Published: 8 January, 2015

ARSENAL by Richard Osley

THIS may earn me some hours in the stocks on some sort of treason charge, but is it OK for everybody to chill a little with the creamy praise over Steven Gerrard. Just for a moment. Pleeaase. I mean a couple of days celebrating his not insignificant career was fine – well done Stevie, enjoy the States.  But a farewell dragged over the remaining four months of the season will surely become fatiguing.

With each fresh ransack of the superlative thesaurus, Gerrard is lofted higher and higher. It’s as if everybody has been told that the first television pundit to stop soaping on about Gerrard’s supreme beingness will be struck by a bolt of lightning and thrown into the inferno.

Believe me, I view the guy as a very, very, very good player. But, in a second of clarity,  when all is said and done, he will not be remembered across the world, in all the history books, like Pele, or Messi, or Maradona… or Thierry Henry. And yet two goals against Wimbledon, and he's a messiah once more. Gerrard was the best player in a Liverpool team that hasn't won the league for nearly a quarter of a century. We get that.

He scored screamers and ran his socks off. He stuck with it. He got the better of our boys more than once. It's even possible to feel sorry for him, in the cold light of the day, for falling over at the vital moment last season when the holy grail of the Premiership title was in sight.

But it's no no no no to frothy-faced commentators bleating out the gunky script of a long goodbye. It's too much.

SPURS by Catherine Etoe

APPARENTLY 33 Premier League goals were scored on New Year’s Day. 

“Which was your favourite?” asked a perky Gary Lineker on Match of the Day. Hmm, tricky one, Gary. Thinking about Tottenham versus Chelsea, my gut instinct is to point to our first: the sight of Harry Kane flummoxing three players then walloping in our equaliser will live long in the memory. Job done. But then at around 2.55am (that’s five to three, in case you’re wondering), I sat bolt upright in bed and changed my mind. Actually, Gary, my proper favourite is the second of our five goals: in off the post from Danny Rose. 

While comforting Gran’s Chelsea-supporting pal Florrie with a cooked breakfast, it dawned on me that our third goal was better. Gary, I’d like to switch to Andros Townsend’s penalty, if I may, mostly because of the scowl on Jose Mourinho’s face when we won it. 

Oh, dear, after further mulling over Gary’s poser with Florrie in the pub, I switched again. Gary, I think Harry Kane making a muppet out of Nemanja Matic before slotting home is my real fave. Then, at 2.55pm, after I’d finished rewatching Match of the Day, I almost did an about-turn in favour of Dusan Tadic’s tap-in against Keystone Cops FC (aka Arsenal); but sense prevailed. Hope you understand, Gary, but after giving this rather more thought than you probably expected, I’m going to plump for Nacer Chadli and our fifth goal in the 5-3 rout of the “Champions”.