London Calling

Here we go again…

Villa (h).

Drove down for this one on the Friday and stayed over in Wycombe, where I had one of those weird evenings where everyone you bump into is an old friend. I’d decided to pop into town for a couple of beers and just couldn’t stop seeing people I knew. And bumping into that many people I suppose it was inevitable I’d end up at a party and get very little sleep!

Saturday morning I drove up to have lunch with George and leave the car there until after the game. 10 minutes on the train into Finsbury Park and we’re at the 12 Pins. Driving home after the game meant no booze for me, but it also meant I had no real urge to go to the bar so I didn’t have to push my way to the front!

I was back in the posh seats in the East Stand as Dr Dom had nicked my ticket and my brothers to take his daughter Meagan. Lovely little thing, when Dom lived up here and we went to away games together she thought we were actually playing every time we disappeared for an afternoon! Anyway, there had been a ‘family bug’ and she wasn’t quite over it so she wasn’t very lively when we met up. I don’t think the weather helped because it was lovely and warm in the sun but freezing out of it. Unfortunately there was a fair wind and lots of clouds so standing outside the pub at one point my jacket must have been on and off 10 times in 5 minutes.

Mac turned up at the pub in a bit of a foul mood. The box office appear to have lost his application for Juventus tickets so despite having flights and hotels and everything he now has no ticket. I sometimes wonder about the box office because if half the stories about them are true (and from personal experience I can believe them all) then they are a complete joke. And it may well be coincidence but I’m not the only one who thinks things changed when Edelman took over from the wonderful Ken Friar as MD.

Right, off to the ground and the posh seats next to the directors box. I don’t know if I mentioned it last time but… There is a low red wall around the director’s box. If you watch any long shot on highlights you can make it out. You can also make out there’s some kind of detail around the top of it. That detail is actually a row of horseshoe’s going all around. Well, the ground hasn’t done us too badly now, has it?

I was there early for a reason – it was Rocky day. I couldn’t hope to be eloquent enough to truly describe just how special he was but maybe one shirt can. On the day he died I was buying a new shirt anyway (if I remember they were selling the ‘going out’ home shirts cheap) and I broke the habit of a lifetime to have his name and number on the back. I’ve worn that shirt all over the country and it’s amazing the number of times fans of other clubs have patted me on the back and said something to the effect of ‘he was special’. Opposition fans. And they are all correct – David Rocastle was incredibly special both as a footballer and a man.

Amongst other things his family was presented with a specially made book by the club, which consisted of fans memories of Rocky. There was also a film that consisted of clips and stills of him. It was set to the sort of mid-Atlantic rock song that would normally have me throwing bricks at the radio but seemed so fitting this once. There were more than a few fans wiping the odd tear from their eyes and I’m not ashamed to admit I was one of them.

What a game to honour the guy as well. I honestly don’t think that Villa really played that badly at first but we’re on a roll at the moment and they were mere cannon fodder. At 3-0 down their fans were chanting ‘we only want one goal’ but they weren’t even going to get that. Henry and Adebayor looked like they’d been playing together for years and with Reyes and Eboue hitting the most exquisite through balls Villa were broken by half time. It was then that I noticed a banner in support of David O’Leary amongst their fans. Welcome home Dave!

Fortunately the sun got low enough to shine on me for the second half and I stopped shivering, and we were even treated to a cameo by van Persie, and a goal of the highest standard. I said at the West Ham game how you can see the press monitors from that seat and watching the replay on them it struck me that it was difficult to concentrate on his feet. It was only the third time I figured out what he had done because your eyes seem to get drawn to his ‘floppy’ arms. Wonder if it’s the same for defenders? One thing that’s certain is that goal came straight out of the CageFootball he played as a youngster.

Injuries to Fab and Eboue were the only concerns. Fab looked the worse but to be honest if needed I think Diaby could deputise in Turin since we’ve nothing to chase – potentially losing another right back did worry me though. As an aside to Eboue getting injured, there was an interesting little cameo. Hleb was warming up when Eboue got injured (the kind of proper warming up a player does when they know they will be on soon) but Henry seemed to know immediately that it was not good. He actually went over to the bench to talk to Arsene and when he was substituted a minute or two later he had a chat with Gilberto as he was handing the armband over which was obviously about Eboue. Less than a minute later Gilberto was talking to Wenger and then Eboue came off.

There had been a few announcements at the game that there was only a reduced service at Finsbury Park. I was driving back up north and George had stuff to do so we didn’t intend hanging around too long after the game anyway, but we met up with Dr Dom and Meagan for a while. It’s funny how much a 5-0 win can cheer up a sick child, because she was a lot happier than she had been. Mind you I don’t think the Arsenal teddy that Daddy had bought her did any harm!

So, to Finsbury Park. I don’t know what that announcement was about but everything was running normally in terms of trains. What wasn’t running normally was the station itself and that was down to the most stupid and ignorant policing. It seems that at every point they are working out how to make it as difficult as possible to use the station whilst the club implores us to use Highbury and Islington station for some reason. Finsbury Park is an old station and as such there are different ways around it. As we’ve been using it for years George and I tend to go the sensible way around it but everything was blocked off at the end by Police. Not at the beginning of passages, but at the other end! Unfortunately they appeared to have also taken some effort to ensure that only officers with single figure IQ’s were employed that day. Common sense was a distant stranger to them!

Well, finally with George still in tow and not in custody (I had to drag him away at one point. He had asked a copper something and after getting an answer said something like ‘don’t you think that’s a bit daft’. For absolutely no reason he then threatened to arrest George for obstruction if he didn’t go. This was as George was walking away and the two burly (of – fat) coppers were stood side-by-side blocking the corridor!) we got the train back to his place and I blatted the car up the A1 home. Didn’t get there in time for the start of Match of the Day but we were one of the later games so setting the VCR wrongly (yes – again) didn’t matter. And brandy. And bed.

Juventus (a).

Pub for me. Far too much travelling at the moment and I just couldn’t get to this one so it was a walk into town to watch it. Into The Goose and I was well settled by kick off, at a table with myself, three Newcastle and two Darlington fans. And for once I was nervous. In fact I was the least confident person at the table. There was only one way I was going to get through this game and that was alcohol – and lots of it. Flaming northerners think they can drink – well I was drinking so quickly that even the barmaid was getting tired. Beer, fag, beer, fag, beer, fag, beer – and that’s just during the warm up!

But what a performance…again. We’ve played Real and Juve twice each without conceding. Whilst there have obviously been times when we’ve been under attack during those games in six hours there was never a time when we looked in trouble or anything but the better team. I’ve read and heard countless comments about how Real aren’t what they were, how Juve played badly against us, blah blah blah. It’s cobblers. When we played Real away they were on a fantastic run (I don’t think they’d conceded at home since November) and people were starting to talk about them maybe catching Barca in the league. Juve are Italian champions and odds on to retain that title. These are not mugs, these are top European teams.

The other thing they have in common is that they were totally outplayed by Arsenal and were never given the chance to be great.

That’s important, the fact that we didn’t give them the chance to be the great teams they are.

But what’s more important is how we did it both times.

We did it by imposing our game on them and controlling what happened.

Come On You Red(currant)s!