Take heart, Gooners. After all, isn't that how you got here in the first place? We often forget or fail to recognize how life as a Gooner began. How does any passion start? It's like flicking a switch: a personal connection is made, the feeling is electric and a light turns on. Unfortunately, we may also lead the rest of our lives walking the thin line between "love" and "hate" for that devotion. This is my story.

As a youth, I was a budding footballer. Not surprisingly, that skill did not impress anyone in the 1970's living near Wayne Gretzky's hometown of Brantford, Ontario. As I grew taller, basketball captivated me. This bent for another un-Canuck sport (Steve Nash had not been invented yet) led me to play on the varsity team at university. As my athletic career bounced along, I became only a casual observer of professional football, usually English clubs. The beautiful game was becoming a distant memory, a curious spectacle in the park or on television. While no longer under its spell as a young man, the child in me was nevertheless paying attention - however remotely.

Once I realized no one would pay me to play basketball, I moved onto law school, a legal career and raising a family in the Ontario tundra (that's dramatic license, because global warming probably has gotten rid of most of the tundra bits by now). Still no football and, in particular, no Arsenal (sorry, sorry, that was probably a shock to your system; I'll warn you if it's about to happen again). But everything changed when, on my first vacation to London, I made an unscheduled trek to Highbury.

Why make such an impulsive decision? Footy is not bred in the bone in Canada. I lived my entire life in a country where the favourite four-letter word is "puck". Where the British battle cry, "W*nker!", and the customary retort, "Sod off!", cannot be found in any Canadian dictionary (in either of our official languages). I have no family connections to England, nor did I grow up in a football-frenzied environment (the parents of my first-year roommate at university were born and raised in Scotland, so he was the first person I encountered who bled club football, occasionally blurting out names which sounded like he was possessed). I credit my journey to Highbury's doorsteps to serendipity. A wonderful discovery made by accident. You may sense that my internal compass had guided me to North London, that I was coaxed by the unseen hand of fate to Arsenal Stadium, the spiritual centre to complete my unfinished business with football. Bollocks. I took the Tube.

In any event, anyone's "first time" is meant to be enjoyed (settle down and keep it clean, this is the sentimental part). Mine was an incredible sensory experience - crawling the local pubs before the match, savouring the hot dogs and onions served by street vendors, pushing through the world's heaviest turnstiles, witnessing the lush green of that historic field, breathing in the crowd's energy, blissfully standing at my seat and smiling at, well, everything. Highbury gets into and stays in your blood.

There has been so much spoken and written lately about our club's present and future, the lack of steel in the midfield, losing our grip on a Champions League spot, the far-reaching financial burden of the new stadium, Henry not actually signing a new contract, etc. etc. Tired yet? Sure, that may be what's happening now, but it's not why we are here. For me, Highbury turned on a dormant switch, shedding light on The Arsenal way. Remember your spark? It is a highly personal gift. Was it one event, one person, one moment or several? It's time to explore your origins. After all, it's the reason why you consider yourself a Gooner, why you are stealing a few minutes away from reality now (careful, I think someone's coming), and why you are still reading this piece.

Here's the challenge from a Gooner grown in, of all places, Canada: pay a heartfelt tribute in the final months to Highbury in 2006, by sharing your story. Tell it out loud. Write it down. Bring forward some of that unconditional passion in the club. And, no matter how the Gunners fare on the pitch, this will be a season to remember.