At the end, Spurs went over to thank their fan. . .

. . . for by the time the whistle blew, there was approximately one Tottenham fan remaining in the stands. 

What. A. Day.

We left the Somerset house and made our way over to the Covent Garden tube station. We had a bit of time so we walked through Covent Garden, enjoying the sun and the market. Not much was going on by this time, it was far too early, but it was still fun to look at the shops and restaurants and market. 

Normally, we take the Piccadilly line all the way to the Arsenal stop. The other option, sometimes, is Holloway Road, which allows you to enter the stadium complex from the opposite side. We always think of the Arsenal Tube stop as part of the required game day experience, but in reality, the Holloway Road stop is often closed on match days and not really an option. It was an option yesterday, maybe because we arrived with more than 90 minutes to spare. There were plenty of people who had the same idea. 

We used part of our time to stop into the Armoury and look at the merch. In the interim since our last visit I had decided that the pink jersey was not for me; rather, the black one was. However, the lingering Pandemic/Russia invasion supply chain crisis had a few things to say about that; there were actually no jerseys available in any color but red, anywhere near my size. Probably for the best. We departed merch-less.

We left the shop and wandered over to Highbury, which is just a few blocks away. The old Arsenal stadium has been turned into townhomes and the pitch is a park in the middle. The entrances were well guarded on Saturday. There have been times when we were able to sneak in, but that was not going to happen without a fight this time.

We took a few pictures and went over to Gillespie Road to pick up some barbecue for lunch. Then we went back and circled the stadium, picking up as much good luck as possible. By the time we went inside, I had chased down Gunnersaurus, the ridiculous Arsenal mascot, and got a photo bomb-like picture with “him,” posed with Statue Tony Adams, rubbed Statue Thierry Henry’s head, and touched Statue Dennis Bergkamp’s right knee before entering the stadium. 

The fans were up for the match; it was a party atmosphere, even more than what we experienced for the past few matches. I suppose this was not surprising considering we were playing our arch rivals, Tottenham. I’ve never been to a match against Tottenham. It happens to be the favorite match of the person who shares the season tickets that allows us to attend. When we were here for the last set of matches, we asked him why he wasn’t attending the Tottenham game this year. He admitted that we had his daughter to thank. She was getting married in Greece right at about kickoff. He told us it was a hard match to miss; whatever the atmosphere was normally like, for the North London Derby, it was 20% more.

I’d say that was about so.

There have been a few beer-related changes at the Emirates recently. One of the changes: Arsenal no longer has a contract with Carlsberg for beer. Instead, it’s with the much preferred Camden Town brewery. Second: there is a beer-only concession line to more quickly serve the fans who want only that. (Many.) And finally, the beer is served in “London is Red” themed reusable glasses. Signs all over the Emirates, including in the restrooms, remind us that these cups can be reused up to 100 times if deposited in the correct bins.

We learned this week from this article that the Emirates has the Premier League’s most expensive beer. We didn’t think twice about it and had the Camden Hells Lager in the upper concourse while watching fans arrive across the Ken Friar bridge and listening to a live brass band of fans, with the other fans joining in to sing. There were so many people crammed into the area I could only reliably see the top of the tuba. But it was gloriously loud.

At last we piled into Block 98, for the newly obligatory and much-loved singing of “North London Forever” and kickoff. Although Tottenham is near the top of the league, Arsenal looked great from the time the whistle blew. Dynamic, tricky, beautiful and fast. Meanwhile, Tottenham had parked a big bus in front of its goal, waiting for a counterattack. They did get a few balls off to a waiting Tottenham player and there were some nervy moments, but the first goal was to the Arsenal. Thomas Partey took a beautiful shot from distance. I’ve seen him take a lot shots far from the goal before, but never have I see him take a shot from distance that I knew was going in from the moment he struck it. It curved perfectly to the top right corner where Hugo Loris, Spur’s keeper, was never going to save it. “One nil to the Arsenal” was ringing out all over the stadium.

Before the half was over, Spurs managed to move the ball into the box and our Gabriel fouled Spur’s newly-acquired player, Richarlison. I was so sure Harry Kane’s penalty kick was going in that I considered making better use of my time by visiting the ladies’ room. However, there were so few women in the stands, I had no doubt I would be the first one in after half time. I visited in nearly complete privacy only a bit later with things level at 1 apiece. 

Arsenal continued dominating after half time and Jesus scored a scrappy, ugly goal that nonetheless put us at 2-1, when Loris spilled a shot from Saka. Shortly after that, Spur’s Emerson Royal put in a bad foul on our Gabi Martinelli. Referee Anthony Taylor took his time walking over to the site of the crime, and when he arrived, reached for his back pocket. The red card he produced stood up to VAR scrutiny, and Tottenham was down to 10 players for the remaining 30 minutes. Now I know Tottenham is probably capable of producing a moment to make us sweat and you probably know that, too, but apparently no one ever told Tottenham’s manager, Antonio Conte. He pretty much capitulated by replacing 4 starting players. Only Harry Kane remained among players likely to score. And yes, he probably could still have done some damage. 

Except he did not.

Instead, our Granit Xhaka was fed a ball inside the box and he put up a beauty of a shot away from anywhere Loris was going to be able to get. 3-1 with 20 minutes to go and very little to worry about. In the stadium we enjoyed the last few minutes with songs, which if I am being honest were more focused on taunting Tottenham than celebrating our win. We sang “You’ll always be shit” to the team that has finished above us for at least the past five years. The Tottenham section became a ghost town as their fans dribbled out of the stadium.

We remain at the top of the league.

After hanging around cheering our boys, we spilled out of the stadium into the beautiful Fall day and marched with our compatriots, singing and chanting, to Holloway Road. My husband and I got on a bus and headed toward Hampstead Heath, the beautiful, big park not far from Islington. 

We enjoyed walking past ponds and through fields and groves of trees, and taking in the famous, beautiful sight of the city from the highest point. 

On our way to the tube station on the other side of the park we passed a lovely pub with outdoor seating called The Garden Gate, where we made an impromptu visit for beer and dinner while enjoying being outside. A lovely ending to a successful North London Derby.

My first, but hopefully not my only.

In the airport this morning I read an article on ESPN.com that provided updated statistics from FiveThirtyEight about the chances of any one team winning the Premier League. According to them, Arsenal’s chances to win the Premier League are only 10%. Manchester City, last year’s winner and, let’s face it, the winner for at least half of the last 10 years is credited with a 71% chance.

These are not the kind of statistics that make you feel confident of a big, happy ending to come. And, statistics or no, I can see with my own eyes that we have a ways to go to catch a team as good as Manchester City. Except for a couple of tied matches, they are destroying everything in their path.

However, that hasn’t stopped me from signing on for the last match of the season. No matter how unlikely the chances, if we get the trophy on the final day, I will be there.

Slodgey victory over Villains

Arsenal played Aston Villa Wednesday evening. Funnily (to me), they are referred to as “Villains.” Aston Villa was the team Arsenal played on the last day of the the 2016 season that we were lucky enough to attend. They had already been relegated by the time of the match, and what most of that team had to play for was the opportunity to be picked up by an alternate team remaining in the Premier League. Although Aston Villa put up an early fight in that match, Arsenal beat them handily in the end. That happened to be the last time Mikel Arteta (our current manager) played in before he retired. He was instrumental in the last goal scored, although it ultimately when down as an own goal.

Aston Villa won promotion back to the Premier League a few seasons ago. Although they sat in relegation territory after the first 4 matches this year, they had played some relatively tough teams and came away with 1 tie and 3 very narrow losses. Although they seem to be struggling to score goals, they have equally been doing a good job of keeping goals out of their own net.

We met a fellow Arsenal fan friend for dinner before the match and walked to the stadium afterward. Fun to walk among all those fans. Looking at the fellow walkers, it was abundantly clear that the 2022 merchandise is very, very popular. At first I was not a very big fan of the home jersey (it has a collar, which seems strange, a bit nerdish and not fearsome). It’s been growing on me. And the 3rd, pink jersey…..when I first saw it I was all “no way, what were they thinking?” And after two matches played in it, and seeing many local fans in it, I am all “where can I buy this?” 

 I do know exactly where I can buy it. However, Security was super tight Wednesday and I was lucky to be in my seat in time for kickoff. Some other time. I see that Arsenal have started touting a new green and yellow warmup top this week. It’s pretty sweet. Who knows what they will convince me of by the time I’m back?

Aston Villa came in and did what a team like that should strategically do: slow things down, destroy rhythm, and be very, very physical. It was very similar to the last match on Saturday against Fulham, and quite successful. 

That does not, however, make it easy to watch. I was hoping for a match that would make me feel quickly secure and then enjoy a bunch of pretty goals. Instead we worked hard to get the first goal about 30 minutes in. Gabriel Jesus scored a scrappy goal following a rebounded shot by Granit Xhaka. And then, we struggled to make anything else happen. The refereeing was universally terrible, which made the physicality of the match concerning for the future. Arsenal already have injury trouble among defensive midfielders.

Into the second half, the Villains managed a goal on a corner kick. The kicker, Douglas Luiz, put it in the net himself, a rare phenomena, aided by what looked like interference by a teammate on our keeper, Aaron Ramsdale. The referee did not see it that way, nor did VAR. Fortunately, it ended up not being a talking point at all because Arsenal managed to squeak in a second goal about 10 minutes later. Gabriel Martinelli, who had a very good match, put up a tricky, high shot that the Aston Villa keeper couldn’t handle.

The last minutes of the match were as nervy as could be. I was a wreck.

Although I felt happy with the outcome by Thursday morning, at the final whistle on Wednesday night all I felt was relief.

The atmosphere in the stadium was again great. Despite being nervous as hell, it was so good to be among a truly supportive crowd.

Arsenal now face a run of tough matches, many of them away from home. We didn’t have any luck on the transfer deadline day bringing in defensive midfielders. We tried for–of all people–the very Douglas Luiz who scored that corner kick. (If you can’t beat ’em?) Aston Villa was not interested in selling.

Today, Aston Villa applied a very similar strategy for Man City as for Arsenal and managed to come away with a 1-1 tie. In addition to being useful for Aston Villa, the tie was useful for Arsenal, as Man City is currently in second place after 6 matches.

Here’s hoping Arsenal can win pretty again. But mostly, here’s hoping we can keep winning.

So much optimism, it’s confusing

We left the hotel, me in my 2019 Arsenal jersey and my husband in an Arsenal jacket. The Tube station is more or less under our hotel and we saw one other fan enter the train in his Arsenal shirt, a small boy. We changed trains at Kings Cross St. Pancras to the Piccadilly line and were joined by considerably more Arsenal jerseys, including a lot of the black Away jersey and many of this year’s pink Away jersey. By the time we stopped a few times to pick up more people, the majority of people on the train were Arsenal fans. The train let us out at Arsenal station, only the few neutrals continuing onward on the train. We were playing Fulham, also in London, and there were a few Fulham fans mixed in with our crowd.

In all the time I’ve been coming to matches, I’ve never seen the fans quite so jacked up. They were singing for all they were worth along the Ken Friar bridge and into the stadium. I went to the seats to watch the warmup and my husband went to find a beer.

We were both in our seats at the singing of North London Forever (really called The Angel), the song written by a local musician/fan that commenced being used at the stadium at the end of last season. That was pretty special and I felt the lump in my throat. Once the match started, the stadium was electric.

Normally, I am very tuned into the details of the match but I couldn’t find my focus. There was so much chanting and cheering, none of it very coordinated. A third of the stadium was singing one song, a third singing something else, and a final third singing something else entirely. I started to realize that I had only one purpose—to sing and support my team and will it, with thousands of others, to a win.

It registered with me that we weren’t having our best match. Odegaard was playing well, but things were a bit sloppy from everyone else. Other than that, there were only five moments that stood out in my mind.

  1. Jesus getting drawn in on some Fulham bad behavior and getting a yellow card before the end of the first half. Great animosity toward the referee. Seeing the guy in front of us in a wheelchair doing the international hand sign of—let’s call it—self love, and hearing the toddler next to us pipe up in his tiny voice, while holding his stuffed bear—“you DON’T know WHAT you’re doing! You DON’T know WHAT you’re doing!”
  2. Mitrovic getting behind the last two Arsenal defenders where they had no chance of catching up to get the ball. One of them was going to have to bring him down, risking a red card and maybe a penalty if it didn’t happen soon enough. And neither of them did. Instead, Mitrovic swung his mighty leg back to take a mighty shot that would produce a mighty goal….and then fell down as if God herself had laid a banana peel in his path.
  3. Our Gabriel having the ball at his feet a moment too long and Mitrovic picking his pocket. God, fresh out of banana peels, shrugging while he scored a big goal. The Fulham fans going berserk with joy. And we Arsenal fans doubling down on singing and cheering to get through this moment. 0-1.
  4. Odegaard scoring a deflected shot to bring the score to 1-1. I never took my eyes off the match, but where the ball came from, I have no memory.
  5. Willing the last goal from a corner kick near the end of the 90 minutes, from the foot of Gabriel. It wasn’t pretty but it was in the net. Waiting interminably for a ruling on a possible handball. Then celebrating like mad, as you do when you looked to be losing or tying, and ended up winning.

We hung around after the final whistle soaking up the joy, then walked back over to Arsenal station. The entire train was filled with Arsenal jerseys and fans, until stop by stop, the proportion of fans to regular people changed completely. Finally, my husband and I were the only fans left in the train car.

I’m the luckiest girl in the world

We went back to our neighborhood before the match and had dinner at Bodeans, an establishment we walked by several times in our jaunts around the neighborhood. I had the Famous Burnt Ends (you could choose wet or dry; I had wet, which means with sauce) and my husband had the pulled pork sandwich. The Burnt Ends were marvelous. For dessert I had homemade honeycomb ice cream and my husband had apple crumble. I can’t speak for the apple crumble, but the honeycomb ice cream was amazing. The honeycomb in the ice cream was crispy and gave off just a hint of honey. Delicious.

It was time to head to the match. And all I could think, all the way there, was this: “I am the luckiest girl in the world.” Yeah, it hasn’t been the greatest season (you could say it’s been lousy) and I haven’t been able to attend as many matches this year as last year, but every time I get on the Piccadilly line to go to the Emirates, I have a feeling of complete excitement. It builds and builds as we go from the Arsenal stop along Gillespie Avenue, up Drayton Park, up the stairs, and across the Ken Friar Bridge. We feel it through the turnstile and as we approach our seats, watching the warmup. Anything can happen that day, and everyone there knows it. I’ve been able to know it multiple times this year again.

20170405_191603There was supposed to be a big protest in advance of the West Ham match by the Wenger Out crowd. They were planning to stay out of the stadium for the first 13 minutes of the match, one minute for each year we haven’t had a Premier League trophy. I have no idea if they did it or not. The stadium was packed as of kickoff, and there was no notable change at 13 minutes. The crowd was in fine voice throughout. On my right, in the seats that contain new people each time, was an American who required much explanation of what was happening in the match, which his also-American associate delivered with reasonable accuracy and far less impatience than I could have mustered.

West Ham has also had a rough patch of late so the match could easily had been quite the Bumble Bowl. With the exception of a few shaky moments early in the match, Arsenal dominated this one. Our goalkeeper this day was Emi Martinez, our backup goalkeeper’s backup. (Arseblog had noted before the match that at least he is goalkeeper sized.) He had a fine match and made a few key saves. Laurent Koscielny was not back in the lineup after his injury before halftime during Sunday’s match, but Gabriel had a decent match in his place. Andy Carroll, the meaty-headed West Ham forward who has had much joy against us in the past couldn’t do much of anything against our guys.

20170405_192803(0)The refereeing in this match was far worse than in the Man City match (itself pretty poor). It boggles the mind that Martin Atkinson continues to get Arsenal matches. Three obvious penalty calls waved away. Meanwhile, he didn’t see much contact from Arsenal on West Ham players that he failed to judge a foul.

Overall, Arsenal’s passing was better, and by the time the second half was underway we were looking more and more dangerous. The Arsenal fans had started an epic rendition of the previously-mysterious “Red Army” chant that carried us though our first goal via a shot from Mesut Ozil where it seemed Alexis Sanchez proved enough distraction for the keeper to let a relatively tame shot in. Even the American next to me, who recently had seemed more interested in his phone, celebrated. The fans began chanting the famous One Nil to the Arsenal that was established many years ago when Arsenal was famous for grinding out 1-0 victories.

The next goal was a quintessentially Arsenal goal that included fabulous movement, an Alexis Sanchez back flick to Ozil, and a killer pass to Theo who slotted it home. And the third came in the form of a nice dribble and pass from Alex-Oxlade Chamberlain to Olivier Giroud, who made a curling, long-range shot.

The fans made some quick alterations to the One Nil to the Arsenal chant: “Three Nil to the Arsenal,” we sang with one voice.

The final whistle blew and my husband and I ran down the stairs, out of the Emirates, over the Ken Friar Bridge, down Drayton Park and  Gillespie Avenue, and through the Arsenal tube station, the entrance to which had been constrained to funnel the crowds toward the trains arriving to whisk us away.

20170405_165842A West Ham fan had managed to make his way onto the train with us and he said loudly that Arsenal was no longer Arsenal, we used to be a good team but no more. He protested that he was not just being an asshole, just stating facts. He acknowledged that he might be making people mad.

I didn’t feel mad (although I internally disagreed with his assessment that he was not an asshole.) What I felt was that Arsenal is my team, bad and good. Arsene Wenger is my manager, bad and good. I couldn’t change those things if I wanted to.

But I don’t want to.