Last weekend I went to my first ever Arsenal match.
It's not that I'm opposed to watching live football. I watch our son, Joss, pounding the pitch almost every weekend.
It's just that, since the children were tiny, Ninesh has always taken them to the family enclosure to watch his team. It's something the three of them have always done together, while I had a whole day of freedom.
Firmly of the opinion that early indoctrination is the best way to prevent his flock from wandering and supporting the wrong team, Ninesh took them to their first match when Mia was 5 and Joss was 3. And his plan worked because all these years later Mia and especially Joss, are die-hard Arsenal fans. Joss, who at the moment is a teenager of very few words, can wax lyrical on the tactics used at last night's game or on the impact of Walcott being injured (again). Although Joss is now too cool to wear his Arsenal shirt, I am part of a family where every member is, inwardly if not outwardly," proud to be a Gooner."
And the truth is, over the years, I have become a closet Arsenal fan too.
It's impossible not to be pulled into the noisy cheers and jeers that fill our living room when an Arsenal match is on TV. Ninesh, who remains cool, calm and collected when moving countries, interviewing for a new job or organising big meetings ,becomes a nervous wreck hours before an Arsenal kick-off. Over the years I have learnt to keep my distance and say as little as possible until after the game. A bad score can cause a cloud to hang over us for days, while a victory can make the most boring day a celebration. With so much emotion crackling around me, it's hard to resist the red and white pull of Arsenal.
" You should come to a match." Ninesh started saying when Mia was 6 and Joss was 4.
" It's such an amazing atmosphere," he said when Mia was 7 and Joss was 5, " I just want you to experience it."
" Mia and Joss would love it if you came too," he said, using 8 year old Mia and 6 year old Joss as his utlimate weapon..
And so the campaign became three pronged with Mia, Joss and Ninesh all offering me reasons why I should come to a game.
For over a decade I resisted, standing firm,clinging onto my day of complete freedom.
But somewhere deep inside the closet Arsenal fan was stirring.
" Just come out," it whispered, " one match won't hurt. Just one."
And that is how come I was there, last Sunday, sitting right at the front of the enormous Emirates stadium where the grass is so green that it's hard to believe each blade has not been lovingly painted by the head groundsman.
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| Emirates Stadium, where the grass is always greener |
" We hate Stoke," explained Ninesh happily, " ever since Shawcross broke Ramsey's leg."
" Oh," I said, absent-mindedly turning to look at the dads and children sitting in the rows behind us , wondering jealously what their partners were doing with their free days.
" Walcott's not playing," said Joss, looking up from his phone to share the news, " he's sick."
Mia seemed unsurprised as everyone else by this information.
" I'm so glad you're here mum," said Mia, squeezing my arm, " it's nice not to be the only girl."
But her words were drowned out by the roar of the crowd as Ozil, Arsenal's newest favourite player ran onto the pitch. .
" Everyone likes him," explained Ninesh.
"Really!" I said.
The only thing louder than the cheers for Osil were the boos for Shawcross when he arrived on the pitch.
" Everyone," hates him, explained Ninesh.
"Really!" I said.
"And you have to boo every time he has the ball,' added Ninesh.
" What if I don't want to?" I asked.
Ninesh just looked at me and without answering turned back to the game.
And I have to admit the atmosphere was amazing, like a party where everyone arounds you shares something in common with you so you know, for this afternoon, you have 40,000 friends and you don't even have to make exhausting small talk.
Every time Arsenal nearly got a goal we had to stand up and cheer and every time Stoke nearly got a goal we had to stand up and gasp and when Arsenal did get a goal ( 3 altogether ) we had to stand up, jump up and down and shout important things like:
" oo are ye, oo are ye!"
And when Stoke finally scored, we had to sit down and clasp our head in our hands in despair.
And we were so near the front that when Ozil took a corner we could almost reach out and touch him which meant that Ninesh got lots of good shots of his back.
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| The most popular back in Arsenal |
But it was awe-inspiring to watch the skill, energy, passion and sheer physical endurance of both teams, although of course Arsenal was much better at all them.
And when the final whistle blew and Arsenal won 3-1, I was right there, part of the red and white wave of noise that filled the stadium.
" We are top of the league, we are top of the league."
" Are you going to come again mum?" Joss asked as we drifted towards the tube station,
jostled by the crowds. " You enjoyed it didn't you?"
And the truth is, I really did, although I don't know if I will go again.
Days off are too rare and too precious.
But now, whenever the rest of the family go, a little part of me will always be there with them- standing up and sitting down, booing and cheering.
Because after all these years, I think I at last understand what it means to be a football fan.
It's not just about wearing a shirt or having the most expensive players.It's not even about winning all the time, although that's nice. It's about something else, something bigger than us.
It's about sharing a passion.
It's about having something to believe in.
It's about fidelity (relationships may come and go but once an Arsenal fan, always an Arsenal fan).
It's about dreaming a dream that just might come true.
It's about never giving up hope.
It's like belonging to a family that you have chosen, instead of having it forced upon you.
It's a phrase that is twee and overused but when you are a football fan, you honestly
" never walk alone."
These are hard times for lots of people. People might not have a job or money or a home - but they will always have football.
I can't help thinking that the closet Arsenal fan in me has been well and truly, forever outed.
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