Arsenal America

Everything about my first trip to Highbury last week had an air of cosmic coincidence that seems too good not to share. It all started right before the New Year. After seeing a few ads for cheap airfare from New York to London, I took a look at the fixture list, trying to find the perfect day to set out on my trip to Mecca. Bolton Wanderers on March 20th — that would be the day I’d walk through the turnstiles at Highbury to see the Gunners live and in person for the very first time. I was set on it and booked my flight. Then I told my boss.

Within minutes I was back at the computer searching for a new fixture. It seems being out for a week in mid-March wasn’t going to fly. So I headed back to the drawing board and found Tuesday, February 10th — Southampton. Checking with my boss first this time, I changed the flight. Expecting a $75 charge or something, I was relieved to find that the change in price was a whopping $0.10. 10 cents! So I had a reasonably priced flight to England, landing at 7 o’clock on the morning of the match. Now, all I had to do was secure a ticket. Easier said than done, you’d think.

A few days later I read a posting on the Arsenal board on bigsoccer.com from someone with an English friend heading to New York. The friend was looking for a place to watch the first of the four January matches with ‘Boro. Naturally, I responded saying Nevada Smith’s was the place to be. The game came around on Saturday and I expected this English guy, Rob, to introduce himself to me. I found myself a place at the bar and watched the first half while sipping on an orange juice. At halftime, the guy sitting next to me asked me something about TV coverage of Arsenal in the States. I explained in the amount of detail only a truly obsessed fan can manage, “There are four games each weekend… pay-per-view… tape delay… mid-week replays on some local Fox Sports stations… some pubs get FSW Canada… there’s this thing called Setanta… terrible American announcers saying things like ‘into the mixer’… etc. etc.” I asked him if he was just over visiting. Turns out it was the guy. Rob. In town from London. He had never received my e-mail, so I clumsily tried to explain that I had sent a message telling him to come down to Nevada Smith’s. In any case, in the presence of a true Gooner, I switched to Boddington’s for the second half. Rob drank Budweiser, I believe. Ah, subtle irony. Five hours and several pints later, Rob and his girlfriend were off to JFK to catch their flight back to London, but not before we had enjoyed a meal at a local Mexican joint and made a plan to attend the Southampton match together. You see, tickets were going on general sale on Monday morning.

I woke up early on Monday morning to find an e-mail from Rob – two tickets purchased for the West Stand Lower. Holy sh**, I’m going to Highbury. Out of curiosity, I still headed to ticketmaster.co.uk to see if the tickets had already sold out in the few hours they had been on sale. To check I pretended I was going to buy one ticket. It went through, but here’s the kicker: “UK and Irish Customers Only.” I can’t even imagine what I would’ve done if I got that message while actually trying to purchase the tickets. I shudder to think…

Weeks passed and I psyched myself up for the game. On the Saturday prior against Wolves, Henry netted his 99th goal in the Prem. Would I witness history at Highbury? Maybe, but I knew I’d witness some history prior to the match, at least. Rob invited me down to his place to watch the three-hour (!) “Official History” DVD. From Woolwich Arsenal to Ian Wright, we watched (nearly) the whole thing before realizing we needed to get to the train so there would be time to get a few pints in. We did just that at The Gunners, then had a “mad cow” with cheese and onions, and headed through the gate. I was buzzing. I bought a program, but left my change at the window.

Seconds before kick off, we made it to our seats way up under the terrace, but with a great view of the entire pitch. The game started slowly and Arsenal never looked their best. The highlight of the first few minutes was the interplay between the away supporters and the Arsenal fans. The chant of “Stand Up If You Hate Hoddle” was started by the Soton faithful in reference to rumors their former manager, who burned them to go to Spurs, might be coming back. The next chant was started by the Gooners. Set to the tune of “Three Lions” (which I came to find out was the England theme song for Euro ‘96), it went something like “He’s coming home… He’s coming home… He’s coming… Hoddle’s coming home.” It was quite funny, even if I didn’t fully understand the reference until later in the week. (See the original lyrics here.)

Like I said Arsenal never quite hit their full pace, but Henry scored in the 30th minute and we all went nuts. 100 in the Prem. I saw it with my own eyes! The “Thierry Henry” chant went up around the ground for the next few minutes. After it died down, I turned to Rob and said “You’ll back me up, right?” Without waiting, I started right back into it… but I started from the beginning. “Went down the Lane, the other night…” Rob didn’t join in; Nobody joined in. I was the idiot American screaming all by himself. I had two options: give up and put my tail between my legs or forge on risking extreme embarrassment. “F*** it,” I thought. I continued, “…To tell the scum we got the new Ian Wright… they said to me, how can that be? I said to them, we’ve got Thierry Henry.” And with that, the section joined in. Vindication! And, holy god, I started a chant at Highbury. It went on for a minute. This happened. I still can’t believe it.

The second half was tense — Southampton never really threatened, but at 1-nil you’re never safe. Cue Henry who, with the final kick of the game, put in his 101st Premiership goal. We left the ground and got another pint before calling it a night. It was now 11 o’clock in England and I had slept for all of about 3 hours out of the last 36. Rob and I made a plan to meet up on Sunday for the Cup tie with Chelsea.

I couldn’t get a ticket (at least at a price I could afford) so it was off to Rob’s local in South London to watch with a group of fellow Gooners. We drank way too much Carling and flipped out when Reyes leveled the score. What a blast – the goal and our subsequent celebration. All in all, it was an unbelievable way to spend your first trip to Highbury and to England. (Thanks, Rob.)

Oh, and I just saw today on Arsenal.com that tickets to Bolton on the 20th of March have already sold out — without having made it to a general sale. Cosmic, indeed.