A perfect Sunday #104

Match day contrasts

Last Sunday I had the pleasure of watching Arsenal Women v Manchester City at the Emirates. The stadium an easy half hour walk from where I live in North London. So close, on a clear evening, I can pretty much tell the score from the roars and groans of the fans.

As I approached Arsenal tube, I joined the throngs of fans making their way to the twelve o’clock kick off. Men, women, children, families. A happy, positive, joyous vibe. So different to my first football experience at St James’ Park in Newcastle in 1989.

It’s 1989…

Imagine the scene. Me, a football novice, there with my devoted Newcastle United fan boyfriend. One of a handful of women in the sell-out cauldron, sorry, stadium.

This was before the terrible tragedy at Hillsborough, when the Gallowgate End was still all standing - a seething, jostling mass. I can’t recall who ‘we’ were playing but I recall vividly the scene I surveyed.

I’d never seen anything like it. Grown men all around me. Shouting, swearing, singing. Many drunk, eating pies or hurling insults at the ref.

The days when it was seemingly acceptable for sections of the crowd to sing “get your tits out for the lads” when an attractive young woman happened to make herself seen.

Demeaning voices alongside clever and cheeky football chants, celebrating or ridiculing the star players of the day - “We’ve got Mirandinha he’s not from Argentina, he’s from Brazil, he’s f**king brill”.

The atmosphere tense and tribal.

My alienation not helped by my boyfriend’s refusal to talk to me throughout the match so he could concentrate on the game…

The result win or lose, impacting the mood of the ‘toon’¹.

I quickly realised football in the North East is akin to religion.

And now…

Thirty-six years later, the Emirates told a different story.

I met my three friends at Gate J. Over engineered coffee cups in hand, we went in. The carnival atmosphere heightened by the appearance of the two rival teams. Teams sporting many of our beloved Lionesses - Russo, Mead, Williamson, Kelly.

More friends joined us just after kick-off. One bought her mum along who, rather brilliantly, played for ‘Donny Belles’ back in the day.

Olivia Smith put us one nil up in the 16^th minute to great applause and cheers. A goal which turned out to be the winner, moving Arsenal into third place in the Women’s Super League.

The mixed crowd of 39,000 had a ball. The atmosphere - fun, uplifting and brimming with possibility. Happy smiling faces - the Arsenal supporters anyway.

My half time Guinness with friends, followed by a(nother) pint and chips at a local Holloway pub after sealing the enjoyment.

High

Perhaps it was being with friends, the banter, the laughs. Maybe it was the brilliance of the players – their teamwork, skill and commitment. It could well have been the exuberance of the crowd. The thrill of a win.

Perhaps it was the break from the relentless unfurling of the appalling Epstein ring and the utter disrespect of so many women. Such vile misogyny contrasting with the acceptance and inclusivity of the game.

I don’t know, but I was on a high for a day or two afterwards.

Sport can be so uplifting and levelling.

You

As ever, I’m interested in you. Where do you stand on football – men’s or women’s? Who do you support and why?

And remember, you’re never going to be any younger than you are today. That sporting event you’ve been promising you’ll attend, why delay further? Just book it, now, you won’t be disappointed.

I’ll leave you with a bonus thought from the rather brilliant James Clear which echoes much of what 1000Weeks stands for:

“If you wait, will it get easier or will you just be older?”

Until next week my friends,

Ruth x

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1. The ‘toon’ is Newcastle in case you didn’t know :-)