The day, January 9, 2010, the matchup, Arsenal v Everton, those Northern punching bags who went down 6-1 in our season opener. The setting, a North London recently battered by freezing weather and snowstorms. In the days leading up to the match lesser teams acquiesced to the weather and postponed their matches--Liverpool v Tottenham, Hull v Chelsea--fourteen teams in total chose to stay in and sip hot chocolate.
But not Arsenal. The remnants of the earlier snowstorm were swept away and the weather, though frigid, was stable when we set off from East Finchley towards the stadium. As we arrived, loyal Gooners joined us on the Tube, red and white a secret sign of camaraderie; walking towards the stadium, past food trucks selling tea and bacon rolls and tables filled with Arsenal memorabilia, Gooners flocked together from every angle, young, old, foreign, English. A pre-game pint inside the stadium, costing less than that same pint would at good old Nevada Smith's, had us ready to brave the cold.
First, a few words on the stadium. Emirates is beautiful. All curves and swoopy angles, perhaps a bit more style than substance at times, but so stunning that you can't look away...a bit like Arsenal's own style of football. Unlike a place like Yankee Stadium or CitiField, the building itself is utilitarian. There's no room for those who would prefer a nice meal at the Shake Shack or hours of shopping for oversized foam bats; once inside the stadium, your options are hot dogs and pies, drinks, and programs. The true theatre is on the pitch, observed by some 60,000 fans--a far cry from the small, though passionate, group we're used to from New York.
And now, onto the match itself. Zorro Cat's already provided a thorough recap of the game, so I won't venture to do the same. The first Everton goal was demoralizing (especially as we were sat above the horrible Everton supporters); the Arsenal equaliser courtesy of Denilson was absolutely wonderful. By this point, we were shivering, but goals, as are their wont, did warm us up for a few choruses of "and it's Arsenal, Arsenal FC..."
I should note, at this point, that I was wearing:
--a thermal shirt
--a cable-knit sweater
--Arsenal shirt (obviously)
--a massive indie-granny cardigan
--tights
--socks
--jeans
--winter coat
--boots
--furry hat with ears
--gloves
--mittens
It was cold.
After halftime, which consisted primarily of everyone huddling in the indoors section and shivering more, the real fun began: it started to snow. And not just a few innocent flurries--it was SNOWING. And settling. The ball started to leave tracks through the snow, players were seizing up left and right--everyone, from Gooners to Gunners, looked absolutely miserable. However cold you think it may have been, well, it was colder.
The Everton supporters warmed up with their (incredibly frustrating for us) second goal, some tearing off their shirts and showing off scrawny pale bodies (and others getting thrown out of the stadium.) All hope was nearly lost until Rosicky's late, beautiful equaliser; the Everton fans shut up, the Gooners were on their feet, and finally, mercifully, the match was over, concluding with an announcement that the Everton supporters should leave as soon as possible, owing to the fact that the weather may have caused train cancellations...a final entertaining twist.
Red and white flooded from Emirates, dispersing to Tubes and Arsenal-only pubs already filling with supporters hoping to find something to gloat about in the Man Utd - Birmingham match (which they found in the 1-1 draw.) Next week, it's back to the pub: warm, only a few blocks from Emirates, but just lacking a bit of that magic we experienced last week.
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