I don’t care what anyone says about Nicklas Bendtner, I like him.
Not since Ian Ure and Gus Caesar donned the red of Arsenal and forgot to tie their laces have we had a player who has proven that it’s possible to make it to the top without being properly scouted and just scraping through. That, my friends, is sheer audacity.
Let’s face it, he’s pretty awful. With quality that doesn’t quite match his ego, he frequently turns the wrong way, looks as if he is wearing iron boots and uses the entire Clock End as target practice. As Carlton Palmer once said of him, “he plays all over the pitch, but that’s only because his first touch is so crap”.
In interviews he comes across as a world beater, assured that his hidden talent that one day will wreck havoc on the defences of the Premier League. It’s always a case of what he could do, not what he has done. No one sings the praises of the Dane more than the Dane himself.
That’s why I quite like him.
Anyone who can convince senior scouts at Arsenal that he’s world class by word alone earns the upmost respect for me. It almost gives me hope that one day I can follow in his iron footsteps.
He’s the footballing equivalent of Liam Gallagher. Doesn’t have the looks, doesn’t have the talent but has all the mouth.
So a tip of the hat to you sir, for keeping my dream alive.
