An Arsenal season ticket-holder writes: As a long-time Arsenal fan, having had half a season ticket these past 10 years, Thierry Henry’s move to Barcelona is not a surprise. He has been going almost as long as Vieira was going – giving a discreet hissy fit, raising his aquiline nose, a oui and then a non and then a peut-etre at the end of every season for, oh God, since Pat Rice got his first pair of sun specs.

I admit when he arrived in 1999, I thought, “What a mistake, he is the last thing Arsenal needs”. He was out on the wing, fannying around, hands on hips like a working girl’s David Ginola. What Arsenal needed, and still need, is a proper centre-forward, bullet-headed preferably, cannonball shot extra, but a player who is always in the box, whenever crosses come over.

The arrival of Henry meant almost every player, whether on the wing or midfield, was doing virtually the same, excellent passing, good build-up play, putting over or placing dead clever through balls – to Mr Nobody.

But old Arsène Wenger was right and I was wrong. After a season or so, Henry got confidence and also, presumably, fresh orders. He started cutting in, going for goal, finishing off so well that he became Arsenal’s all-time top scorer. So well done.

But last season, he was hardly on the pitch, devoting himself to looking sultry and groovy on the bench or cool in his casuals in the stand. His most energetic displays were before kick-off, giving Theo Walcott such generous cuddles and passionate hugs the Child Protection Agency must have been sent the video.

Okay, so he was injured – hard luck – but I suspect Arsène was not exactly rushing to shove him on, even when he was ready. Arsenal’s season ended in the new year, when they were knocked out of anything worth winning, and went on for months. The wisdom is that the team is full of kids who have to mature. Henry would have provided an older, wiser head – in theory. In practice, Henry himself is a bit of wimp, disappears when the going gets rough, i.e. most seasons in Europe.

He has served Arsenal well, so thanks for everything, but come on, he’s 30 in August. Time to move on. Arsène, who is not just the tallest but the cleverest Prem manager, must have seen the signs. Perhaps we’ll now get the best of Adebayor, only 23, an underrated striker who can also create. He should flourish in Henry’s absence.

A Tottenham supporter writes: As a very, very long-time Spurs fan and season ticket-holder, I will be sad to see the back of Henry. He helped to give us a few stuffings, but he was an adornment in the Premier League, a player admired by all for his grace, skills, and class.

I cannot remember any opposition fans ever booing him, which is usually the fate of the best player in the other team. We all recognised his beauty. Purely on the ball, of course. He is not as pretty as Beckham, but few girls are.

In physique he was a ballet dancer rather than a bruiser. Funny how Arsenal, under Wenger, have gone for similar body types, long and thin, just like the manager himself, skittery things really, despite their height, whom Norman Hunter or Tommy Smith or Vinny Jones would have had for breakfast. Perhaps this is the real reason Arsenal faded last season, not their youth but their weedy frames. I will miss Henry’s clapping, encouraging les outres when they gave him a lousy ball, thinking, I’m the captain, Golden Boot, World Cup, must be kind to lesser mortals, so hands aloft, clap, clap.

The loss of Henry will mean the loss of another foreigner. That’s a shame. All fans have enjoyed goading Gooners for their totally foreign team. Week after week, there hasn’t been a Brit in sight. I’ve also been fascinated by Henry’s West Indian extraction, in this case the French West Indies. A few years ago, when in Guadeloupe, I dragged my dear wife to an island called La Desirade to find his parental home. Which I did. Still got it on my camcorder.

Then there is his name. That will be another loss. Have you noticed how so many Arsenal players, despite their foreignness, have English-type names struggling to get out? Such as Percy, Thomas, Freddy, Robin, Alex, Matthew, Gilbert. Then there was Patrick, or Paddy as some fans called, plus Robert and Dennis. Now it’s farewell Henry, a pure English name, out of Just William and Tudor Monarchs. A great loss to English football and English typesetters.