I was bought up in Gosport to be an Arsenal fan by my dad and the double of 1971 at the age of 11 sealed my fate.
I had a deep passion for the Arsenal that has wained since 1986 when i moved to Plymouth and adopted my new local club who in the intervening 24 years have become my team. That was confirmed in the game at the Emirates when i felt that my Arsenal having moved from Highbury were not quite the same club that i followed home and away between 1976 and 1985.
The late 70's saw yours truly donning a donkey jacket, high DM boots (i preferred the black ones) and a scarf around my wrist. The train up from Portsmouth to Waterloo was an experience depending on which other London teams were playing in the capital that day. Waterloo station at 5.30 on a Saturday was a scary place to be. The underground ride to Arsenal station via Liecester Square wasn't too bad as fellow gunners became more obvious.
Memories include, coming out of the pub i used a 10 minute walk from the ground and getting into the North Bank at about 2.55 and pushing my way through hordes of yobs wearing claret and blue, at the age of 18 after 5 pints i was warmed up for the game but also had to concentrate on where i was going so it didn't register at first that West Ham were about to take the North Bank. I seem to remember in slow motion stumbling, seeing loads of boots and flared jeans from my prone position and managing to get up to see the Arsenal running away. I managed to shove my scarf into my jacket pocket and join in a rendition of I'm for ever blowing bubbles while making my way to the front and climbing onto the track around the pitch.
Away i was asked for the time by a scouser who had been looking at me after he got on a Lliverpool bound train at Runcorn and i politely told him. My reward was him telling half the carriage that i was a cockney (which i am not) and me being saved by a large Everton fan who said leave him alone he is on his own.
Arsenal scored in the last minute at Man City to win 1-0 on a Tuesday night, i had travelled up with no ticket and as the goal went in leapt to my feet which as i was in the main grandstand and nowhere near the notorious Kippax thought i would get away with. No chance i was chased outside and jumped into a black cab who refused to take me and told me to get out. With half a dozen City fans banging on the windows that wasn't going to happen so he took me to Piccadilly station and didn't charge me either, saved me he did.
Loads more where that came from but maybe another time.
I am 51 now and so glad that my own Argyle mad sons have grown up without any of that nonsense.
Mind you at the time it was scary but brilliant to get home to mum who would ask if i had had a good day.
Oh yeah, Wolves away was interesting, stood on the same bank as them with a thin blue line between us. Can't remember a thing about that game as i spent the whole day petrified.
I had a deep passion for the Arsenal that has wained since 1986 when i moved to Plymouth and adopted my new local club who in the intervening 24 years have become my team. That was confirmed in the game at the Emirates when i felt that my Arsenal having moved from Highbury were not quite the same club that i followed home and away between 1976 and 1985.
The late 70's saw yours truly donning a donkey jacket, high DM boots (i preferred the black ones) and a scarf around my wrist. The train up from Portsmouth to Waterloo was an experience depending on which other London teams were playing in the capital that day. Waterloo station at 5.30 on a Saturday was a scary place to be. The underground ride to Arsenal station via Liecester Square wasn't too bad as fellow gunners became more obvious.
Memories include, coming out of the pub i used a 10 minute walk from the ground and getting into the North Bank at about 2.55 and pushing my way through hordes of yobs wearing claret and blue, at the age of 18 after 5 pints i was warmed up for the game but also had to concentrate on where i was going so it didn't register at first that West Ham were about to take the North Bank. I seem to remember in slow motion stumbling, seeing loads of boots and flared jeans from my prone position and managing to get up to see the Arsenal running away. I managed to shove my scarf into my jacket pocket and join in a rendition of I'm for ever blowing bubbles while making my way to the front and climbing onto the track around the pitch.
Away i was asked for the time by a scouser who had been looking at me after he got on a Lliverpool bound train at Runcorn and i politely told him. My reward was him telling half the carriage that i was a cockney (which i am not) and me being saved by a large Everton fan who said leave him alone he is on his own.
Arsenal scored in the last minute at Man City to win 1-0 on a Tuesday night, i had travelled up with no ticket and as the goal went in leapt to my feet which as i was in the main grandstand and nowhere near the notorious Kippax thought i would get away with. No chance i was chased outside and jumped into a black cab who refused to take me and told me to get out. With half a dozen City fans banging on the windows that wasn't going to happen so he took me to Piccadilly station and didn't charge me either, saved me he did.
Loads more where that came from but maybe another time.
I am 51 now and so glad that my own Argyle mad sons have grown up without any of that nonsense.
Mind you at the time it was scary but brilliant to get home to mum who would ask if i had had a good day.
Oh yeah, Wolves away was interesting, stood on the same bank as them with a thin blue line between us. Can't remember a thing about that game as i spent the whole day petrified.