Highbury’s Last Hurrah
665 comments May 11th, 2006
What a day. Highbury’s last, but surely one of it’s greatest. One of my best days too, which is why I’ve recorded it all right here:
1153 Got to the ground, went into the club shop and purchased our yellow away kit, having discovered we’ll be wearing it in Paris. Immediately went and had “Paris 06” printed on the back. I enjoyed the sheer frivolity of my spending for approximately five minutes, before realising I’m a student who can’t really afford to do things like that.
1232 Having spent about 20 minutes asking every programme vendor when he would be restocked, I wondered back into the club shop where a member of staff said he would give me a programme if I gave him my watch. He claimed to have a “watch fetish“. I told him to “watch” himself. Wanker.
1234 In the club shop, they have television screens. On those television screens, they show Sky Sports News. On Sky Sports News, they had a story claiming that up to ten spurs players were suffering with food poisoning, and their fixture with West Ham was now in doubt. The man in front of me amusingly quipped that Spurs didn’t have any stomach problems, but considering the day’s fixture, were almost certainly shitting themselves.
1300 There was supposed to be an official announcement from the Premier League at this point. There wasn’t. I had pretended to look at things in the club shop up till now, instead just watching Sky Sports. At this point, I left.
1313 My brother rang from Alton Towers to say that Spurs were going ahead with the game. Brilliant.
1333 I finally got hold of a match programme. I’ve never opened it. I would’ve bought more than one, but the man in front of me bought thirty-three, and there was only one left.
1357 Went down to The Gunners Pub to meet up with some of the brilliant guys from the forum over at arseblog.com. Nice to recognise some old faces, and meet some new ones.
1422 Dennis is on the bench. Hope he gets on today.
1430 Time to get into the ground, and take my seat in Row Z of the East Upper alongside my uncle. A wide, open view of the pitch, but little did I know my proxi3mity of the roof would put the fireworks that followed the game clear out of sight.
1455 Kickoff coming up, and my nerves are making my stomach churn so much I should probably be playing for Tottenham. I’ve put on my white “I was there” t-shirt. A lovely gesture, but I would probably have rathered a red one. Still, the fact that I’m complaining is genuinely hilarious.
1508 Pires. It’s in. One nil. Get in.
1509 With celebrations still continuing, the noise coming from the Clock End suddenly rises. West Ham have scored! A 30-yard screamer from Carl Fletcher! If the Spurs players weren’t feeling sick beforehand, they are now. Oh look, we’ve conceded a free-kick. As long as we don’t concede…
1510 We have. Bugger.
1533 Another free-kick to Wigan. No danger though. Unless David Thompson curls the ball inch-perfectly into the near post. Which he won’t. Surely. Probably. He has. Shit.
1535 At this point, Spurs and Arsenal equalise almost simultaneously, with Defoe and Henry the scorers. I was celebrating our goal so much I didn’t even find out they had scored until half-time.
1552 Half-time, and David Seaman is on the pitch. He’s cut his hair off. That’s good. The guy in front of me claims that West Ham had a penalty, and Sheringham missed it. I ring my brother, and find out that his claim is false.
1608 The half-time propechy of Sheringham’s missed penalty comes true. Subsequently, I swear a lot.
1613 David Thompson “does a Gerrard” and give the ball to Henry, who round the keeper to make it 3-2.
1633 Ljungberg’s been pulled to the ground. It’s a penalty, Henry to take. Will he score to complete a hatrick in the final game of Highbury? Of course he will. Come on West Ham!
1637 Benayoun! Yes! 2-1 to West Ham! YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!
1650 Full-time at both grounds, and jubilation at Highbury. You couldn’t script this. Just amazing. The players leave, and Highbury is officially closed down with a 90-minute ceremony that, whilst suitably poignant, is calm enough to ensure that our heart-rates return to normal – though mine did skip a beat when Gilles Grimandi made his all too brief appearance.
Going home, I bumped into and spontaneously hugged a West Ham fan. We all ought to be cheering them on in the FA Cup Final – they did us a massive, massive favour.
Now we’re in the Champions League, and the pressure is off for Wedensday’s final with Barcelona.
And a young Gooner, Theo Walcott, has achieved the nigh-miracle of being in the World Cup squad before the Arsenal first team. Full write-up on this soon.
I’m exhausted partly from typing this long post, but mostly from reliving the emotional rollercoaster of last Sunday.
Thanks Highbury: It’s been special.
