To My Dear Uncle

BY JOHN VAN DER LUIT-DRUMMOND / @jvdld

I remember it like it was yesterday; my first game at Highbury, Saturday 10th January 1998. Arsenal vs ‘the Dirty’ Leeds.

It was a complete surprise to me at the time. I'd been bought one of those Arsenal puffer jackets at Christmas, the type that Arsene still wears. My Mum said I should wear it as we were heading over to my grandparents for the weekend and it was cold outside. A little odd I thought as it was not as if my grandparents were trying to save on their heating bill, but still I got to wear my new coat.

When we arrived I was greeted by my Uncle, who was something of a hero to my 12-year-old self. My opinion of him grew even greater when he took me by the arm and said he was taking me to The Arsenal. Now, the old fella (as I have recently come to refer to him due to his advancing years) was the whole reason I was an Arsenal fan in the first place. The way he tells it I was just about crowning when he was on the phone to Arsenal FC signing me up as a Junior Gunner.

Click to read more ...

The Dutch Master

BY MARY O’CONNELL / @mary_db10

I wanted to contribute to the Memory Bank because the creation of new memories every season, coupled with the recollection of unforgettable moments from days gone by, is one of my favourite things about being an Arsenal fan.

I still remember what it felt like to put on my first shirt and reminisce about the days when, before live blog updates, I would sit with my mother and sister in front of the teletext screen, waiting and hoping for it to flash up an Arsenal goal.

I remember giving my cousin Killian his first replica jersey when he was 5-years-old, a gold shirt with Bergkamp on the back. That same day, the day before Christmas Eve in 2001, Thierry Henry scored at Anfield, the first time an Arsenal player had netted at that ground in six years. Even though we played most of the match with ten men, we won 1-2, and Killian, and his shirt, were immediately pronounced lucky.

Click to read more ...

Mathieu Flamini broke my heart

BY STEPHEN ASHERS / @stephenashers

When I was young I was a Manchester United fan – well kind of. It just so happened that when I was growing up and learning my football, my midfield partner and best friend was called Roy. As he was a United fan, he came to be nicknamed ‘Roy Keane’, while I was labeled ‘Steve Bruce’. At the time in Kenya there was very little coverage of the Premier League, except for a few snippets via the BBC and our local newspapers. Our allegiances were as a consequence wishy-washy at best.

Fast forward to around 1996 or 1997 and television station STV started broadcasting free live EPL games in Kenya. My younger brother came home one day very excited saying he’s watched the greatest football match EVER. He said it featured an English team who had to be the greatest and they were called Arsenal. Even more amazing, he told me they had a coach, Arsene, who was named after the time. How romantic I thought to myself. I was a bit skeptical though, from what my friend Roy had told me, United were the greatest…

I endeavored to watch an Arsenal match all the same. I cannot recall anything about the opposition or about the match as a whole but fell irrevocably in love with the Arsenal - the romantic, entertaining team whose coach was named after his team. I may not have endearing recollections of Gunners games from the seventies and eighties; I didn’t even know Arsenal in 1989 and have no memories of Michael Thomas and his famous goal. All my love for the club is centered on the Arsene era, and from this I draw my inspiration for my entry to the Memory Bank.

Click to read more ...

Wednesday on a Thursday

BY NICK GATT / @djnickgatt

It was Thursday 20th May 1993. I was 15-years-old and my day at school seemed like it had lasted longer than a full screening of War And Peace.

Now five days previous to this, I had been at Wembley watching my beloved Arsenal in the FA Cup Final against Sheffield Wednesday. 

I remember being gutted when I had bought my ticket, because although it was cheap, it had the words RESTRICTED VIEW emblazoned across it in massive letters. What did this actually mean I thought? I had visions of sitting behind a 7 foot giant with an afro the size of Scotland, but despite my fears, I was going to Wembley and that was good enough for me.

Click to read more ...

Kicking and Screaming

BY AISHA KAUR

I had only just turned 4-years-old before the start of the 1997/98 season, but despite my age I felt I was old enough to go to Highbury. Well that’s what I would try and tell my family when they used to leave me in the care of non-Gooner relatives on their way to Arsenal!

I used to beg and plead with my parents and brother to let me go with them. So much in fact that it reached the point where I think they were tempted to put a muzzle on me. Finally, however, on Monday August 11th, when all potential babysitters were either on holiday or ill, I got my way. A situation, which sent my young self absolutely bananas!

It was a beautiful day for me, getting to join my family on the bus from Southall to Highbury. I was buzzing and when we finally arrived at Highbury I squealed so loud that I think passers-by gave my parents funny looks. I’d seen Highbury on the television numerous times, but as soon as we entered the stadium the atmosphere hit me so hard. I was entranced.

Click to read more ...

The Makings of a Montage

BY MARTIN DAVIES / @fidgitaldesign

I was only 3-years-old when my Dad and brothers took me to Highbury for the first time in 1976. I don’t remember much, I was young after all, but it proved to be the start of a life-long relationship with The Arsenal and the continuation of a family affair which had been going strong since the fifties. 

Living in Yorkshire with my wife and three sons (all Gooners) I don’t get to many matches anymore, so when my season-ticket holding Dad sporadically offers me a ticket I jump at the chance. One such offer was forthcoming in May 2006 and it just blew me away.

"Would you like to go and see the last game at Highbury, against Wigan?" asked my dad - "Is the Pope Catholic?" came my reply.

Click to read more ...

Truly Invincible

BY PAVLOS ANASTASI / @pav_afc

Ever since my mother sat me down in front of the television and let the 97/98 Double team ‘educate’ me in the art of football, Arsenal have played a prominent role in my life.

I wasn’t taken to watch games at Highbury very often as a  child, but when I did go it was always a special occasion. You can therefore imagine the delight on my face when my uncle, a season ticket holder, revealed he had a spare ticket for the last game of the 2003/04 season against Leicester City.

The chance to see Arsenal go the whole season unbeaten! The chance to see Arsenal lift the Premiership title! The chance to see my heroes in action, doing what they love doing! I asked my parents…actually I begged my parents to let me go and when they agreed it was just the most fantastic feeling.

Click to read more ...

What Counts is The Memory

BY @darrenarsenal1

“I can’t believe we did that…we’ve blown it.” That was the general sentiment doing the rounds in the original Arsenal Café after failing to beat both Derby and Wimbledon in consecutive home games. We’d hoped for the best, expected the worst and delivered on the latter. It meant winning at Anfield.

May 1989, the new summer of love, the Roses and the Hacienda ruled, and I hadn’t missed a home or away game all season. Now it came down to this, beating Liverpool. I was leaving Highbury after the Wimbledon game, upset, but still of an age where I thought we could pull it out of the fire…and then I bumped into Michael Thomas who was crying in Highbury’s Marble Halls. His face told a thousand words - I KNEW we had blown it.

Somebody, somewhere decreed the game would be on a Friday, a Bank Holiday weekend from memory, and I decided I would go with the Arsenal Travel Club to Liverpool. A 1pm departure from Highbury would allow plenty of time to mingle with fellow fans before the game, or so we thought. Alas, by 4pm we’d only reached Birmingham and solid traffic meant that nerves on the bus were starting to fray. I remember briefly sitting next to Amy Lawrence on the bus (before she became a face) and also vividly recall a Salman Rushdie song being repeatedly sung, although to this day I still can’t recall why!

Click to read more ...

Home or Away?

BY PAL-DIDRIK HOFF ROLAND / @Somestupidnick

The memory I'd like to share with you is a rather insignificant match, not even an Arsenal win, but it holds some special points for me. It's a bit me-centric, but that's quite often what memories are like. For the record, I went from oblivious to full-on Gooner thanks to Alan Sunderland's FA Cup goal in the "Five Minute Final" in 1979, less than a month before my 6th birthday.

Being Norwegian (and more importantly, living in Norway) I don't get to see Arsenal play live as much as I want to. That being said I've been blessed with many of the games I've been to.  I was there when Ian Wright scored a hat-trick against Bolton to become our all time highest goal-scorer. I was there when we beat Everton 7-0 in Bergkamp's triumph and Edu's last home game. I was there for Dennis' testimonial at the Emirates. And - following some expensive eBay dealings with a Dutchman as Lehmann’s penalty save from Riquelme was being replayed on TV - I made it to Paris for the Champions League final against Barcelona. I have ‘big game’ memories, even if the last included me and my mate having to watch a compatriot send off Jens Lehmann!  

Those games were memorable for all fans of the Gunners,  but let me instead take you back to the end of September in 2004. For Arsenal it started with the ‘Invincibles’ qualifying for the Champions League. For me it also started, unbeknown at the time, when Wenger showed the world he really meant we could go a season unbeaten when I said yes to do a work presentation in Denmark in the fall that year.

Click to read more ...

Indebted

BY ANDREW ALLEN / @AAllenSport

I’ve been meaning to write a proper entry for the Memory Bank ever since I launched the site a month ago. Regrettably, I’ve avoided the responsibility finding myriad ways of busying myself without facing up to the task at hand.

I have a confession to make – despite spending the last three years trying to make a living as a journalist, I find writing very difficult. I’m certainly no natural and the process of getting into a suitably lucid state of mind causes me no end of trauma. A blank page has always intimidated me and I suspect it always will.

As a few of you will probably know, I can just about cope within the strict confines of a 140 character tweet. Indeed, it’s 363 days since I signed up for a personal account on Twitter and while initially being somewhat suspicious of its worth I’m willing to assert that it has completely changed my relationship with the internet and to a certain extent with Arsenal.

Click to read more ...