Behind Enemy Lines

Whilst I was still at school, a change within my father’s job meant we were uprooted from London (where I’d lived all my life) and relocated permanently to the south coast! I was upset at losing my friends but absolutely devastated to be taken so far away from Highbury and my beloved Arsenal! Furthermore, his new role meant he would work most Saturdays and therefore even my weekly pilgrimage to Highbury was to be curtailed!

I soon made new friends and duly convinced them that they were Arsenal supporters! After all, the alternatives didn’t bear thinking about! My parents however, flatly refused us permission to hop on a train and go to Highbury, using the feeble excuse that at thirteen we were too young, despite the fact that I had the ability to get there with my eyes closed! After an inordinate amount of whinging (I know, who’d have thought a teenage boy could do that?), they offered a compromise that we could go and watch the local side Brighton & Hove Albion as they were newly promoted to the old 1^st Division (yes, I know I’m very old…don’t rub it in)! Anyway, it would just have to do until my dad could get a Saturday off and drive me to Highbury!

After a season and a half of watching the Albion, it suddenly dawned on me that my parents would have no idea whether I went across to Brighton or in fact up to London! All I needed was the extra revenue (which was provided by not eating at lunchtime and saving my school dinner money) and a little courage from my friends to break the rules! The rest was history and by the time I was given permission by my parents to travel up to Highbury (having shown I could be responsible), I’d already been doing so for a year and a half! I have been a regular at Highbury and the Emirates (and numerous away grounds) every season since!

Anyway, what’s the point of this trip down memory lane you ask? Well, it is merely that going to the Goldstone for that season and a half as an impetuous teen and with Brighton being the local team to where I now lived, meant that since they disappeared from the top flight in 1983, I have been desperate to see them draw the Arsenal in a cup competition! And 30 years on…it finally happened!

Ironically, nowadays I live much closer to London again (but still in Sussex…just), though I still work in Brighton with one or two vociferous Brighton fans! Our office also has a number of shared Brighton & Hove Albion memberships! I do not go to enough Arsenal away games these days to have acquired a ticket through the club, so to get a ticket for the fixture that I had waited so long for, I was going to have to utilise one of those Brighton memberships and sit with the home fans!

And this is where the story truly begins. I was on a hiding to nothing. Travelling to the game and sitting with my Brighton supporting mates amongst the home fans, I knew an Arsenal win was more imperative for me than even Arsene Wenger himself, simply to avoid the ridicule that would have come my way if the result went in the home side’s favour! There had been threats of a blue and white decorated desk and (heaven forbid) pictures of Craig Mackail-Smith on my monitor!

Once inside the ground, I was amazed that unlike at the Emirates, I didn’t have to queue for my “£7 pie and pint” (but equally amazed that I had to wait for it to be cooked [the pie not the pint] – were they not expecting a demand for this type of fare on a match day?)! We took our seats early and I took in the AmEx. Nice ground, funny sloped roofs at each end as one main stand is taller that the other (odd architectural choice)!

And then 15 minutes before kick-off, came the moment I had dreaded! The teams were announced…No Sagna, Vermaelen, Gibbs, Wilshere, Carzorla or Walcott! I was furious because I knew Brighton were half decent (did you learn nothing at Bradford Arsene?). Furthermore, I knew that should Brighton cause an upset of any type, I was not going to hear the end of it at work for years…and years...and years! In your infinite wisdom Arsene, you expose a lot of your humble subjects to potential ridicule that you remain totally and blissfully unaware of! My Brighton supporting mates’ faces lit up! They could prepare to watch me squirm. A shock was on!

 

 

And for 90 minutes squirm I did! I won’t give you a blow by blow account of the game because you will already be well aware of what happened. I was relieved when Giroud’s classy effort put us ahead but not surprised that it took Brighton just a matter of minutes to realise that George Weah’s cousin was on loan from Southampton, but these days calling himself Andre Santos (if you are young, Google “Ali Dai” or “George Weah’s cousin” and you’ll understand)! Now it’s not Andre’s fault that he is crap…it’s Arsene’s fault for buying and selecting him, but the fact remains he was a liability every time Brighton had the ball (and sometimes when we had it too)!

1-1 became 2-1 and then again within minutes 2-2 due to Santos wandering off to do some shopping in Hove rather than where he should have been, defending at left back in Falmer! Meanwhile, I confidently predicted to my peers that Arsene would bring on the big guns after 72 minutes (his substitutions are nothing if not predictable). Well, Arsene must have either been worried too or his watch was fast because he did it after 68 minutes! From that point we actually looked in control. My mates got to see the imperious Wilshere for a full 22 minutes as well as the classy Gibbs before Theo provided the winner by way of a fortuitous deflection.

Theo’s winner engendered such relief that I leapt to my feet only to suddenly realise I was in the middle of the home supporters, wherein I turned to my scowling compatriots and merely said “Bugger!” and tried desperately to suppress a broad grin!

In essence, I understand why Arsene rests individuals but please one or two, not five or six. We simply are not good enough throughout the entire squad to take gambles on this scale. On this occasion Arsene you got away with it and in terms of the levels of grief from my friends…so did I!

 

LoneWolf153