Since Thierry Henry returned to Arsenal in January, Emerson has nagged and nagged me to take him to a match so he could see him play live for the first time. Unfortunately it had coincided with my foot being in plaster so getting to a game was not easy, but when I heard this trip to Sunderland would probably be his last in England, I knew we had to be there.
With driving out the question, we had no choice other than to take the train. So we arrived at Darlington station at 13.00 for the short trip to Newcastle, before catching the Metro to St. Peters. Despite living in these parts for over 10 years I had never been on the Newcastle Metro before and Emerson was particularly excited.
''Will it be like the London Underground?'' he asked.
''Yeah probably,'' I replied, although we hoped the trains would be rather less rattley!
The first leg of our journey was livened up by the presence of a hen party heading to the Toon. Emerson did not know what to make of it all, but I found it hilarious. For some reason we found ourselves caught up in the middle of it all, and one woman - a Man. United fan - told Emerson Sunderland would win 2-1. Yes, she had been drinking...
As it turned out the Metro was not rattley at all, although it seemed to take forever to reach Sunderland. We played our usual prediction game to pass the time and Emerson went for a 3-2 win, although the only thing he really wanted was to see Henry score. I, rather optimistically, went for 4-1.
''Dad, are you serious?'' asked a shocked Emerson.
''Yeah, why not?'' I replied.
After a quick stop for chips, we got in the ground half an hour before kick off to see the atmosphere building up nicely. The last few minutes of the Manchester United v Liverpool match was on the TV in the concourse and I was shocked to hear the Arsenal fans singing 'Evra you're a c**t' when he appeared on screen. Yes, he is a loathsome individual, but come on, he was the victim in that little story.
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| View from our seats. |
Once in our seats I soon remembered what I hate about games in the North-East. The away end is full of northern Gooners who rarely go to games in any other part of the country, so you have to suffer their moronic comments for 90 minutes. As luck would have it Emerson and I were in the 'Scottish' section. The last thing you need on a freezing cold Saturday in February is to be stuck with a load of pissed up Jocks. They really were the most miserable bunch you could ever wish to meet. One in particular, sitting just behind Emerson (wearing a kilt in -4 degrees, genius), kept shouting 'for f**k sake Arsenal, come on!' every time Sunderland got the ball.
Meanwhile, next to us were the Theo Walcott appreciation society. I am getting sick of tired of hearing so-called Arsenal fans constantly getting on Theo's back. Several times he was given a dreadful pass, usually by Song or Rosicky, and he tried his best to control it or keep it in play, but everyone immediately jumped on his back when he failed to do so. Shameful. Okay he didn't have his greatest game here but while he is on the pitch we should support him. Plus he has had a good season overall. Not that these clowns would know as they have probably only seen about 2-3 games. Anyway I digress.
The first thing that became clear was the state of the pitch. Yes, the weather has been bad but this was just a disgrace. There are park pitches in better condition. What is the groundsman doing? My initial thought was that they had made it that bad on purpose, to hinder our passing game, but I was later informed it was just as bad for their last home against long-ball merchants Norwich.
Unsurprisingly the first half was a low-key affair. We dominated possession but found Sunderland happy to sit back and try to catch us on the break. They had one or two half chances, while the nearest we came was a shot from Theo that flew across the face of the goal. I really wished it had gone in just to see the morons around me having to cheer something he had done. Hypocrites to a man.
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| Emerson braving the cold weather. |
Half time led to a mission to get to the toilet. The concourse area is far too narrow for the number of fans inside, leading a dangerous bottle-neck as people queue for refreshments while others try to squeeze past. Just getting to the toilet and back with Emerson took up the whole 20 minute half-time break, so how anyone can manage to get food as well is beyond me. Oh yes, you leave your seat with 10 minutes still to play...
We showed a bit more urgency at the start of the second half, but all Emerson wanted to know was when Henry was coming on. I have been lucky enough to see the great man play many times, and score many, many goals, but Emerson's first match was not until 2008, the year after he left. Of course I have told him all about Henry and he has seen the DVD's, but now he just wanted to see him play in the flesh. He did not have to wait long.
The 'fans' around us were disappointed it was the Ox who went off and not their favourite Walcott, even though the teenager had contributed even less, but we didn't mind one bit. Just to see the great man in the team again was a magical moment, and it would much better later on.
But first things looked to be going wrong when Sunderland went ahead twenty minutes from time. Mertesaker, who had been having a decent game, went down when chasing the ball, twisting his ankle on the awful playing surface, leaving McClean with a clean run on goal.
After our recent poor run we simply had to get something from the match and Ramsey, who had just come on for the unfortunate German, equalised within five minutes with a shot that went in off both posts. Emerson was unsure who had scored until it came up on the scoreboard opposite us.
''Aaron Ramsey??'' he said. ''Isn't he usually rubbish?''
For an 8 year old he certainly knows his stuff.
''Yes, Emerson, he usually is, but not today.''
I felt sure we would win now as Sunderland looked to be feeling the effects of extra time in midweek, and Wenger made his third inspired substitution, finally taking off Theo (to massive cheers around us) and bringing Arshavin on.
It almost paid off immediately when the little Russian sent in a superb left-wing cross, but RvP could only head straight at the keeper. That appeared to be our last chance but, just as the fourth official had put up the board saying 4 minutes of stoppage time would be played, came the moment we had been praying for.
Again Arshavin whipped in a great cross from the left and Henry arrived to flick it home from 2 yards. Yes, Henry had scored. To say the away end went mental was an understatement. Emerson was jumping around like mad and we both ended up buried beneath a bunch of happy Jocks. It's not often you can say that...
It was only then I realised Emerson hadn't actually seen who had scored. He had only seen the cross from Arshavin and then everyone going mental. As he looked up at the scoreboard he could not believe what he saw.
''He has scored, dad, he has scored...'' he kept saying and almost had tears in his eyes.
It was simply the best moment I had ever experienced in over 30 years watching football and I found myself welling up too.
''Yes, Emerson, he certainly has...''
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| The players celebrate after a very important three points. |
The final whistle brought joy and relief, while Henry came over to say his last farewell to the travelling fans. Emerson wanted to run down the front to get closer, but it was far too congested so he decided to stand on his seat instead, manically waving in the direction of his hero.
As the results came through on the scoreboard we were given more good news, as after Liverpool's earlier defeat, Chelsea had also been beaten at Everton. Therefore Henry's goal had not only won us the match but had moved us back into the top 4. Not bad considering the problems we have had this season.
Our next mission was to get back to Newcastle on the Metro. For some reason they decided to shut the northbound platform so everyone was told to go south to Sunderland, cross over, and get the train back. Therefore the northbound platform was over-crowded, the train, when it arrived, was over-crowed, while the southbound platform was completely empty. Madness.
The problem was repeated at Sunderland station, and by the time we got back to the Stadium of Light station, two stops back up from Sunderland, the train was so full no one else could get on. I'm not sure who organises all this but apparently it is the same after every match. Why not just open both platforms and ease all the congestion? Shame, as the whole train experience had been rather pleasant until then.
Once on the train we discovered that Spurs were 4-0 up in twenty minutes against Newcastle. Sound familiar?? Of course they ended up winning 5-0, which wasn't a bad result for us as it meant the Geordies stayed below us, although most Gooners seemed a little upset. Come on guys, we are not going to catch Spurs anyway and finishing in the top 4 is all that matters. Let them have their moment, finishing above us for the first time in about 17 years means nothing really as long as we are also in the Champions League next season.
But nothing could wipe the smile off Emerson's face. He spent the entire journey home talking excitedly about Thierry Henry and asking why he cannot stay a little longer.
''His club need him,'' I said.
''But we need him too,'' replied Emerson.
We most certainly do, and hopefully he will return again one day. But in the meantime we have to prepare for a crucial Champions League tie in Milan on Wednesday before making the return trip to Sunderland in the FA Cup next weekend. With my pot due to removed this week I think I will drive to that one...
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