arsenal vs Spurs: Carling Cup Semi-Final (1st Leg) - “Just like the Library”
Coffee is a wonderful thing. So is the dark. I’ve been working nights and a few days as well. I’ve lost track of conventional time. I’m never quite sure what day of the week it is, how much sleep I should be having and when. There is no morning or evening any more, just darkness and coffee. If there’s dark, I can sleep. If there’s coffee, I can stay awake. I pass by the people of London unseen, ghostlike slipping by neither touched nor touchable by their presence. Like Alice I could fall down and down into this temporal abyss, the only question being: how far does the rabbit hole go?
Two things stop me disappearing for good down the tunnel. The first is LB. We pass like empty vessels on a moonless, foggy night. Forty-five minutes at WHL is no way to conduct a relationship. I miss her. I miss sex but I think I’m too tired to do it. On the way back from work at six in the morning, I eye up a ropey brunette with slutty, bright make-up. The sweet smell of her Christmas gift pack perfume fills my cheeks as she sits down opposite The bleary, dishevelled Bagel; her black stockinged legs an inch too far apart for polite company, her short, mini-skirt riding up. I’m hard but it’s not her sex I want. I’m after her body for her warmth, her softness, the comfort of flesh to fall asleep amongst. That for me is the most exquisite of pleasures right now, my most erotic thought. Sleep.
The other thing that keeps me only half attached to the real world, like a kite flying high and loose, flapping in the wind of a grey-green sky is football. For the first time I’ve got my hands on the golden ticket, arsenal away, the dragon’s lair. I will not oversleep. I must not oversleep.
It’s dark; evening dark, I think, and time to rise from a two-hour sleep. Were it anything but Spurs I’m not sure I’d make it. I don’t think it’s time for a shower. I think I had one of those recently. I run a hand through my bed-head hair. It feels clean enough. I don’t think I smell. I can’t smell me and I’m not sure I really care if anyone else can, particularly given I’m going to be surrounded by a pack of wild football fans wreaking of booze, kebabs and as many fags as they can stuff in before their 90 minutes forced abstention.
The walk from Highbury & Islington station is all too easy. I see the appeal. A short hop down Holloway Road and there it is; no half hour hike from Seven Sisters, not that I’ve bothered with that walk for a long time. There’s something oh so easy about being that much closer to town. You feel like you’re in London, not some depressed, forgotten suburb hanging on to existence by the riches left in the wake of a 40,000 strong flood every other week.
The tube is fucked. Oog’s going to be late along with several thousand other football fans and I can hear the songs of the boozy Spurs through the turnstiles as I wait outside for a good half hour and briefly beyond kick-off until my friend arrives and we get to our seats 16 rows back directly behind the goal at one end of this impressive stadium. I’m not as blown away as I could be. A recent trip to the new Wembley has recalibrated my expectations but the Emirates still has class, if only in design - one single stadium bowl, as is the modern style, no pillars to block any view and each red seat with more than double the space of an original football ground. There’s practically an extra corridor of space as we make our way down the rows.
I stop and turn to hear the crowd pitch change and the white shirt of Ledley King bearing directly down on goal. Whose goal is it? If Ledley’s on the ball, it’s got to be ours but that’s not what I’m hearing from the fans. “Shoot,” say the voices around me and our captain takes the ball wide to their groans as an arsenal defender gets his body between Ledley and the goal. It’s a golden opportunity missed at the very start of the game.
“You can stick Sol Campbell up your arse,” we sing and it feels so right to finally tell it where it counts, “Cos we’ve got Ledley at the back, singing we’ve got Ledley at the back. Singing we’ve got Ledley, we’ve got Ledley, we’ve got Ledley at the back.” Our claps punctuate the quite Emirates air. Satisfaction echoes around the ground, our message simple: you’ve got a lot of skilful players but you haven’t got the King.
The game is impossible to judge at this angle. Only the reactions of the fans from every side of the stadium hold any clue to just how close any shot has been but what is clear, what strikes me most of all is how true the stories are. This place is dead.
“Just like the Library, just like the Library, just like the Library, just like the Library,” we sing to the tune of La Donna e mobile. There is no reply. Maybe it’s because there is too much room in this place, maybe the seats aren’t close enough to create a good sound? Maybe, it’s possible? Perhaps the roof is too high, the stadium too open too make any noise. Soon we get to test the acoustics for ourselves. A good move opens up right in front of our eyes and when the ball comes in to meet JJ’s run he slots it home that strange, slow front on angle shot with the ball seemingly struck at half a mile an hour. My brain catches up with the ball as the net in front bulges and we shake the rafters of this stifled, sanitised ground with the boys 1-0 to the good.
“Spurs are on their way to Wembley,” we sing.
“Tottenham’s going to do it again. They can’t stop them the boys from Tottenham, the boys from White Hart Lane. Oh! Spurs are on their way to Wembley…”
We spend the rest of the half singing Tottenham cup victory songs. We’ve no idea what’s going to happen and we have no illusions that we’re going to win this game. It’s more about enjoying the moment, making the most of what we’ve got, bragging while we can while the home fans continue to murmur and mutter in not so much as a half or even quarter song. Simple silence is all that’s heard and the Spurs delight in it time and time again as they put their fingers to their lips and call for quiet amongst themselves to hear the pin-drop atmosphere of the home of our great rivals.
 Miraculously we’re still ahead by the break, not because we don’t deserve to be but simply because that’s the way it usually goes for us in North London derbies. The arsenal reserves are not looking good. They possess that classic Wenger trained danger, that catch you on the break and you’re fucked goal from nowhere threat but they’re nothing special tonight. They’re off colour and I wonder if they only play well at ours with the added fever of a genuine football atmosphere.
They step it up for the second half as reinforcements are brought to the stage in the shape of Sagna, Eduardo with the former simulating his way into our hearts. His antics win a free kick at the edge of the area against our recently shaky defence and we delight as the delivery is knocked more wayward than anything seen in the FA Youth Cup the previous night at WHL. Our whistles and cheers are all the louder for the relief of not conceding, not yet.
Both defences are in control with another round of praise for King Ledley for his continuous display of defensive headers and text book sliding tackles. At the other end it’s hard to see but we look close at many times of asking. Goalmouth scrambles tug at our hearts as we wait for the players to run towards us with their hands aloft calling for our cheers, but it fails to come. Little Aaron charges down the wing, menacing the arsenal flanks with his tenacity let alone his skill. Theo Walcott tries the same in our plane view and is dispossessed with far greater ease as we tell him how it is…
“Shit Aaron, Lennon. You’re just a shit Aaron Lennon. Shit Aaron Leeeeeenon. You’re just a shit Aaron Lennon,” we sing to Guantanamera.
We sit back with twenty-five minutes to go much to Oog’s displeasure. Are they scared or are these Juande’s orders? “In Ramos we trust” is all we can agree. It all looks comfortable and all to plan but we all know the trouble with arsenal and one slip is all it takes, one lapse as they catch us on the break with Walcott through at our end of the ground, Cerny left to beat and our hands already on our heads and nearly over our eyes. Lee gets the tackle round in time but the bounce is unkind and it loops over the diving keeper and the net bulges not metres away.
It’s loud. It’s very loud. The sounds is as fantastic as the goal is annoying. Only the noise at Sevilla compares to what I hear as red and white scarves are twirled in the air and a rich, glorious, choral cry fills the night. It’s a shame to lose the advantage but it’s a far greater shame that the arsenal fans don’t bother to make that noise for the rest of the game. The atmosphere at this ground could be incredible. A derby could be a derby. Any fixture here could be a marvel to behold if only the fans would back up the love for their club with cries the from their hearts.
It’s simply impossible to get a song of our own going under all the home crowd noise but their vocal support is over in minutes and it’s us who sing again as the Little Yiddo is brought on to a very near success as his best chance goes begging minutes later at the far end of the pitch. When the whistle blows we’re relieved not to have conceded again. Anything is possible in the dying minutes of a game like this and as we filter out, the Spurs are by far the happier fans, still singing of our path to Wembley and the 107 steps up to lifting the Carling Cup.
The arsenal fans may have been quiet but the biggest shame of the evening was all ours. The police did not do their job spectacularly well and the fans, barely separated flowed by with a clear red/blue divide with Oog and I at the border. One thug, animal, behind us kicked out at the home fans, who’d done nothing to invite such treatment.
“You fucking arsenal cunts,” he shouted spitting his venom and worse still, “you fucking Muslim cunt,” as he tore at others with darker skin and longer beards. I hope he was arrested but somehow I doubt he worries. My apologies Arsenal. No one deserves that.
The Bagel.
January 10th, 2008 at 10:42 am
Unlucky last night boys.
Shame to hear about the abuse at the end. Shocking really.
In other news - 11m for Fred?
January 10th, 2008 at 11:20 am
“Just like the Library”
What fucking game were you at son?
I was there last night… n’ we didn’t hear a fucking thing from you lot, until you scored & even then, nothing after that!
To think you had an extra allocation last night too, makes it even more pathetic!
As for the thug at the end of the game… that’s what your lot do, after every game son! So you might as well be apologising for the last 50 games n’ all!
It’s well hard attacking scarfers, seeing as the Herd have ran your lot all over North London the past 3 matches! So it’s time to start attacking people who don’t want to know! At least you can win that fight, hey? Yid cunts!
January 10th, 2008 at 11:54 am
You do write some bollocks don’t you.
January 10th, 2008 at 1:26 pm
haha i think Cock End goon must be a 90 year old pensioner, calling you ’son’ haha..the stadium was almost worse than the library, deadly quiet! As for the second leg, i believe we can do it, bring it on!
COYS!
January 10th, 2008 at 1:52 pm
quiet? what the fuck are you on about? there was almost endless singing - aside from about 15 of an hour in the second, where too many nails were being bitten.
January 10th, 2008 at 2:08 pm
Looks like i stumbled upon the right Sp*rs blog to read. Excellently written mate, particularly liked -
‘There’s something oh so easy about being that much closer to town. You feel like you’re in London, not some depressed, forgotten suburb hanging on to existence by the riches left in the wake of a 40,000 strong flood every other week.’
Not much to do with the actual game but it sets the scene nicely.
I didn’t go last night but was at the league game and there was nothing wrong with the atmosphere then.. And I promise to make a mense by singing up over at yours in a couple of weeks. Of course i’ll have to tuck away any red clothing as i leave the stadium for fear of bumping into that venomous twat you refer to. It’s always the way when leaving Shite Hart Lane though. Why do you suppose that is; dickheads like him clearly aren’t that rare amongst you?
January 10th, 2008 at 2:33 pm
Things I knew :
1) Big Sam would be sacked by newcastle - good riddance to a shameful ‘football’ manager
2) Robinson would be culled cos he’s just a duff.
3) Bent comparing himself to Thierry would come back to haunt him.
4) Despite trying hard and playing their best football in ages, spuds couldn’t beat a struggling and ineffective Arsenal reserve side, the gap widens even further.
January 10th, 2008 at 2:40 pm
I was at the game last night, and some areas of the ground were quiet at times.
However, I have been noticing this since my first game at Ashburton (Dinamo Zagreb) in 06, the fans are still trying to find their voice in pockets around the ground - I have no doubt this will change over time and as anyone witnessing it will know, at full volume the atmosphere at Ashburton is tremendous.
January 10th, 2008 at 3:36 pm
there seems to be a lot of stumbling upon this blog by arse fans - seems quiet a few of you are determined to come on here to make pointless wittiscisms
and i thought you all couldnt care less about us anymore - its nice to know you still do
January 10th, 2008 at 3:46 pm
Considering we often get accused of being ‘obsessed’ with le arse it’s quite sad to see how many of you feel the need to pop up on here spouting the usual bile, Same old same old. It would be different if any of had anything relevant to say but it seems you’re all just a bunch of wankers of the same ilk that appear after every Chelsea game. Yawn.
Block9: seems like we can both attest to dickheads in the ranks of the support, look no further than Cock End Gooner above for an example, ’son’. No need to make amends (but you could learn how to spell).
Cracking read as always Bagel, COYS!
January 10th, 2008 at 4:10 pm
At full volume it IS impressive. Last night was my second game “at Ashburton”. The first was Chelsea last season.
Both times I heard about two minutes of “full volume”, after a goal had been scored, and then back to the sound of 60000 people murmuring.
I’m sure those games were bad examples though. I imagine its usually much better against Wigan, Birmingham and so on…
I don’t see why it will change. You build a large ground and the pockets trying to find their voice are simply the diehards that grouped together at the older smaller ground surrounded by the prawn sandwich brigade that fill in the gaps. The same would happen if / when we expand our capacity. The one difference is that at Highbury the atmosphere was already poor, although I never went to a Spurs game there I must admit.
Its not the biggest problem in the world, its just a shame if your team don’t make a noise. WHL is by no means a cauldron of noise all the time, but by premiership standards its pretty good I think.
There do seem to be a lot of Arsenal fans coming on to this blog in recent months… I don’t mind it at all if they actually act with decency (as also applies to spurs fans).
I think we can all tell apart the opposition fans who have nothing of value to say (clock end gooner) from those who actually contribute (ki ki - who is obviously a wind up merchant but one who unlike CEG has something to say and a command of language sufficient to say it / that west ham fan who was on here a couple of weeks ago).
January 10th, 2008 at 4:23 pm
I think this says it all http://uk.eurosport.yahoo.com/26102007/58/premier-league-sunderland-top-noise-table.html
Spurs in 2nd, Arsenal 12th. If only the premiership table read the same.
January 10th, 2008 at 4:47 pm
I hope this is just rubbish…….
http://uk.eurosport.yahoo.com/10012008/1/chimbonda-open-villa-switch.html
January 10th, 2008 at 6:25 pm
Hey Bagel, thanks for the namecheck in the Yoof report.
When are we going to get a bit of luck against the Kevin Costner Allstars?
I’d like to put an end to the Arsenal ‘Kids’ myth once and for all. For the benefit of all the goons who read this site - The average age of the Arsenal team last night was 22, compared to 26 for Spurs. The Spurs number would have been reduced to 24.6 had normal first teamers Robinson and Bale been playing.
The comparison was even closer when we were supposedly beaten by the Kids last year when, amongst other first team regulars, Fabregas and Kolo Toure were on the pitch.
It’s no surprise that Shushburton Grove is like the Library - it’s full (in fact not quite full even for a local derby semi final - unbelievably) of the same fans.
Remember Gooners we’ve been playing silky football for 57 years, not 7.
January 10th, 2008 at 11:48 pm
Great report…but…..did you get the Tart wie the short skirt phone number?
Watched the game on Sky, second time i have seen spurs play well against the Arse and come away without a victory….
Must admit the atmos seemed fine on the telly…..
Hail Hail
January 11th, 2008 at 10:39 am
Me - a wind up merchant ???
I’m outraged, surely there must be some mistake.
As for NSD COYS’ comments, that must be the first time a George Graham team has been described as having played ’silky football’.
I must have been out that season !
January 11th, 2008 at 12:10 pm
NSD COYS.
Great post mate, pretty much sums everything up! Oh and thank god for Paul Jewel taking Ghaly out on loan to Wigan, hopefully they’ll make it perminent asap!
COYS!
January 11th, 2008 at 12:15 pm
Just got 2nd leg tickets for me and me old man. 127 quid!!
January 11th, 2008 at 1:07 pm
Wilson.
How much are the tickets, my brother has booked three and he hasn’t told me the price yet, i fear the worst!
January 11th, 2008 at 2:12 pm
NSD COYS.
Just to help with that simple arithmetic, you should find that 22 is a lower number than 26, therefore we can determine that we sported a more youthful team, the Arsenal number would have been further reduced had we played more younger players, but nevermind.
Further to this should you happen upon a dictionary in your travels, even perhaps a trawl through the knowledge bases on the interweb, you may notice that a definition of kid would be a youthful person.
The ‘team’ as described in the first paragraph would be deemed to mean a plural, therefore the plural of kid should be used. Ergo we have ‘kids’.
There we go, the ‘myth’ has now been proven to be indisputable fact, please go forth, tell your friends that there’s a new sheriff in town, and he loves kids, and those kids love embarrassing your first team again and again !
Good luck tomorrow, I hope you get all 3 points, but i wouldn’t be surprised to see Anelka score on his debut.
January 11th, 2008 at 2:41 pm
WHS
So you are saying that it is indisputable fact that Sheriff Wenger loves kids?
January 11th, 2008 at 2:48 pm
As much as i hate to agree with WHS(hitforbrains) the average age of a prem team is 27, and as the goons regularly put out a team with an IQ - sorry - AGE of 22, that would in fact make them ‘Kids’ by comparison.
January 11th, 2008 at 3:00 pm
WHS
Seriously, you claim that your “kids” love embarrassing our first team.
How was it embarrassing for us on Wednesday?
We were much the better team. The stats show that clearly. We created plenty of chances and would have won the game if it had not been for poor finishing from us and a lucky goal for you. And it was at your place.
January 11th, 2008 at 3:59 pm
1992Yido it depends mate because prices range from £40 - 70 depending on where you are. I’m in the upper East stand and it cost £61 each plus administrative costs and all that.
January 11th, 2008 at 4:01 pm
Hornchurch,
‘would have won the game’ ??
Yeah, but you didn’t.
‘created plenty of chances’
Yeah, but didn’t take them.
I wonder how vast the scoreline would be were our first team to take on your youth team ?
January 11th, 2008 at 4:17 pm
Hornchurch,
With regards to your childish and potentially libelous statements, ho ho ho, how funny you are - where do you want to draw the line, when I phonetically describe hissing ?
As I have mentioned before, the nature of my posts are strickly football banter, they do not describe or label players or managers, except Robinson who clearly is a duff, please do the same.
January 11th, 2008 at 5:31 pm
WHS
You really are a pompous fool.
To make light of the extermination of over 6 million jews as though it is in any way comparable to a few terrace songs about your manager that are in no way factually correct is shameful.
Anyway, you said he loves kids first nah nah nah nah!
January 11th, 2008 at 7:42 pm
Perhaps you are right, perhaps I should be more lenient and laugh at the slurs a bit more, but like I say, where do you draw the line ?
What is deemed acceptable?
You have no problem calling yourself Yid, but oog gets offended by anti sematic chants.
The tone of text cannot be measured and therefore the context cannot be deduced.
I have and will continue to keep my comments on a strictly footballing basis, and take a no-nonsense stand against offensive slurs toward individuals both ours and spuds.
Perhaps this a little anal, but at least we all know where we stand.
I’m getting a nosebleed on top of this soapbox, so wish you well against the hypocrites from west london.
January 11th, 2008 at 7:45 pm
Thanks Wilson.
January 12th, 2008 at 12:29 am
Well…
I think we should all be offended by anti-semitic chants, should we not? [and I do not mean spurs fans singing 'yids']
But it is true, I am also offended by the idea of calling someone a paedophile when he isn’t one. Even the Arsenal manager. I know people think its cartoon humour, but… it just isn’t. Like the elephant man, Arsene Wenger is a man. (discuss)
That said, if you sing it, then I disagree with you completely but I’ll debate it with you over a pint.
If you make gas chamber noises, that is a whole other level of wrong and I don’t want you in the same stadium, or indeed planet, as me.
Anyway. I’m only going to write about football from now on. Probably.
January 12th, 2008 at 12:30 pm
Hopefully