I will be the first to admit, I have a sick and endearing obsession with the Arsenal and France striker, Olivier Giroud. Many question my sexuality over the man I choose to admire and my footballing IQ, as he is only a half decent striker, but Giroud is the man for me.
That doesn’t mean we won’t have our quarrels, and now that I have settled down after the recent Champions League tie with Paris Saint Germain, I can speak about Giroud without wanting to gouge his eyes out or light his well-manicured beard on fire.
We all know the Frenchman is a beautiful specimen of a man, but not the brightest footballer in intense, pressure-filled situation.
Maybe it’s in the water in France; fits of madness seem to be quite common for French footballers like Zinedine Zidane and the King of Manchester, Eric Cantona.
I can’t imagine what Cantona would do if a waiter messed up his order of Coq au vin in a Parisian cafe, the poor man would end with up a butter knife lodged in his neck.
Although Giroud is not as mad as the head-butting Zidane or fan attacking Cantona, the Gunner is just plain stupid.
Olivier Giroud is that woman that everyone wants to shag at the club, but hopes she never opens her mouth in fear of her saying something so ignorant that you no longer want to bed her.
In the past two seasons, Giroud has successfully been sent off in the opening matches of the Champions League group stage, leaving a giant gap in the center forward spot for the Gunners next match in the Champions League.
If Giroud only had a brain and maybe some better finishing, the Gunners wouldn’t be in this position and he’d be starting the next match in the Champions League.
His ability to hold the ball up top and occupy defenders allowed for the creation of space for Ozil and Sanchez, subsequently leading to the goal.
Hopefully, he can follow the yellow brick road, find the Wizard of Oz, and get himself a brain to occupy the space between the ears.
He’s pretty, but so damn stupid at times.