After having three daughters, my dad was understandably chuffed to have a son. Someone he could share his love of West Ham United with, or so he hoped. Unfortunately for him, yet luckily for me, it wasn't to be, as my mum got to me first. Having been brought up in Islington she introduced me to Arsenal, The Gunners.
Cut to 2001 and a 13 year old boy is sat in Block P of the West Lower stand of Highbury on a bitterly cold boxing day. My father has finally accepted that I’m going to be a ‘Gooner’ not a ‘Hammer’ and has taken me to NW5 for the first time. We played Chelsea that day, and my first memory of football comes as Frank Lampard scores (something I’ve never forgiven him for) in the first half and I realise just how quiet ‘The Library’ can get at times. After a barely edible pie at half time I settled down for the second half, praying for an equalizer. God, that day taking the form of Sol Campbell duly obliges, we are 1-1 after 49 minutes. With 20 minutes left on the clock Sylvain Wiltord scores to make it 2-1- the library is no longer quiet. We hold out until full time to take all three points in this London derby. Although the following years will be kinder to Chelsea and they become one of the best teams in World Football, I will still remember the days when were the better team. Arsenal went on to finish second in the league that year and I went on to support Arsenal every moment since. All thanks to my mothers birthplace and the unluckiest of heroes in Sylvain Wiltord. And although Arsenal may have moved grounds since then, I’m still yet to watch them draw or lose live, something I’m sure either makes me a miracle worker or very wise at picking which games to get tickets for.
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