I wrote this nearly a year ago, after going to the biggest Arsenal game of the season and seeing us roundly defeated, with barely a whimper as we lost. Tonight sees Arsenal face Barcelona in the biggest game for us so far this season, and I’ve been of thinking of nothing else all day. I can’t wait to get there, make some serious noise and see the two best footballing clubs in Europe go head-to-head. I just hope that I don’t have to write something similar again tonight.
I had one of the most stereotypically male dreams last night: I was captain of Arsenal, and scored the winning goal in a match at the Emirates stadium, before proceeding to celebrate with all the fans and throw my shirt into the crowd. The colours, sounds and physical sensations were incredibly vivid, much more so than my usual nighttime meanderings. One hell of a dream.
Also, I’ve started noticing that I dream more often and more vividly when I sleep on my side, rather than my back. I usually sleep in the “soldier” position, but have found myself falling asleep on my side recently. Maybe the blood is rushing to one side of the brain, the creative lobes or something, and that’s creating these dreams?
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I’d say that this is my favourite ever Arsenal goal. Not because of the quality of it, nor the technical skill involved in it, but because of its meaning.
This was the last goal we scored in the 1997-1998 season, in which we won the Premier League and FA Cup, and I remember it vividly. I was watching it on TV, and we only needed a draw to win the title. We absolutely spanked Everton, 4-0, and this was the last goal.
For me, it signified a changing of the guard. The goalscorer, Tony Adams, was pretty much Mr Arsenal. He was the captain, and he signified everything about the club. His partner in crime in the middle of defence, Steve Bould, was the man who played him through on goal. They were both veterans by this stage, having given decades of service to the club, and this was the beginning of the end for them both.
A new manager had taken over a year or two earlier, and he was beginning to mould the team into his own vision. Adams and Bould wouldn’t last much longer, but Arsenal would carry on, and in fact improve.
I remember crying my eyes out after this goal went in, as it was the first time since I’d started supporting Arsenal that we’d won the league, that we’d proven that we were the best in the land. And for our captain, our hero to score the final goal, the icing on the cake? Well, that was just too much to ask for.
This goal was scored on 3rd May 1998, nearly 12 years ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday. Ask me something that happened last week, and I’d have no idea. This? I’ll remember it as long as I live.

The Arsenal game yesterday was one of the few fixtures across the land which wasn’t postponed, but it was still bastard cold. It hadn’t snowed in the morning, but as soon as I came out of the Tube station a few flakes started coming down.
It carried on in this vein for the first half, but pretty much bang on the start of the second half the snow started falling really heavily. It wasn’t exactly blizzard conditions, but visibility was getting a bit crap.
My camera couldn’t really pick up the snow too well, but this photo’s a pretty good example of just how much snow was falling.

Looking down from above

I've never sat so close to the screen!

The girlfriend and ardenashley
On Wednesday evening I went to the Arsenal game, which by itself is nothing odd, but this time I did so in the company of a pair of lovely ladies: the girlfriend, and Ashley. The girlfriend has been before a couple of times, but I think this was Ashley’s first experience of a British football match.
We didn’t sit anywhere near my usual seat, but were instead way up in the Gods in one of the corners. It’s a hell of a view, and it’s very different from my usual perspective. You can really see the tactics at play, and get a better feel for how the game’s flowing.
Having said that, I love where I sit normally, because the atmosphere is miles better in the lower tier than the upper (although Wednesday was pretty loud, admittedly). And I can see the whole pitch perfectly well, because I’m a few rows back from the immediate front.
At one point, Ashley said that she really enjoyed the atmosphere, all the singing and passion. It’s very different from American sports, apparently, particularly our aptitude and appetite for swearing at the tops of our voices…

Action from the football on Saturday. I sit in row 17, pretty damn close to the pitch.
I usually don’t bother taking many photos at matches, but we had a bit of a lull in the game for a few minutes, and I snapped a couple of quick shots. My camera’s zoom isn’t the best, so I tend to crop from a wider, non-zoomed image, as here. That’s why it ends up a bit out of focus sometimes.



