Right. Let me get this straight.

Arsenal lose to Bournemouth. At this stage of the season. With the title right there for the taking. And Mikel Arteta's big message to his squad is that they need to rediscover their "enjoyment" of the game.

Enjoyment.

In my day, if you lost a match you shouldn't have lost, you didn't need to rediscover your enjoyment. You needed to rediscover your self-respect. Your gaffer would make sure of that. There'd be running on Monday morning. Hills. Proper hills. Not some wellness session with a sports psychologist and a smoothie.

But here's what really tickled me. Arteta said tiredness is "not an excuse." Now, I've been around football for 40-odd years. I've managed knackered players. I've been a knackered manager. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that when a manager stands in front of cameras and says tiredness is NOT an excuse, it means tiredness is EXACTLY the problem. Every single time.

It's like when a chairman says the manager has his "full backing." You know what happens next. We all know what happens next.

That's the problem with modern football. Nobody can just come out and say it. Nobody can say, "Yeah, the lads are cooked. We've played 57 games, half the squad's been at international tournaments, and Saka's legs have been running on fumes since February." That would be honest. That would be real. But no. Instead we get this bizarre doublespeak where you deny the problem while simultaneously describing the problem in perfect detail.

"We cannot use it as an excuse" is just code for "it is entirely the reason but I'm not allowed to say that because then people will call me a moaner."

And then there's this "enjoyment" business. Don't get me started. You're six points clear at the top of the Premier League. You're in the mix for the biggest prize in English football. You're being paid more money per week than most people earn in a decade. And you need to be told to ENJOY yourself?

I managed Barrow in the Conference North in January. Wind coming sideways off the Irish Sea. Pitch that was 40% mud, 40% sand, and 20% pure spite. One of my lads played 90 minutes with a cracked rib because we didn't have a substitute who wasn't already injured. Nobody needed to be reminded to enjoy themselves. They were just glad to be alive at full time.

Look, I'm not daft. I know the modern game is relentless. The schedule is obscene. Players are asked to do more than ever. I get all that. But Arsenal have one of the deepest squads in the country. They've spent more money than some small nations generate in GDP. If your squad depth can't handle an April fixture list without losing to Bournemouth and looking like they'd rather be anywhere else on earth, then the problem isn't tiredness. The problem is something far more fundamental.

The problem is that this Arsenal side, for all its quality, still hasn't learned how to win ugly when the tank is empty. The great title-winning teams didn't need to be asked to find their enjoyment in April. They found their enjoyment in winning. In grinding. In being absolutely horrible to play against even when their legs were gone.

In my day, enjoyment was picking up three points and having a pint afterwards. Not a philosophical concept your manager needed to workshop with you in the dressing room.

Arteta's a good manager. Genuinely. But if he's standing there telling his players not to use tiredness as an excuse while simultaneously asking them to rediscover their love of football with five games to go in a title race, then I'd suggest the wheels aren't just wobbling. They're making a very concerning noise.

And Pep's lot are six points back with a game in hand.

Tick tock, Mikel. Tick tock.