As Mr Wenger was drifting off to sleep, he heard a far off thudding sound. Dismissing it as either his irritating neighbours or the sounds of the old heating system in his house he turned over and closed his eyes again. Once more he heard a thudding sound, but louder, closer. Mr Wenger sat up in bed, grumbling to himself. "If that's UEFA at the door again you can go away, I've told you a hundred times, I wasn't breaking any rules!" He yelled, shaking his fist at his bedroom door. Just then, his bedroom door flew open bringing with it a blast of freezing cold air. Mr Wenger started, then beggan to shiver.
He pulled his duvet around him and was about to get up and close the door when he heard an unearthly moaning. "Arsene Weeeeeenger." The ghostly voice groaned, with a slight Dutch accent. Mr Wenger shuddered but this time it was not because of the cold. A ghostly presence streamed in through the open door, it came to a stop in front of Mr Wenger's bed and pointed a ghostly finger at him. As he looked out from underneath his duvet, Mr Wenger realised that there was something very familiar in the ghost's high forehead, square jaw, serious expression and fluffy blonde hair. "D..D..Dennis?" he stuttered. He couldd not believe that one his club's greatest ever servants stood before him, years after he had bid farewell to the club. "SILENCE" Boomed the ghost. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past! I have come to show you the error of your ways." Before Mr Wenger could reply, the ghost clapped his ghostly hands together and suddenly they were transported out of the room and into a crowded Highbury stadium. Mr Wenger rubbed his eyes, he could hardly believe what he was seeing. There in front of him stood a group of young men he had not seen in years; Robert Pires, Freddie Ljungberg and best of all Thierry Henry. Mr Wenger remembered this Christmas well. Christmas 2003, a rousing three nil victory against Wolves, on the way to an unbeaten season and sure enough there was Thierry scoring the second of a brace of goals. "See Mr Wenger, Christmas wasn't always a nonsense and a humbug. There was a time when you enjoyed Christmas Mr Wenger." Dennis Bergkamp the ghost intoned. Mr Wenger felt confused he felt a sense of nostalgia for a time when things were simpler, when people listened and his team won trophies, but he also felt very annoyed at being dragged out of his bed. "One good Christmas, doesn't mean the whole thing is worth while." Mr Wenger grumbled. Ghost dennis tutted and shook his head. He clicked his ghosty fingers and took Mr Wenger to Christmas 2007, they saw the team being thwarted and frustrated a nil-nil draw against Portsmouth on a freezing day, and shortly after the festive period a freak injury to the team's little Dumpling, one of its brightest prospects Tomas Rosicky, a long, depressing injury that lasted until the next miserable festive period. "It was these kind of days that made you turn away from the joys of the Christmas period." Said ghost Dennis, as Mr Wenger looked on sadly. "But all is not lost. You will be visited by two more Christmas spirits this night, they will teach you a very important lesson Arsene." he declared portentously, as they arrived back in Mr Wenger's darkened house. As suddenly as he had appeared, ghost Dennis disappeared leaving Mr Wenger alone again.........
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