You’re getting sacked in the morning

Although we arrived in London on the Friday before a Saturday match, pretty typical timeline, we had an unusually quiet time before the match. We had selected a hotel we’d never stayed in, the Montcalm East, located in Shoreditch. As with many recent trips, a hotel nicer than our normal budget would allow but that came into our price point for this trip. Very nice hotel. In my top 5.

After checking in, we relaxed a bit and then had lunch at Pizza Union. My husband had to call in for an Italian class, during which I made up for the sleep I failed to get on the plane. Afterward, we walked over to The Artillery Arms for a beer and dinner. The kitchen was closed by then, so it ended up being beer alone. Cute place, a Fuller pub, naturally. We selected snacks from an Aldi along the way back to the hotel to get through the night.

As much sleep as I got in the late afternoon and evening you’d think it would be a struggle to sleep at night. It was not. I slept like a baby. We awoke in the morning and had a delicious breakfast at A Pinch of Salt Cafe.

The match against Nottingham Forest was early, 12:30, so we headed to the Emirates soon thereafter. Spent a bit of time in Arsenal’s merch shop, The Armoury, just checking out the new stuff. There is always new stuff.

My seat was in the North Bank, really my favorite place to watch a match. You can see play developing and the crowd is almost always quite enthusiastic. This was true on Saturday as well. It’s a pleasure sitting near supporters who are–well–supportive. The North Bank also is prime positioning for offensive actions by Arsenal in the second half. Nothing more fun than having a goal scored right in front of you.

Arteta changed up the lineup in a somewhat surprising way, bringing new guy Eberechi Eze into the left wing and using Mikel Merino instead of Declan Rice. In midfield with Merino was Martin Odegaard, back in the lineup after his shoulder injury during the Leeds match, and other new guy, Martin Zubimendi. The other starters were a bit less surprising given our poor injury record this season.

I would think the changes Arteta made would not have been anticipated by a rival manager. However, in this case, the rival manager didn’t have much time to anticipate anything at all, having been hired only the week before the match. It was our old nemesis from Tottenham, Ange Postecoglou. Tottenham sacked him at the end of last season. Even though he did manage to win the Europa League, the rest of the season was pretty bad for Tottenham. Nottingham Forest only recently fired their manager, Nuno Espírito Santo. He’d been a good manager for Nottingham Forest but seemed to have been done in mostly by office politics. I’d rather face an Ange team than a Santo team, but was a bit nervous about the possibility of the dreaded new manager bounce that can occur sometimes.

Needn’t have worried because Arsenal were excellent right from the start. We dominated possession and looked really, really dangerous. And naturally, because Ange is (to us) Tottenham, we supporters were up for it also. Loud, loud, loud, and quite obnoxious.

Sadly, after losing Martin Odegaard to a shoulder injury in the first 10 minutes in the Leeds match, we lost him again early in this match after he fell awkwardly on the same shoulder. Ethan Nwaneri again came on and deputized him well.

Martin Zubimendi joined up with Arsenal over the summer from Spanish team Real Sociedad. Technically, his deal was agreed across all parties in March, but for financial reasons Real Sociedad wanted it to go through in their fiscal year starting in July. His move to Arsenal was kept relatively quiet although we believed he was likely coming into the team. We were excited—he looked like a great replacement for Thomas Partey, who was to be out of contract over the summer. But the longer the announcement was delayed, and with Arsenal’s surprising move to briefly pursue Partey at the end of last season, the more I worried Zubimendi might not come at all. But you know how it is. Once it’s finally done you rewrite history in your head. Of course he was always coming to Arsenal.

As I recall it, he was the first signing of a busy July for Arsenal. Shortly after Martin Zubimendi was signed, so was Christian Norgaard and Noni Madueke. And it seemed we would also bring in Viktor Gyokeres. Gyokeres was the most exciting signing for fans because he’s a striker, and we have sooooo needed one. Plus, he was lighting up the Portuguese league with goal after goal. When Gyokeres was announced as an Arsenal player, sales of shirts with his name on the back broke the existing record for shirt sales at Arsenal. So with all the other excitement, while I was happy Zubimendi signed, it went a bit under my radar as an important development.

In the pre season and first two matches, Martin Zubimendi was quietly excellent as a player. Mikel Arteta put him right into the lineup and he was solid defensively and reasonably creative offensively. Easy to take for granted. And I think we did just that.

In the match against Nottingham Forest, Martin Zubimendi’s excellence went loud. Very, very loud.

Despite Arsenal’s superiority, it took a while to deliver a goal. It finally came about 30 minutes in in the aftermath of a corner kick. Madueke put up a nice one, but it was headed by a Nottingham Forest defender. It was not a bad clearance–beyond the penalty area–except for one big problem. Apparently Martin Zubimendi is able to volley such a ball into the net from that distance. And he did exactly that. A gorgeous goal. Every time they showed it in the stadium—and they showed it on the giant stadium screens more times than usual—every fan watching it again said “Whoa!” in unison when he again struck that ball and it again flew into the net. It might have grazed a defender on the way in, but no way was any goalkeeper keeping that ball out.

1 – 0. Cue chants of “1 nil to the Arsenal.”

At halftime I stepped away for the typical bathroom break and an atypical wait in the concessions line for a cup of tea. Although you can’t bring beer into the stadium, you can bring tea. I heard the announcer say the teams were back on the field and I carried my newly-acquired tea back to my seat in the North bank.

It was a good thing I did because, just as Viktor Gyokeres scored a quick goal right after halftime in the Leeds match, in this match Eberechi Eze received a perfect through ball from Ricardo Califiori within minutes of the restart. He put up a perfect cross for Gyokeres who rammed it in the back of the net from close range. Like the Leeds match, a lot of people who didn’t make their way back into the stadium missed seeing that live. 2 – 0.

At this point, the chanting in the stadium became bifurcated.

Chant 1: the Victor Gyokeres chant:

He comes from Sweden, the girls are really nice
He dumped his girlfriend to play in red and white
He’s scoring goals with a cannon on his chest
His name is Victor, Victor Gyokeres

(I’ll spare you the gratuitous “De de de”s.)

Chant 2: abuse of Nottingham Forest’s new manager, Ange Postecoglou. No need to update the chant Arsenal fans created for Tottenham when he was the manager there, the lyrics still work. It’s too rude for me to repeat here and goes after not only the manager but also the team. I would suspect the Nottingham Forest players have ever felt quite so reviled at the Emirates. Just caught in the bad blood of an old relationship.

The third Arsenal goal came when Arsenal won a free kick for a foul. Arsenal worked it in and Leandro Trossard, who had come on as a sub, put up a nice looping cross toward the goal. Martin Zubimendi, who I don’t perceive as a particularly tall guy, met it with his head and into the back of the net.

With the requisite chants for Zubimendi completed by the Arsenal fans, they turned their attention to hapless manager Ange Postecoglou on his inaugural match with Nottingham Forest:

Sacked in the morning
You're getting sacked in the morning

Despite the fact that Zubimendi scored 2 goals and Viktor Gyokeres scored only 1, at the ending whistle the stadium DJ cued up Salt-n-Pepa’s Push it, the musical inspiration for the Gyokeres chant. We note that the DJ can only work with the materials he’s been given. A player is endowed with a chant by the supporters. It may be based on commercially-created music or some traditional chant or some new invention. Much like your family, you can’t chose your own chant. Zubimendi’s chant isn’t based on commercially-available music.

He’ll just have to be happy with being named man of the match. That, and our love and admiration.

Believing in Beauty.

A new statue for Arsène Wenger has been placed on the grounds of the Emirates since our last visit. After the match we wandered around trying to find it. You know my love for Arsène Wenger. It’s a bit out of the way and the grounds were so thronged with people, we struggled to find it. A nice steward pointed us in the right direction. Many people were lined up to take a picture with the statue and we waited patiently for our turn. Near the statue there were signs like the one above that surely reflected his philosophy. I recalled an article in which he was quoted in which he stated that he only facilitates “beauty in man.” I fell in love with Arsenal because of the beauty he so valued.

But that was at the end of the day and we should start at the beginning. We had breakfast again over near St. Katherine’s Dock, close to where The Big Half marathon was being run by thousands of people. After breakfast, we walked along the route where people were lined up to start and where some had already started and had doubled back to cross the Tower Bridge at around the 7-meter mark of the race. I am that annoying person who claps for every graduate at a graduation, so I am also the person who claps and whoops for runners who happen to be doing something I will not do. When I am giving (in my mind) motivating words to my kids, my family calls it “happy Mom talk.” When I am cheering at graduations and races, it’s “happy Mom cheering.”

I make no apologies. Except (mentally) to the people sitting near me. Sorry your ears hurt. Now start clapping for the graduates, you lazy, selfish beast.

Afterward, we took the Uber boat over toward the Eye and Big Ben just to enjoy the lovely day. It was shaping up to be a warm one.

In keeping with the theme of trying new things, I considered not having Sunday roast in London on this trip. That seemed over the top, so instead, I booked a different restaurant than I normally do, called The Marksman Public House. I found it by consulting an article. How does the article know? I have no idea. I ruled out some locations that seemed too close to Tottenham Hotspur stadium, although I was pretty sure they were not playing there on Sunday, and then focused on those not too far from the Emirates. The match was at 4:30, a little late to have Roast afterward, so we planned to go for lunch.

The Marksman turned out to be awesome. It had a more casual feel from the incumbent favorite roast place, the Princess of Shoreditch. The decor was light and airy, and people were laughing and relaxed. There were many big groups of people sitting near us, suggesting a popular family/friend gathering place. There was significantly less attention on food presentation. Importantly, there was plenty of attention on the taste of the food. We shared a crispy, perfectly seasoned, juicy whole chicken, a cloud-light Yorkshire pudding, deeply caramelized potatoes, and green beans and carrots with minted, crispy breadcrumbs. Perfect.

We both selected for dessert a thing called a brown butter tart. When it came, I was disappointed. It had sounded so glorious and looked so plain. Big lesson here. With the first bite I understood why no one bothered to make it look good. What would be the point? I’ve never tasted anything as delicious in my life.

We took the bus to the stadium and, because we were newbies to the new check-in procedure, went right in. Like all of the teams, Arsenal appear to be cracking down on the secondary market for ticket sales. In the past we would be sent a pdf of our tickets and would print it out to be scanned; this year, Arsenal require you to download their app and use the wallet feature of your phone for the ticket. A screen shot is not sufficient. As participants in the lottery, we would have been eligible to sell our tickets on Arsenal’s exchange, but we would not be permitted to transfer the ticket to other parties at will.

There is so little chance we will ever part with these precious tickets.

The check-in process went smoothly and we walked up a great many stairs to the novel location of our seats, high, high in the Clock End. I was shocked to realize that from our new seats I was not even able to see our old seats because there is a dip in the roof that conceals parts of the stadium. It had never occurred to me from our old location that most people in the stadium are unable to see all of the seats. We had a fine view of the field and the stadium was rocking when we got there. Literally. The chanting was deafening from the moment we walked through the turnstile until pretty much half time.

At the Clock End, you are very close to the opposition fans, and it became very clear what our role was to be: drown them out, counter their nonsense, and remind them they are guests, very unwelcome ones at that. It seemed the Man United fans were more organized than many who show their faces at the Emirates, but I’ve only once before sat this near the opposition. We had to endure their happiness when Man United scored the first goal, very much counter to play. We rubbed it in their faces when Arsenal scored our first goal about a minute later.

What to say about the match? In the stadium it felt like Arsenal had the upper hand and Manchester United’s only idea was to slow things down as much as possible and break our rhythm, hope for a counterattack. They executed their tedious plan well.

Arsenal had a call for a penalty that was overturned by VAR and Man United had a goal that was ruled offside by VAR. It looked like we were headed for a 1:1 draw well into the very substantial 8 minutes of stoppage time due to Man United’s time wasting and the time spent on VAR reviews.

The noise was more intermittent as the match wore on, but the fans got behind Man United’s substitution that brought Harry Maguire onto the field. Even the Arsenal fans–especially the Arsenal fans–were chanting his name. If you’re struggling to score a goal, there are not too many defenders a team would be more delighted to take a chance against. That is until Man United introduced Jonny Evans as a another substitute defender. I couldn’t believe he was still playing. In his day, he was probably one of the better defenders in the league. He played for Manchester United years ago and more recently played for Leicester City, who was relegated last year. So although nothing much was happening for Arsenal, you had to feel optimistic. And, like the sign said, you had to keep “Believing in Beauty.”

At least 5 minutes into the 8 minutes of added time, our captain Martin Ødegaard hit a hard shot that deflected off of a Man U defender for a corner kick. Saka put it into play and while Jonny Evans got distracted by Gabriel Magalhaes’ antics in front of the goal, the ball bounced off the face of our new boy, Declan Rice. He had a million years to take aim at the bouncing ball and tag it off Jonny Evan’s leg into the goal. The Emirates went insane. When Declan Rice ran to the corner flag to celebrate with the fans the fans in that corner rose in a wave from their seats to join him.

With the subs and celebrations, we had no idea how much time was left and we all stood and sang with great nervousness waiting for the final whistle.

Instead of the whistle, the ball came loose in Arsenal’s half and our sub, Fabio Viera (a far better choice than Jonny Evans or Harry Maguire), put a beautiful through ball exactly where our other sub, Gabriel Jesus, could run onto it, feint to draw the last Manchester United defender into a fruitless slide, and slot it calmly into the corner of the net.

Bedlam. Joy. Unbelievable relief.

And now we are hoping the match never ends.