Bye bye Robin, Robin bye bye.

Farewell, RvP

Robin's off. Bye. Thanks. Don't let the door slam.

There's plenty of weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth and disagreements among Arsenal folk. MM and I can't agree on what RvP's statement means to, and implies about, the club and how it's run.

I've yet to weep, wail or grind my teeth. It was inevitable, let alone predictable and foreseeable. I'm in the camp that is tired of the rubbish the club talks and the way things are managed:

Wenger: The Premeriship goes to the club with the most points. If two tie, goal difference decides. If points and goal difference are equal, the most goals scored wins. At no stage does points per pound spent come into the equation. It isn't a vanity project. Sport is about winning, not doing the best you can without spending big. Sort it out. Live and manage in the real world, where City won the league and Chelsea won the Champions' league, or clear off and conduct your experiments elsewhere. We don't all see ourselves with infinite lifespans to wait it out and enjoy some success in the distant future. Oh and sort the squad thing out. Too many makeweights, lightweights and perennial treatment table layabouts. Clear them out, loan them out, or make their lives so miserable they go of their own accord.

Ivan Gazidis: the most successful banks in Western Europe in 2012 are Credit Suisse, Barclays Capital and Goldman Sachs. If you want to support one of them, fine. Get the scarf and the bobble hat (more like the oversize umbrella and horseblanket) and clear off and go “ra ra ra” at their financial prudence and astute investments, and please leave the Arsenal. You point to the bank balance repeatedly. Shove it. Look at the league table. Look at the trophy cabinet. S***s have won silverware since us. Liverpool have won silverware since we last did. Birmingham have won a trophy during our barren years. Barren years that will continue unless you have some sort of awakening and head and body transplant, or we get someone else in. Oh. You've also triumphantly overseen negotiating the worst kit and stadium sponsorship deals imaginable. What, exactly is it you do? What's your contribution? Cesc? Gone. Robin? Gone. Next year? Jack? Who can blame them. They get promises then nothing materialises. Players want to win stuff, not to sleep soundly in the knowledge that their club's on a sound financial footing.

If we're going to have someone less than brilliant in the post, can we at least give the job to a less than brilliant Gooner and not an incompetent City fan?

What a disaster

Murali Kaclik had an absolute nightmare for Surrey against Kent yesterday. Bad enough to be run out, from the non-striker's end, without even facing a ball. Worse, much worse, someone only got at his personal profile details and it was broadcast to the nation that his favourite artist was Phil Collins. That's got to hurt.

Robert Key

Captained Kent well in the field. Wearing a sleeveless fleece. With the name “Cook” on the back. He is one of life's scruffy dudes (welcome to my world, Robert) and would be played by Randy Quaid in the film of his lifestory.