word to the press of our interest in all the top players, we even go so far as to bid outrageous sums of money for them.

MA: (Beginning to understand) So the fans will think we are dining at the top table?

AW: Of course. Ronaldo, Ibrahimovic, Benzema, Hazard, Mbappe. I have ‘courted’ them all.

MA: (slowly realising the truth) So it was you who gave the green light for the 90 million Mudryk package? But you never intended paying a penny did you?

AW: Of course not. I wouldn’t pay that for a small country.

MA: But what would you have done if the offer was accepted?

AW: (smiling) Simple. Insult the player with a ridiculously low wage offer.

MA: And if that doesn’t work?

AW: Then I make a call from line 3 in the manager’s office.

MA: (Confused) line 3?

AW: It’s bugged. Every word I say is heard by the top brass at Chelsea.

MA: (Scratching his head) Then why use it?

AW: Because I tell them what I WANT them to hear. (Chuckling) I’ve had great fun over the years. I rang David Dein one day begging him to buy Adrian Mutu, said he was going to replace Thierry (starts giggling at his own joke). Or the time I rang Gerry Peyton and told him to scout Kepa, said he was the next Casillas! (Lost in thought) Funny thing was Gerry agreed… I still don’t remember telling him about the ruse. (Shakes his head). Of course Alex was in on it too. They had his office bugged as well. We still laugh about the time he rang me ‘desperately’ trying to offload Juan Sebastian Veron before Chelsea came sniffing. (starts guffawing at the memory) He was in a Chelsea kit before the week was out!!

MA: So you orchestrated this entire Mudryk saga?

AW: (Steepling his fingers together and slowly peering over the top of them). But of course.

MA: And the fans believe we really tried to buy him but we’re gazumped by Chelsea or rejected by a greedy player?

AW: Precisely.
MA: But the fans? They’ll still want fresh blood.

AW: We then move to phase 2. Have you a crowd favourite who has been out injured for a while?

MA: (thinking) Well there is Smith Rowe.

AW: Wonderful. Reintroduce him at the end of some meaningless match. Announce his return as better than a new signing.

MA: The fans will buy that?

AW: (eyes glittering) Absolutely.

MA: Then what?

AW: Phase 3, Misdirection. Take the high ground. Start talking about ‘The Arsenal Way’. ‘We don’t buy superstars we make them’. That kind of nonsense. Just keep pointing at City and Chelsea for long enough that the fans forget that your team cost the same to assemble as a NASA space shuttle while your mistakes cost more than Jurgen Klopp’s dental bill. Let jealousy of our rivals be your ally.

MA: (delighted) This could really work!

AW: Believe it my friend. And then finally stage 4. The gift.

MA: The gift?

AW: Yes. Having destroyed the supporters levels of expectation you can then present them with literally any piece of shite and they will fall over themselves in gratitude. (Starts chuckling at the memory) I remember one year I has convinced the fanbase we couldn’t afford petrol for the lawnmower. When I presented them with 3 of the worst players I’ve ever signed the fans hailed me as a messiah! Santos, Park and (Suddenly realises what he’s about to say)… and… and it’s guaranteed to work.

MA: (Feels like he’s missed something but is unwilling to admit it) Ok then. I’m in. But I’m warning you, I won’t broker the slightest undermining of my authority.

JK: Absolutely Mikel. You are king of all you survey, no-one doubts that. Nothing will change. Nothing at all.

AW: (humbly) Mikel, you won’t even know I’m here.

(At this all rise and Arteta and Wenger move towards the door)

Edu: Goodbye boss.

MA and AW simultaneously: Goodbye.

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[Satire] is a collection of brilliance from one of our readers Almuniasaynomore, who can be seen lurking in comments often. This section tries to have a laugh at expense of some.

If you feel offended, remember, they’re just jokes. We’re all gonna die soon and there’s no football in hell or heaven, so remember that.

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