Morning.
A quick, early Friday blog for you. When, in yesterday’s blog, I posited a reason as to why Martin Zubimendi’s transfer might not be announced on Thursday, I never expected something as tragic as the death of a fellow player. Sadly, yesterday morning, news emerged that Liverpool forward Diogo Jota and his brother Andre had lost their lives in a car accident in Spain.
If Arsenal had planned an announcement (which I think is the case), they did the right thing by postponing it. Not just out of basic respect, but also because you can imagine Zubimendi himself wouldn’t have wanted to go through it with it yesterday. The club sending condolences one minute, then parading a new signing the next. Life moves on, of course, but sometimes you need to read the room. There was just no need to create any kind of association between Zubimendi and a tragedy like this by ploughing on with something that could easily be rescheduled.
And it is a tragedy. Two brothers, 28 and 26 respectively, that’s no age. Diogo Jota had three small kids and just got married a few days ago. Life, as we know, can be unbearably cruel at times, and while this is an accident that will be felt most deeply by his family and friends, and by Liverpool Football Club and their fans, it’s one that I think we as Arsenal fans can understand.
When I heard the news, I immediately thought of Jose Antonio Reyes, our former player, who died in similar circumstances in June 2019. It’s hard to believe that was six years ago already. We lost a hero in David Rocastle too young to his illness. We had a 17 year old youth player, Niccolo Galli, who died in a moped accident in Italy in 2001. There’s something quite profound, or visceral, when a footballer dies at an early age, in part because it is so rare (thankfully).
Bad things happen all the time, of course, but football is our world. If a boxer or a driver or another sportsperson passes away young, I can recognise what a terrible thing it is, but it won’t connect the same way. Jota scored goals against us, too many goals because he was a really good player, but he was – like or not (and I didn’t like it when he scored) – a part of our Arsenal experience. Not in our immediate circle, but he was in our orbit. On the edge of box, perhaps. And with that, on top of the previous experiences we’ve had, comes an ability to understand how we might feel if it were one of our own. How acute it feels to those who really feel it.
It seems trite to offer condolences or sympathy to family or friends or Liverpool fans, because they won’t see this. But isn’t that what we do in circumstances like this? Isn’t it what we should do? Our world is not shattered, we’re not going to have to live with the loss and the grief the way they will, but the very least we can do is recognise that’s something they’re going to have go through. Despite its ubiquity and inevitability in all of our lives, the conventions of death make us uncomfortable with the living. People deal with it in different ways, and that’s just human nature, but basic respect for a loss like this is the bare minimum, and if that’s not something you can do, silence is perfectly acceptable too.
May the brothers rest together in peace.
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As for Arsenal, Zubimendi, if it happens today, it happens today. You get a dose of perspective when things like this happen. We all know it’s done, we all know he’s going to be in red and white next season. If it’s tomorrow, if it’s next week, so be it. A bit of waiting never hurt anyone really.
Right, I’m gonna leave it there for this morning. There’s an Arsecast below in which Tim and I start with Diogo Jota, before a pivot to Arsenal discussion, transfers, and lots more. Enjoy.