June 23, 2007
THIS time there could be only one answer for Thierry Henry — he had to leave Arsenal.
A year ago when the French star agonised over whether to stay with the Gunners or head for the Nou Camp, there was a gravitational pull dragging him back to North London.
Despite having had a poor Premier League season, Arsenal had narrowly lost the final of the Champions League to Barcelona and Henry could still see a vision for the future under manager Arsene Wenger and vice-chairman David Dein if he squinted hard enough.
He did not want to believe tales of doom that Arsenal were falling behind the big-boys.
But then Dein, the valued players’ ally on the board, departed — forced out because he believed the new investment which could be provided by American Stan Kroenke was crucial to the club’s future.
Now the signs are that Wenger, the genius who took Arsenal to a higher plane, will fly the nest next summer — if not before.
No Dein, no Henry and soon no Wenger. Arsenal as we know it, is dying a painful death.
This is no ordinary player quitting the Emirates, Henry is a man who epitomises everything which new Arsenal stood for.
He played the beautiful game and, given licence by Wenger, transformed the team from one which had the reputation of “boring, boring Arsenal” to “scoring, scoring Arsenal”.
They were the great entertainers who went through a whole league season unbeaten, not by protecting their own penalty area but by playing the game with a swagger.
Henry was Premiership box office. He was one of those players opposition supporters wanted to see.
Who could forgot the way Portsmouth fans took him to their hearts while he was single-handedly destroying them.
This was a man who lifted bums off seats.
The Premiership is losing its principal boy and possibly the greatest player the league has ever seen.
But one thing we have learned in the eight years since Henry arrived as a gangly winger from Juventus is that he is his own man.
He is a bright, articulate footballer who has a mind of his own.
He has had plenty of advice from the likes of Patrick Vieira and Barcelona striker Samuel Eto’o about what he should do and that it might be time to move on — but he makes his own decisions. Nobody does it for him.
Henry had done little to dampen down the speculation which has been raging since the end of the season that he would be on his way.
The only time he got angry was when the Spanish Press claimed a deal had been done. It had not but he did not say it would not be.
Henry could see the writing sprayed all over the wall at the pristine £390million Emirates Stadium.
Wenger once famously said there was no point having a spanking new ground if you did not have a team worth putting in it.
But he learned to his cost that the funds were being eaten up by bricks and mortar and that the fuddy-duddy board’s determination to hold on to the reins of power was at the expense of his desire that Arsenal should rule at home and abroad.
Henry could see the danger signs, too, and his meeting with Wenger confirmed it.
In Barcelona, Henry is joining a wounded animal which wants to bite back having lost the title to Real Madrid.
They will not be pussy-footing around in fourth place, miles off the top of the table like Arsenal have been. They are guaranteed to be fighting it out for the silverware.
What a front three they will have there in £16m new-boy Henry, Ronaldinho and Eto’o. That will be the hottest ticket in town. There will be a vibrancy at the Nou Camp — in contrast to despondency at the Emirates.
Henry will be 30 in August. This was his last chance to play with one of the greatest clubs of them all.
He has stayed fabulously loyal to Arsenal and no one should begrudge him the chance to better himself.
But it is not just Arsenal who are the losers.
Everyone in the country who loves entertaining football should be shedding a tear today.
THIS time there could be only one answer for Thierry Henry — he had to leave Arsenal.
A year ago when the French star agonised over whether to stay with the Gunners or head for the Nou Camp, there was a gravitational pull dragging him back to North London.
Despite having had a poor Premier League season, Arsenal had narrowly lost the final of the Champions League to Barcelona and Henry could still see a vision for the future under manager Arsene Wenger and vice-chairman David Dein if he squinted hard enough.
He did not want to believe tales of doom that Arsenal were falling behind the big-boys.
But then Dein, the valued players’ ally on the board, departed — forced out because he believed the new investment which could be provided by American Stan Kroenke was crucial to the club’s future.
Now the signs are that Wenger, the genius who took Arsenal to a higher plane, will fly the nest next summer — if not before.
No Dein, no Henry and soon no Wenger. Arsenal as we know it, is dying a painful death.
This is no ordinary player quitting the Emirates, Henry is a man who epitomises everything which new Arsenal stood for.
He played the beautiful game and, given licence by Wenger, transformed the team from one which had the reputation of “boring, boring Arsenal” to “scoring, scoring Arsenal”.
They were the great entertainers who went through a whole league season unbeaten, not by protecting their own penalty area but by playing the game with a swagger.
Henry was Premiership box office. He was one of those players opposition supporters wanted to see.
Who could forgot the way Portsmouth fans took him to their hearts while he was single-handedly destroying them.
This was a man who lifted bums off seats.
The Premiership is losing its principal boy and possibly the greatest player the league has ever seen.
But one thing we have learned in the eight years since Henry arrived as a gangly winger from Juventus is that he is his own man.
He is a bright, articulate footballer who has a mind of his own.
He has had plenty of advice from the likes of Patrick Vieira and Barcelona striker Samuel Eto’o about what he should do and that it might be time to move on — but he makes his own decisions. Nobody does it for him.
Henry had done little to dampen down the speculation which has been raging since the end of the season that he would be on his way.
The only time he got angry was when the Spanish Press claimed a deal had been done. It had not but he did not say it would not be.
Henry could see the writing sprayed all over the wall at the pristine £390million Emirates Stadium.
Wenger once famously said there was no point having a spanking new ground if you did not have a team worth putting in it.
But he learned to his cost that the funds were being eaten up by bricks and mortar and that the fuddy-duddy board’s determination to hold on to the reins of power was at the expense of his desire that Arsenal should rule at home and abroad.
Henry could see the danger signs, too, and his meeting with Wenger confirmed it.
In Barcelona, Henry is joining a wounded animal which wants to bite back having lost the title to Real Madrid.
They will not be pussy-footing around in fourth place, miles off the top of the table like Arsenal have been. They are guaranteed to be fighting it out for the silverware.
What a front three they will have there in £16m new-boy Henry, Ronaldinho and Eto’o. That will be the hottest ticket in town. There will be a vibrancy at the Nou Camp — in contrast to despondency at the Emirates.
Henry will be 30 in August. This was his last chance to play with one of the greatest clubs of them all.
He has stayed fabulously loyal to Arsenal and no one should begrudge him the chance to better himself.
But it is not just Arsenal who are the losers.
Everyone in the country who loves entertaining football should be shedding a tear today.