Back in 2019, then Bournemouth midfielder Harry Arter deleted his twitter account. This is not especially remarkable. Only slightly more remarkable was the reason. Arter had responded to a tweet from the Labour party that said, ‘In a fair society, there would be no billionaires.’ His response, predictably, drew a slew of counter responses and he got drawn into terse political debate, as many of us have on social media from time to time.
In the ensuing exchange of views, Arter took exception to the mention of then Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. ‘The same Corbyn that openly admitted he lied through the whole campaign the day after Brexit about what he was planning to invest in the NHS?’ Arter asked. When it was gently pointed out to him that he had confused Corbyn with Tory leader and Prime Minister Boris Johnson he deleted his account, presumably in embarrassment.
It is not for ‘political’ reasons that I choose to raise this. But the incident stuck with me because, while it is tempting to suggest that Harry Arter should not be considered the political conscience of the country, the truth is probably that he isn’t far away from it. Quite simply he had continually half read and half seen ‘Corbyn = bad’ and ‘infamous pro Brexit bus with slogan promising £350m a week investment in the NHS’ and totally conflated them.
I think this type of ‘Mandela effect’ is becoming more and more commonplace in the digital world as we are bombarded with information. The human brain only processes around 20% of the information it receives each day and even then, your brain will take short cuts, observe patterns and make comparisons to make the information easier to digest.
This can often lead one’s critical thinking astray (it happens to all of us to differing extents) because information is not always neatly packaged, our brains often package it before presenting it to us to prevent complete and utter overload. When we throw our emotions and biases into the picture, it is easy to understand how humans can interpret information so differently.
Which brings me onto Arsenal (it does, I promise, stick with it). One of the most exhausting aspects of this season has been the utterly relentless discourse over every tiny thing that happens. On Sunday at Anfield, a fan produced a life sized cut out of Martin Odegaard wielding a camera.
The action of the captain taking a photograph of club photographer Stuart MacFarlane on the pitch had produced such ire that well over a year later, a Liverpool fan had held onto it to that extent. Fandom makes us all very irrational at times but I simply have to question any ecosystem that takes such umbrage over something so utterly unremarkable.
Because my fandom makes me irrational too and because I have a hugely overactive brain, I have become profoundly irritated at the distance between the perception of Mikel Arteta’s public messaging and (what I deem to be) the reality. I don’t even classify this phenomenon as a difference in interpretation (and I have to accept the reality that I might be the irrational party here) but as a Harry Arter style Mandela effect.
Earlier this week, Andrew highlighted an incidence where an experienced football writer (whose work I personally really enjoy) had suggested, ‘but it is at least an acknowledgement of responsibility, which is not something often heard from either Arteta or Arsenal.’ Again, we all come at things from our own angles, with our own biases but I found it an extraordinary observation.
I define Arteta by the total and utter opposite and struggle to understand how anyone could read or watch his pre and post-match press conferences and come to that conclusion. I think this goes back many years too, back in December 2020 when Arsenal were in miserable form and Arteta could very justifiably have been sacked, he was unrepentant about where the responsibility lay.
‘This is our reality right now and we have to face it by being brave, fighting and no one giving up. It’s not time to hide – it’s time to put your face and your body on the line. We have to take the bullets. We are not winning football matches and you have to put your chest there. Hit me, because you have the right to hit me because we are not winning.’
Or when Arsenal somewhat fluked a 2-1 home win against an on the beach Liverpool in July 2020. ‘You only have to look at the difference between the two teams – it’s enormous… The gap in many areas we can’t improve in two months but the gap between accountability, energy, commitment and fight between the teams is now equal. Before it wasn’t like this. I’m very proud of that.’
Part of this perception is, I think, probably borne from two specific incidents, both of which arose after games against Sunday’s opponents Newcastle. After the 1-0 defeat at St. James’ Park in November 2023 where the home side scored a controversial winning goal which took around six minutes to clear via VAR, Arteta was angry post-match and, in what I consider a pretty rare incident, centred an officiating decision as the reason for defeat.
How incidents live in the media ecosystem also depends on when they happen. Incidents from Saturday 12.30 and 3pm kickoffs or Sunday 1.30pm kickoffs rarely garner as much traction. But Sunday 4.30pm, Saturday 5.30pm and Monday 8pm are stand alone, prime time slots when more people are in front of their televisions. If something controversial or noteworthy happens in those games, more people are watching, it’s that simple.
Ange Postecoglou’s ‘it’s who we are mate’ comment after playing a suicidal high line against Chelsea with nine men has endured even more because it was a Monday evening fixture. Arteta’s post-match fury at the goal his side conceded that evening would likely have been mirrored by just about any top-flight manager in my view (possibly with the exception of Thomas Frank?)
For Arteta, I always considered that incident a bit of a one-off, usually he stretches to implied or passive aggressive condemnation of officials before switching his focus back to the ‘controllables’, but the Newcastle incident has endured in the public imagination. Then there was the much more mischievous editing of his response to a question after a League Cup defeat to Newcastle in January.
While the tabloids are not as influential as they once were in (often disingenuously) shaping the public discourse, their spirit very much lives on in the engagement hungry media ecosystem in which we now exist, boosted and egged on by multiple bad faith actors. The fact that Arteta was specifically asked a question about the match ball, or that he twice used the phrase, ‘we have to adapt’ was quite deliberately airbrushed.
It is also true that all of us often misinterpret who managers are talking to when they fulfil pre and post-match media duties. Sometimes messages are aimed at fans, sometimes they are aimed at players. With Arteta I think they are usually aimed at his players. Some outlets and some of the football ecosystem pretends not to understand this and plays dumb for engagement, some in the ecosystem genuinely lack the capacity to understand.
There is also a mismatch between someone like me, who reads or watches every press conference and absorbs every word and someone who is not a rabid Arsenal fan and does not do likewise (nor should they be expected to). I do think members of the media should do a little more in the way of research, even if it doesn’t extend to reading every single word a person has ever said and seek to test more casual narratives before repeating them.
I also admit that I am predisposed and sympathetic to Arteta’s messaging and that burnishes me with my own biases. But the reason I value his messaging is precisely because I think he takes responsibility, he challenges his players and himself, because it is clearly important to him that his players resist a blaming or victim culture. (I wrote about that in-depth with plenty of examples here). I don’t think he does that because he is a great bloke, I think he does it because he sees it as a path to creating a winning mentality.
I often see the assumption cast that he arrogantly refuses to buy a striker when his public utterances (which Andrew highlighted here) show that to not be the case. Clearly criticism is due for the failure to execute but Arteta could not have been clearer on what he thinks and what he wants.
I think I understand why people don’t warm to Arteta externally, he is not a warm and fuzzy character or someone adept at copy friendly one-liners in his media duties. I am also not especially interested in whether people who are not Arsenal fans like him or not. But one of the things I share in common with columnists from all walks of life is that I cannot let go of petty and unimportant grievances.
I at least want people to dislike him for the right reasons based on accurate information and I hate that that is important to me somehow. This season I have observed what I believe to be not just a mismatch in interpretation, I genuinely think that, a bit like Harry Arter and Jeremy Corbyn, people are assigning or attributing things to Arteta that he just does not say and my neurosis over it is my cross to bear that I am unburdening unto you.
