Have a favourite Arsenal goal, player or match? Want to share the experience of your first ever game or the atmosphere at a Cup Final? Ever met someone who has played for the Gunners? 

We want to hear from Arsenal fans willing and eager to share something personal about their love for the club. All you have to do is email us via the CONTACT page mentioning 'MEMORY BANK' in the title. Your entry can be as long or as short as you like, just do your best to stick to the Queen's English. 




BY CIARAN SHAW / @CiaranShaw

Most people associate painful football memories with sadness, but the one I want to talk about is an angry one; a moment in Arsenal’s history that filled me with more football rage than I’ve ever experienced. I'm talking about the 2-0 defeat to Manchester United in 2004, the game which brought our undefeated run to an end in its 49th game.

Even now when I think about that game, talk about that afternoon or watch any glimpses of the highlights it takes me right back to the moment; the moment when Gary Neville should have been sent off countless times, the moment when I felt nothing but pity for Jose Antonio Reyes for being bullied and assaulted on that pitch and the moment when Wayne Rooney dived like the little, slimy git that he is to finish the game off.

I have never, in my entire football watching life, seen a more one sided display by a referee! (Even writing about it now is making me mad) How almost every decision was wrongly made and that referee still has a job is beyond me (I refuse to write his name).

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Tears in the Bath

BY DAVE ARMSTRONG / @block6gooner

I became a Gooner during the George Graham years after my best friend at primary school introduced me to his family’s love for The Arsenal. They weren’t glamorous years to earn my grounding as a fan, the football was boring, but it was effective. I still look back fondly on the Steve Bould near post corner flick-on and remember trying to recreate the same move in the playground.

In 1993 we’d won both the League and FA Cup and the next year, in what ITV might call ‘that night’ in Copenhagen, we secured our first European silverware for 24 years beating Parma. In a sort of celebration I’d used a black permanent marker to write on my football, “Arsenal Cup Winners’ Cup Champions 1994.”

A year later we were in the final again, this time against Spanish side Real Zaragoza, and the permanent marker was still visible. I spent the afternoon in the build-up to the match playing out the final…Arsenal won of course. I tempted fate, I’m sorry Gooners it’s all my fault. I added “1995” to my white ball. I was being presumptuous.

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Two Loves


Most men fight with their girlfriends or their wives about the amount of football watched at home. I’m no exception but there is a slight difference. The worst argument I’ve ever had with my fiancée was about the suitability of Robin Van Persie to the position of out-and-out striker. That was about three or four years ago. I was wrong and his recent scoring exploits have proved the point.

After every goal Robin scores, after every impressive stat that’s read out relating to his performance, after every one of his assists or any commendation from the commentator, my other half turns to me and asks: “Hmmm, he is playing very well Liam but I wonder, are we getting the best out of Van Persie in that position?!”

I suppose I should explain. Some football lovers are born Arsenal fans, some choose to be Arsenal fans, and some have Arsenal fandom thrust upon them. I’m in the latter category. Not that I’m complaining mind you – I’ve always admired Arsene Wenger, his attacking philosophy and his commendable approach to youth development.

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Wembley Woe

BY JAKE MANCER / @juniorgooner

It was a riveting League Cup run. We’d slaughtered the Spuds on their own turf, trampled Newcastle at St James Park, drifted past Wigan at the Emirates and fought hard over two-legs against Ipswich until “She Wore a Yellow Ribbon” again sounded out over North London.

Finally, the chance we'd been waiting for. Thirteen years after sealing the Double against Newcastle we were back in a Wembley final – and against an opponent, Birmingham City, who on paper should have been cannon fodder. We’d just beaten Barcelona at the Emirates, confidence couldn’t be higher.

But it was all too much…

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An Open Gate

BY JOHN DUNNE / @rebelgooner

I just wanted to share the experience of my first trip to The Home of Football. I was 12-years-old when the family decided to take a holiday in London in August 1980. I had been an Arsenal fan since my uncle bought me a t-shirt aged 5 so Dad took me to visit Highbury with a view to getting tickets for a midweek match against Southampton.

When we arrived at the box office, we saw the gate that led to the pitch was open. We decided to go for a stroll and there in front of us was the first team training on the hallowed turf. It was a real shock and then a voice started shouting at us telling us to leave. When the guy got closer we heard his Irish accent.

Dad had a word with him, lied a bit about it being our last day in England and the gentleman groundsman, who I think was called Paddy, let us sit in the dugout and watch the players going through their paces. When they had finished training I was able to meet all of my heroes including David O’Leary, Pat Jennings, Willie Young and Frank Stapleton.

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Show Us A Sign


There have been many special games in Arsenal’s fantastic 125 year history, but for me the last game of the 1995/96 season against Bolton Wanderers was particularly memorable. There were no trophies up for grabs, but with a UEFA Cup place on the line it still represented a must win game.

It was of course the culmination of Bruce Rioch’s only season at the club (although he didn’t know it) and in retrospect, following the end of the successful George Graham era, expectations on the terraces were markedly lower.

Qualifying for Europe represented a massive achievement. For a start it would help the club keep new boys Dennis Bergkamp and David Platt happy, while the chance of a continental adventure would also help lure better players to the club in the future.

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This Will Never Happen Again

BY ALICE BOWYER / @elcapitancooks

“Come on, just hold my hand,” said my dad as we walked together up Wembley Way for my first ever football match. It was April, 1991, The FA Cup semi-final against Spurs. I was 11.

I still can't believe that it was my first football match, what was my dad thinking?

He took me, along with my two Arsenal mad cousins, and as I held his hand tightly, I was open mouthed in awe at the size of it all. So many people, such a massive building. I had no idea what was to come over the next couple of hours.

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Sharing the Moment

BY RICKY GARCHA / @geezypeas

I thought long and hard about what to write before adding an entry to the Memory Bank...Which game? Which goal? Which player? In the end, I couldn’t decide on one single event, so instead I've opted to write about us and what it means to be a Gooner.

I used to think that only Londoners could know what "Ooh to Be" meant and that only local Gooners could love the club like I do. I was under the assumption that the further away you lived, the more your love for Arsenal was built and relied on success.

I was actually born in Hammersmith and raised on a poor multi-storey council estate in west London (where most couldn't afford to get through the week, let alone buy a ticket for the footy) so I could never claim to have been a regular at The Arsenal in my youth.

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Bread, Tuna and Arsenal 


As a South African born boertjie (directly translated this means ‘small farmer’, but actually it’s just local lingo for an Afrikaan speaker) I was raised with rugby in my blood.

However, when I moved to Johannesburg for my first job, I discovered this special game called football. When I came to choose a team to follow, it was never in doubt. I could only follow The Arsenal. Why? I don't really know!

Maybe it was the skill of a certain Mr Henry or the stunning red and white kit, possibly it was the fact Arsene Wenger is from France and I have a French background or perhaps it was because we played proper football! Whatever it was, there has been no turning back.

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100 Not Out

BY PAUL BIDDISS / @The_North_Bank

The Arsenal had started the 1994/1995 season in a desperate fashion. Despite winning the opening game of the season 3-0 against Manchester City at Highbury, they would not experience victory in the league until the end of September at West Ham. In need of points and a run of form, the Gunners welcomed a lowly Crystal Palace side to The Home of Football at the beginning of October.

When I was younger opportunities to watch The Arsenal were generally few and far between. This was in part due to the difficulty of getting tickets if you weren’t a member and also down to the fact I was totally reliant on my dad funding the day out. It therefore comes as little surprise that when I was handed tickets on my ninth birthday to watch the team from the North Bank I reacted with suitable childish enthusiasm.

I had only been to one game prior to the Palace game (Ipswich in 1993) and was buzzing about seeing my hero, Ian Wright. I had built an unhealthy obsession with Wrighty following his exploits in the FA Cup finals of 1993 (Linighan’s 120th minute header another classic early memory, but that’s for another day) and although the team had started the season poorly, Wrighty had been in fine form, scoring goals at home and in Europe. After netting a brace in Nicosia a couple of days beforehand, he was on 99 goals going into the Palace game. This statistic had neither escaped my mind, nor my brother’s as we arrived on Gillespie Road alongside our Dad.

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