Well what a great night that was at Underhill. Fantastic atmosphere, a win (although we did have to wait a while for the goals to come but I'm not complaining) and Eddie's long-awaited comeback all for the price of... absolutely f**k all, although I did have to put a couple of quid on my Oyster card given that my travelcard only covered zones 1 and 2. And pay for a cup of tea that scalded my gloved hand (followed by me shouting f**k, b******s and s**t and struggling to get my glove off asap) but to moan about those two little financial setbacks would just be picky, even if my hand's as sore as hell.

In times of economic hardship, London being London (in other words, f***ing expensive!) and God's upcoming celebration of 2008 years of dodging child support payments to Bethlehem Social Services, it's a bargain especially given it's essentially the Carling Cup batch that you're watching but for free.

Sadly he had to come off at half-time but thankfully it was a totally non-ankle related. But if he might have been put off by Eboue's treatment against Wigan, I hope last night's reception makes him realise that we're not all like that. He did well, showed a couple of nice touches and was unlucky not to score. The only annoyance was that he didn't give us more of a wave given we'd been chanting his name most of the time in between the usual chants of 'The w***y Tottenham Hotspur went to Rome to see the Pope...' and other chants mostly relating to Cashley's sexuality or clinic results.

It was also nice being able to chant Rocastle's name without some 30-something yuppie asking me who Rocky was (which did actually happen in the Carling Cup game against Wigan, which says a lot about some of the home support at The Grove). That said, it was great being able to start any chant for that matter and not have people gawp at me in shock and disgust as if I'd just got my bum out and wiped it with their prawn sandwiches (and to those 'fans', I would just like to ask, what the hell are you doing at a football match anyway?).

But therein lies the difference. Whilst a lot of fans were just there to see Eduardo (and I'm not going to claim otherwise in my case), the atmosphere was different on many levels and it's to do with the kind of fans who turned up. Even though we had to wait a while for the goals, there was no lack of singing as you'd expect at The Grove when the team isn't winning comfortably. We stood and made some noise without having some health and safety nerd in a hi-viz telling us to sit down and be quiet.

There was one fan (heavily involved with the singing) I got chatting to in the queue for that near-fatal cup of tea who was there with his young son, who for some reason thought I was Santa despite my facial fluff being brown and shorter than jolly Saint Nick's as well as having a smaller belly (for the time being, anyway). Having been a Highbury regular back in the day, he said he was lucky to make it to six home games a season these days.

In their quest to match United in terms of prawn sandwiches and profit, the club have overlooked the vocal, old-school fans such as him (who may not be as well off as that yuppie) and they have been the ones who have suffered in recent years. There were also a lot of young fans there (teenagers, mainly) who contributed heavily to the singing and also don't get to as many games as the Grove's prices and ticket schemes cater for people such as that 30-something yuppie who have no idea of the history of Arsenal before 1998.

I know people like him are the ones who can afford to pay lots and contribute towards paying off the debt but as the atmosphere at some games shows, it comes at a price and the atmosphere can spur the boys on, as they have shown when the Grove has been more vocal. If the board really are concerned about improving the atmosphere, then they could do a lot worse than re-thinking their ticketing scheme in order to accommodate the young fans and those like the one I spoke to in the queue. Those are the fans the club should focus on attracting to the Grove and the less of those yuppie 'Who's Rocky Rocastle?' t*ssers, the better.