Being born and raised in Plymouth until the age of twelve, getting shipped off to my auntie’s in Clapham Common for half term, summer and Easter holidays was always greeted with much enthusiasm. The capital excited me in away that Plymouth never could and seem to offer everything I thought a person could want, how could you be bored? Upon visiting Highbury for the first time I was completely smitten. There was no match on that day but seeing a football ground hidden by the surrounding homes and businesses captivated me. It seemed like the hub of the community and I imagined what it must have been like to live in one of those houses with something so grand and important at the back of your garden. The only ground I had visited prior to this was Plymouth Argyle’s (who I still have a large soft spot for today, oh the irony of the FA Cup draw) and I can assure you that Home Park resembled a glorified garden shed back in 1989 and nothing compared to the spectacle that my eyes feasted upon that day. I felt homesick as I travelled back to the West Country a couple of days later. Truly London was great indeed.

As my dad was in the clergy we moved around a fair bit but still mainly sticking to the West Country boundaries. After leaving Plymouth in 1991 we settled in Cirencester for five years and then Cheltenham for five and I have been in living in Swindon since 2001 as this is where my job is. It was never actively encouraged by my parents for me to attend football matches and by the time I reached fifteen this became almost intolerable. But thanks to good old auntie we became members of the Ticket Registration Scheme at its inception in 1997. By this time I was living in Cheltenham, attending sixth form college during the day and working behind the bar of my local (I was 17 at the time but it was clearly a very forward thinking boozer despite the landlord being a Spuds fan) four nights a week just so I could afford the train fare (my mum would be rather understanding when it came to chucking me a few pounds as well I cannot lie), match ticket and a little beer money. I have been attending ever since and felt very fortunate to be able to watch Arsene’s team over the last eleven years.

Many contributors to The Gooner have scoffed at fans such as me over the years, just because we aren’t from London. In their eyes we seem to have no justifiable connection to the club as we weren’t born on the Holloway Road and didn’t grow up next door to Charlie George. For those of you fortunate enough to fulfill these criteria I salute you but do not think for one moment your passion is deeper than mine and other fans like me. Financially we go through a lot to get to watch Arsenal; this is not a moan merely a fact. We have attended on a regular basis as this club strikes the same chord, passion, feeling, spark (delete where appropriate) that it does with you and if anything it may be greater in our case as we feel the need to travel great distances just to get a taste of it. I feel that I, and others like me, are just as important to this club as the rest of you. I may sound like I’m trying to justify it to myself as much as you but I am sick and tired of being painted with the same brush as the recent batch of fans that seem to be infesting Ashburton Grove at the moment.

I have never felt as embarrassed as I did during the Wigan game with the treatment of Eboue by our supposed own supporters. I was surrounded by group of teenage girls who just talked all the way through the match and thought it was highly amusing to change ‘Red Army’ to ‘Salami’ whenever that chant started. There was a large group of blokes, about ten of them, in the next block who just hurled abuse at any player on the pitch. I am no fan of Eboue but how can you boo your own players in your own stadium? The word counterproductive doesn’t quite cover it really. The same reaction happened when Almunia saved that penalty against Villa only a few weeks before. What on earth is going on? It pained me even more when I met my usual group outside the Lord Palmerston afterwards and some of them actually thought the booing was justified! A few heated words were exchanged until a few beers calmed us (well me) down.

Kevin Whitcher has made some very valid points over the last few months regarding Le Boss’s myopia, tactics, team selection, failure to enter the transfer market and letting the dressing room (when did we start calling them dressing rooms for heaven’s sake?) splinter into different factions. The supporters are now splintering into different factions and that really cannot be good. Clearly Wenger has to take responsibility for some of this and I for one would be happy to see the back of the likes of Eboue, Diaby, Song, Gallas, Almunia, Adebayor (one swallow does not a summer make) and Bendnter but I am never going to jeer them at my own ground. What sort of fan would that make you? I tell you what sort of fan it makes you: the same sort of ignorant socially retarded morons that I was surrounded by in the last home game. If you want to let off some steam, save it until afterwards in the boozer and stop embarrassing me and every other real fan who pays money to support our team and not intimidate them in their own back yard.

While you’re at it stop contacting Radio 5 and talkSPORT and telling that idiot Spoony and the odious Adrian Durham about how hard done by you feel because the players earn a hundred more times than you and that there’s no connection to the players or the club. Rightly or wrongly that time passed a long time ago. They don’t make them like Stuart Pearce anymore, no one comes into football in their early twenties having been a working man and appreciating the passion of the common supporter. Today’s players are practically grown in a test tube and have no idea of the outside world.

I have known lads who have played for League One and Two sides over the last six years. Please do not kid yourself thinking they share the same passion as the supporters just because they play for smaller clubs, as a good majority of them have the same shallow outlook and interests as most Premiership footballers except on a fraction of the budget. All players have good days and bad days at work just like you and I do, the difference in wage packet doesn’t change things. We only ask that they give it a 100% in every game, it isn’t always going to happen so live with it. Football is and always has been in essence entertainment and just because we’re on the brink of recession do you see anyone in the entertainment industry taking a pay cut just so they can empathise with the rest of us? Erm, that would be a ‘No’ then!

I now find myself, like many others, about to enter the great chasm of being financially unwell. Put in plain English, I’m possibly about to lose my job and even if I do manage to keep it I will have to accept a 40% cut in wages and a second job will be required pronto. Unlike most people, I will hold my hands up to over indulgence over the last five years living a lifestyle I could clearly not afford, most of it spent on Arsenal. I cannot complain, I only have myself to blame, BUT having witnessed so many memorable games, watched so many great players and made so many close friends I do not regret it for a moment. The only regret I have is that I wasn’t able to attend during the days of Rocky, Smith, Davis, O’Leary & Co.

So, unfortunately the FA Cup tie against the Argyle could well be my last game at ‘The Home Of Football’ for some considerable time. Sure I’m going to be back, but nowhere as often as I would like because of the financial situation I find myself in. Yes I’m going to be able to watch it on TV and in the pub (beer tokens permitting) but it’s really going to churn my stomach (and it’s a big stomach make no mistake) knowing that I wont be there lending my support as I have for the last eleven years. In some ways it seems a little ironic that it’s Plymouth that we will be playing. It almost feels like everything has gone full circle. I’m only 29 and have a sense of perspective but this is genuinely how I feel. I was only down there two days ago for my Granddad’s funeral (going to miss you Pop) and spoke to some of the Argyle supporting mourners who are stupidly excited about coming up to ‘that there London’ and playing us. It’s a big, big day out for them, they’re going to enjoy every second of the game and wont stop supporting their team for a millisecond. I just wish I could say the same of us lot.