Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Gunnersaurus will no longer work from home.

In this, the year of grim tidings, each new piece of bad news comes as a crushing blow to our fragile collective psyche, but the revelation that Arsenal have released their lumbering dinosaur mascot after 27 years of loyal service – and as a cost-cutting measure, no less – is the final straw.

Can you put a price on Gunnersaurus, possibly the most baffling and beloved mascot in Premier League history? Is that what our deference to the bean counters of this world has come to? Whoever counts the beans at Arsenal knows an opportunity when they see one, given that they managed to convince most of the players to take a pay cut at the start of the pandemic before going on to make 55 members of staff redundant anyway.

Maybe, in that context, Gunnersaurus’ desolate trudge out of the Emirates – with The Athletic reporting that he’ll be back at some indeterminate point in the future – is a minor tragedy. Gunnersaurus may have gone to the great Jurassic Park in the Sky, but at least we can hold out hope that, like the dinosaur messiah, he’ll return.

The thing is, though, people love Gunnersaurus. It genuinely made fans happy, during the long slog of lockdown, to go on Gunnersaurus’ Twitter and see him ironing, pottering about in the garden and getting ready to watch Bargain Hunt. At this miserable nadir of the 21st century, where even small joys are precious luxuries, that has to be worth something. He may be anatomically imprecise and have no obvious thematic link to Arsenal Football Club, but even through the darkest of times he remained the people’s dinosaur, the reptilian prince who stole our hearts.

What’s more, Gunnersaurus has been the one constant in Arsenal’s modern history. He was there to greet Arsene Wenger’s arrival and he was there to shake Le Professeur’s hand on his departure, outlasting even the human embodiment of longevity.

He has personally witnessed Arsenal crowned Premier League champions on three occasions – that’s 23 per cent of all the club’s league titles – and over half of the FA Cup triumphs since the club’s foundation.

Long after it ended 1-0 to the meteor and all the other dinosaurs threw in the towel and went extinct, Gunnersaurus was still turning up at weddings, birthdays and community fetes across north London out of love and dedication.

Gunnersaurus has shaken hands with Dennis Bergkamp, cuddled Ian Wright and shared a subs’ bench with Thierry Henry. Gunnersaurus was there when the ‘Invincibles’ lifted the Premier League trophy; he was there to bid farewell to Highbury and to inaugurate the Emirates.

There is arguably no-one who knows Arsenal better than Gunnersaurus. Only the hardest of hearts could remain unmoved at the idea of him being binned off, even temporarily, for the sake of a few quid.

Created by a Junior Gunner in 1993, the surreal result of a contest to design the club’s mascot, Gunnersaurus represents an age of innocence which football long ago left behind.

A seven-foot dinosaur who somehow manages to look overjoyed when Arsenal win and comically downcast when they lose, he is an endearing oddity, a beautiful anachronism and, to break kayfabe for a moment, lovingly brought to life by the man inside the suit, Jerry Quy.

Gunnersaurus being put out to pasture is a sad reminder that football knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

Having brought so much joy over the last 27 years – not least amid the gloom of 2020 – he can rest soundly knowing that he’ll always be cherished by supporters. Go well, old friend, until we meet again.

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