Arsenal America

My first Highbury experience was a March 1997 match against Nottingham Forest. I was able to take advantage of an airfare price war and I got over to London from Buffalo for $350. I had a place to stay with friends of a friend near the Archway tube station. I’d called the club earlier in the week but there were no tickets available. My English host was more persistent and went to the ticket office and came up with single seat tickets.

We took a bus to the stadium and got there with little time to spare. We were walking briskly in an attempt to get to our seats before kick off but I remember stopping in my tracks at the sight of Highbury and the sound of the crowd inside the stadium. I couldn’t believe a stadium was wedged in between rows of houses. There were no parking lots, nobody tailgating. It was nothing like a North American sporting event and I loved it. We hurried through the turnstiles of the East Stand, up the staircases and through the whitewashed halls. Before I knew it, the green grass and cheering crowd burst into my senses like a wave crashing over me. The broad smile on my face belied the feeling of excitement and disbelief that welled up within me. I was at HIGHBURY!

I settled into my seat in the second last row, after sliding past some of the most dour looking, miserable, middle-aged men I’d ever had the misfortune of encountering. The match started immediately and I was amazed at the quality of Arsenal’s passing and their utter dominance of Forest. I remember hearing the grumbling of the men around me eventually turn into angry shouts as Arsenal missed chance after chance. At the half Arsenal still hadn’t found a breakthrough. I found my friend and we talked about how I was disappointed that Ian Wright was out of the line up but watching DB10 certainly made up for it.

The second half saw Arsenal get down to business. Bergkamp scored a brace (one from the penalty spot) and the crowd was calmed.

There was a lanky player in the middle of the park I heard one of the middle-aged men talking about. He spoke to his friend about this new lad, Patrick Vieira. I had only been able to see Arsenal play on television a few times, and in the days before the internet it was virtually impossible to get more than the scores from the paper. I knew nothing of this #4. I remember the North Bank chanting “Vieira…Vieira…Vieira” every time he surged through the middle of the pitch with the ball glued to his feet. I couldn’t believe the way this young player dominated the game.

The match ended and as we made our way out of the stadium and through the narrow streets I remember looking back at Highbury. I saw the gleaming floodlights and the red seats. I purposely burnt that image into my memory in an attempt to keep this day a part of me forever.

I’ve been back to Highbury once since that day (3-0 vs West Ham in March 2001). I hope to get back once more before the move to Ashburton Grove.