Alex Steine
'Reggie! Oi, Reginald! Fancy popping into the pub after work - just for a 'quick one'?' shouted Archie, trying to make himself heard above the clattering cacophony of the factory's machines. Reginald, mouthed back a 'yes' with the necessary head nodding. After 'clocking out', the two friends strolled up the hill on their way home, and detoured eagerly into their local. 'I'm in the chair, me old mucker,' insisted Reginald. 'Moneybags!' snorted Archie, as he sat down beside the open - hearth fire. 'It's all that overtime your section has been doing.' He studied the fresh metal cuts on his fingers, as his chum made a joke of tottering towards their table with two pints in his hands. 'There lad, get that down you, it'll put hairs on your chest - that'll probably make seven, or will it be eight?' Both men chuckled and took long draughts of their ale. 'Ah, that's champion.' both said at the same time, and laughed at the amusement of the coincidence. 'Yeah, me old mate, but not like the Arsenal.' ventured Archibald. 'I know, it's really buggering me off.' agreed Reginald. Both men sat hunched over their pints, as an air of melancholy settled over them. 'Supported them all me bloody life, Archie. Now look at them. They're not the Arsenal I knew. Why do they have to move ground? Nothing good will come of it, I'm telling you. Season over and nothing to look forward to, though the overtime will give me a few coppers more for a day out at the seaside with the family.'
Archibald looked a little apprehensive, he'd had this type of exchange before with his pal, and knew this probably wouldn't end well. 'Well it's all about finances Reggie. You know that. Bigger ground, more seats, more money, better players - why we might even win things! We need to get back out of the second division, It ain't difficult to work out mate. Anyway we've moved before, haven't we?' Reginald looked up from his drink and Archie thought there were tears in his friend's eyes. 'I know that Archie, but they are becoming soulless, these people running our club, bloody soulless. They'll probably change their shirts next, even their name will change I bet, I wouldn't put anything past them moneygrubbers - it's just a business to them. Bloody money. See they don't need us now. They've got this new owner, and I ask you, does he really care about us? Does he really care about our Arsenal? No he don't, it's all business to him.' Reginald, diatribe over, took a large swig of his beer, and Archibald reading the situation well, got to his feet, and made for the bar. 'Same again Reggie?' he called back over his shoulder. 'Aye lad, that'll do nicely.'
The two men had been sitting for nearly an hour now, chasing the conversation around and around, as they kicked it about, like an old, half-inflated football. 'I remember when they needed us - were glad to have us. Now they'll just get some new 'Johnny come latelys' to watch them, but they won't know the team as we do. They won't be proper fans, won't be connected, just bloody tourists if you like.' Reginald angrily complained. 'Tourists. I like that.' said Archibald, trying with a little chuckle, to placate his friend's ire, but failing. 'I can still recollect the good times Archie, me old son.' Archibald raised his eyebrows, 'Of course you can Reggie, why it was only just over a week ago when we saw them play the last game of the season, 'course drawing 1 - 1 with the 'Boro got us relegated, so I'm not so sure it was all that much of a good time.' Levity wasn't working, he knew reason was leaving his friend, with the alcohol consumed. 'You know what I mean Archie. Now don't get cocky with me. You're still only a whipper-snapper, lad.' Reginald took a 'dogged' Woodbine from behind his right ear. He tried to give his young friend a stern look, though he knew it wasn't working that well, they had too much love for each other though both men would shrink from the word 'love', insisting it was merely respect. Reginald then took his box of 'Swan' from his waistcoat and lit his cigarette.
Archibald adopted a different tack, 'Listen Reggie, we will be able to attract a wider area of fans, so will get more support...', 'Yeah, and more money is what you means.' retorted Reginald. 'Leave that aside for a mo Reggie. This Mister Norris reckons we are ready to go under if we don't move - it's a kind of survival, if you like. Anyway it means people will be able to travel in more easily once we move to this 'ere Highbury - you know, from the provinces.' replied the younger man. 'Next you'll be suggesting the blue bloods will be travelling in from places like Cambridge, leaving their horses and punts behind for the day.' snorted Reginald. 'Well not from that far afield, who would be daft enough to travel that sort of distance? I do think that some from outside of London might make the trip, say from distant places like Barnet and Borehamwood.' assured the younger man. 'The only thing that concerns me Reggie, is the closeness to that first division club, you know, those Hotspurs. We may not fare so well, having to live in their shadow.' The older man, spluttered at this, spraying some of his ale across the table. 'What's that you say? Why I don't ever want to hear the like of those words again young fella, never! You hear? We shall be in no one's shadow, ever! More as like they'll finish in ours, and never emerge from the darkness, bloody Hotspurs!', Archibald disguised a little smirk, he thought to himself, 'There's more than one way to skin a cat.' Reginald wasn't finished with his young friend. 'You just remember who you are young Archibald, and what you are, and who you represent. We are the Arsenal - even if not the Woolwich Arsenal anymore, but it counts for the same thing.' 'Got it Reggie!' Archibald smiled. The two men agreed on one last pint each.
'Thing is Reggie, there are more important things going on.' 'More important?' shouted Reginald in a too loud voice. He struck a defiant pose, planting his elbow forcefully on the table, he narrowly missed it, and it slipped off the edge poking himself in the eye with his admonishing finger. 'Sod it!' was all he mustered. 'This trouble in Europe, Reggie. I read an article and it said with all these alliances and thingummybobs countries have with each other, that if a conflict occurs it could develop into a world war. Think on that! A world war, the whole world fighting each other. Then who knows what we would see once the dust settles afterwards. I reckon it's why we've been producing extra munitions with all this overtime, these buggers who rule are planning something, and I bet I'm right on that one.' 'Won't see our Woolwich Arsenal that's for sure.' Reginald had strayed back to his main topic. 'That is already history. I bet they got some of these fancy - Dan players lined up already, those who won't cock a snoop at us poor old working class fans, you mark me on that!' remonstrated Reginald. Archibald leant across and took a piece of peanut shell from his friends chin. 'Had to take that off chum.' he said showing his friend the offending particle. 'Was distracting me.', he laughed, 'Hope it's the only shell you get near your mouth - no sucking on bullets.' The men laughed together.
Supping on their last dregs, a slightly more melancholy Reginald smiled across at his friend. He reached across and his gnarled and calloused hand patted his young compatriot's. 'We'll give it a go then youngster. We'll go and see this new Highbury Arsenal together. They can't take our feelings away from us, even if they bloody well change them a bit. ' Archibald nodded. 'That they can't, me old chap. Even if it was Sebastopol Arsenal it would still belong to us. Gunners we are, Gunners we shall always be, why we'll die Gunners.' Both men had difficulty standing, Archibald stumbling over the leg of Reginald's chair, mainly due to the clumsiness of his hob - nailed boots. Both men laughed heartily at the recognition of their drunken state. Clasping the smaller and younger man around the shoulder, Reginald said, 'Come on Archie lad, let's head home, your Ma will be blaming me again for leading you astray. Just you remember me old cocker, "Good old Woolwich Arsenal, for ever!".' 'That's the ticket, Reggie.' Archibald laughed as he grasped the arm on his shoulder, and they tottered out into the chilled evening air. 'Do you reckon Reggie, that sometime in the future someone will ever say, "There used to be a football club over there." 'Nah, my young chap, if they ever do they will be talking about some small-time team, mark me on that.' The sound of their steel-capped boots rattled on the cobbles, and the defiant, 'Gunners 'til we die!' echoed in the foggy, near deserted street.
EPILOGUE:
The two men did go to Highbury the following season, watching them win their first game 2 - 1 against Leicester Fosse, it helped ease them into their new home. The long road back to the first division had begun, in life's never ending cycle. Coincidentally, due to a nasty bout of influenza and work commitments affecting the younger man, Reginald went a little more often than Archibald. Despite their grumbles both loved it. The ensuing season saw Archibald conscripted to the front, Reginald followed two months later. Ironically the same time span marked their demise. Each cut down by a withering hail of bullets as on separate occasions, in different shell-pocked fields, they each led a spirited charge over the top. Poor strategy, and weak defences did for them. They were indeed Gunners 'til they died. Reginald was hit by a shell in the face. He would have laughed at the irony, had he been able.
