Of Gervinho and some much needed closure

When “The Forehead” that is Gervinho’s made its final turn away from the bright lights at the Emirates (to astound his new suitors at Roma at just how it is suddenly all you can see once you acknowledge its presence), the overwhelming emotion, among the Arsenal faithful, was one of relief.

Yeah, the forehead potshot was probably uncalled for. Except that I think it was long overdue. Although my time as an Arsenal supporter has remarkably coincided with the barren trophy-less years (what? it isn’t my fault!), I have mostly refrained from criticizing the many forgettable jokes that have come through the doors of this great football club.

Why? Silly question, really. Any Gooner out there worth his tears will bellow out to you those immortal words “In Wenger we trust”. Through all the trials and tribulations, the heartbreaks and the controversies, I have always been able to see the man who has been preventing this club from falling apart at the seams.

Call it youthful naivety, but my once-teenaged heart swore an eternal loyalty to Wenger’s ways, and its faith is only starting to be repaid. But now that the Forehead is off blinding the unfortunate souls who pack inside the Stadio Olimpico on those glorious European nights, I thought that I could get around to a bit of deserved Gervinho bashing, and some much-needed closure.

Armed with the swagger of a thousand potential Ozil assists, I was slipping into my boxing gloves, not even caring to put on a mouth guard; when, without as much as a warning, the Ivorian lands a vicious right hook, bare-knuckled and all. In his 6^th performance in a Roma shirt, the man notched up a superlative brace against a Bologna side that was literally tripping all over itself for the Gervinho show. And I was knocked out cold. I mean, come on ref, I didn’t even hear the damn bell go off!

To his credit, Gervinho has been getting better and better since his summer move to i Giallorossi. But you’ll forgive me if I did not see that knockout blow (viciously illegal knockout blow, by the way) coming. After two years of making me wonder if he even understands the concept of the goalpost, I see two goals of unerring precision and quality (in the same match!). I mean, that would be like Nicklas Bendtner scoring a hat trick on his return to the Emirates. Oh wait, that guy still plays for us.

While trying to forget the Dane’s pathetic attempt to summon the Force; with that awful Ewan McGregor-inspired Obi-Wan Kenobi look that he sports today, I found myself diving headfirst into the mystery that is Gervinho. And guess what, buddy, the gloves are coming off. The combined efforts of Sir “Holier-Than-Thou” Alex Ferguson and Jose “The Mouth” Mourinho could not have saved you. Although you could really do with some of that hair-dryer treatment everyone keeps talking about; anything to cover up that forehead.

And while we’re on topic of The Forehead, it is now covered up in a headband of sorts; only to be seen by the worthy, while giving him a passing resemblance to the ages-like-fine-wine Ronaldinho. And dare I say it; some of the play we saw on that night bore more than just a passing resemblance to the Brazilian. Running at the two defenders ahead of him with a purpose and a drive not seen since his heydays in Lille, he proceeded to lock down his head, making his intentions known. And voilà! A finish of consummate quality followed; one that spoke in a language that was barely heard from the heights of the towering Emirates stadium in his time there.

The second one was even more impressive. On the counter, with the ball at his feet and just inside the opposition half, it seemed like he had the ball glued to his feet as his swift change in direction helped him effortlessly skip past the retreating defender. A perfect finish into the top corner brought down the house, more out of surprise than anything else. Indeed, a dejected Mikael Antonsson ended up watching the ball fly into that top corner from the exceedingly comfortable position of being flat on his chest, practically sprawling after the ball as Gervinho ghosted past him. He now has to live out his days, forever haunted by that memory.

But Antonsson can clutch at the hope that this may have been yet another false dawn for the Ivorian, not that this possibility will prevent the YouTube replays of that second goal from racking up quite a count. The mind wanders to a match-up against Reading last season, when his man-of-the-match performance (a goal and two assists) proved to be his last “flash in the pan” moment in an Arsenal jersey.

Perhaps the reason I am so critical is because of the expectations I harbored in my mind when he was signed from Lille, in the wake of the traitor Samir Nasri’s imminent move to the blue half of Manchester. Possessing (supposedly) tremendous close control, pace and a decent ability in front of goal, I was inclined to think that Wenger had pulled another rabbit out of his magician’s hat with the Ivorian’s signing. But the depths to which Gervinho’s stock has sunk in his two years here (through nobody’s fault but his own), makes this one show that still has our much-loved magician wondering what on earth it was that came out of his hat two years ago.

My guess is a comedian, one who tried to upstage Wenger’s own act. A comedian whose collage of glaring misses in front of goal, misplaced passes and ineffective dribbles is sure to have you in splits; if you support any team other than Arsenal F.C, that is. He committed that cardinal sin of not knowing his audience; something that Chandler Bing taught all of us in Comedy 101. For his sake I hope Gervinho has realized by now that he is no comedian; that he is, in fact, a gifted performer who owes it to himself, and to the game, more performances that prove that he still has what it takes to cut it with the best.

Any qualms Arsenal supporters had about his ill-fated Arsenal adventure are already forgotten. Wenger somehow orchestrated proceedings so that the domino effect from Gervinho’s sale led not to Mesut Ozil’s last-gasp arrival, but also to the previous departure of nemesis Gareth Bale from eternal rivals Tottenham’s ranks. Although logic does not permit one to think that one man could possibly foresee such a chain of events, the Gooner in me wouldn’t put it past the old master to be capable of such a feat. And in doing so, the great man has enthralled a spellbound Arsenal with his latest act; that of the “puppet master”.

And so, Gervinho, old friend, resign yourself to the knowledge that you are but a pawn in the great game. And delight in this blissful oblivion in you new surroundings. I wish you, and the forehead that was reportedly all Felix Baumgartner could see on his dive down from space, nothing but the best.