There hasn’t been a scream like it since I hit my thumb during the last ever DIY job I ever did. The hammer is on display in a cabinet in the front parlour; the picture I took of my squashed thumb hangs, framed, in the bathroom next to the medical cupboard.
That famous painting 'The Scream' by Edvard Munch came into my head and every time I think of that picture, from now on, I shall think of Lacazette.
Boy, did they make fun of him on Match of The Day, and rightly so.
Lineker and his chums introduced the 'screamometer', seeing as how these player screams have become a prominent feature of games these days in silent stadiums. Some of them undoubtedly influence referees. This one must have had the Health Minister reaching for his ear plugs.
The Lacazette scream was, of course, accompanied by much rolling and leg clutching. As a general rule I once read that if a player lies still and silent it’s a fair bet he is actually injured.
If he rolls around like my old Scottie used to roll around in goose poo down the canal, then there is no injury. A twitch or two is acceptable but when someone like the indestructible Ben Mee goes down and lies inert, you know it’s serious.
Lineker and co were merciless in their mirth, mirthiless I suppose, and at the end, paid tribute to this Arsenal thespian, an Oscar heading his way, by themselves screaming and rolling as the programme ended. We can only hope that Lacazette saw it.
Norwegian Munch always said that he got the inspiration for the painting when he was walking by the river one day at sunset and the light was a blood red. He said he felt an infinite scream passing through nature.
His sister, by the way, had been committed to a lunatic asylum. He must himself, therefore, have been feeling a bit out of sorts. He did actually say that he felt tired and ill. All this was in 1892 or thereabouts.
The Lacazette scream was in 2021. How I would love Munch to have painted our Arsenal hero rolling
around, his scream echoing around the moors, the Singing Ringing Tree, and Burnley rooftops. As screams go it was a right gud’n, as my granny used to say.
A psychiatrist wrote that The Scream was symptomatic of ‘deep depersonalisation disorder, distortion of one’s self.’ Perhaps someone should tell Monsieur Alexandre.
Apart from all that, what a second half it was. Drama, incident, VAR, red card, red card rescinded, penalty award, award overturned. And an equalising goal so freakish it was up there with the Traore own goal from the days of yesteryear when we beat Liverpool.
Arteta and Arsenal fans were truly miffed. Good.
And a final thought. How will Lacazette react when he sees the vaccination needle?
If only the nurse might say ‘Just a little prick, sir.’