Howard Lamb
Ed’s Note - The new issue of The Gooner goes on sale today outside the stadium. The contents are detailed in the above link, however, as a trailer to our special feature this issue, stories about watching Arsenal matches in the midst of the opposition fans, here’s one that came in too late for the magazine. So we are using it to promote the issue - £2.50 from sellers on your approach to the ground and packed with quality writing by your fellow Arsenal supporters.
Behind Enemy Lines
West Ham 1 Arsenal 2 – First Division - 5/12/81
I had always enjoyed going to Upton Park, even when Arsenal were not the visitors; West Ham’s cultured attacking football, plus seeing the likes of Bobby Moore, Martin Peters and Geoff Hurst was rarely boring. But when I scraped in to our league game at West Ham on 5th December 1981 with only minutes to kick-off things proved decidedly different.
I usually stood in the Enclosure in front of the Boleyn West Stand. The view from around the halfway line was good and the terrace usually contained a cosmopolitan and sufficiently pleasant-natured mix of supporters. However, on this occasion, turning up just five minutes before kick-off, I was taken aback to find that the Enclosure terrace had been converted to seating since my previous visit. My options were to join the Arsenal supporters at the far end of the ground – and probably miss the kick-off - or take my chance with the home supporters behind the adjacent goal. I decided to opt for the latter. Big mistake. The atmosphere was tangibly threatening but I decided to zip up my jacket and tough it out. I’d been to West Ham often enough in the past and never experienced any problems. But then I’d never on previous occasions played the role of lone Arsenal supporter in a claret and blue bearpit.
The game itself started well for the Gunners, with a neat goal by Chris Whyte after only five minutes. I tried to look nonchalant, but from the reactions of those in the immediate vicinity my act couldn’t have been totally convincing. John Hollins’ penalty to double our lead just before half-time clearly confirmed the suspicions of a particularly belligerent-looking group to my right.
Despite all this, I somehow managed to keep them sufficiently puzzled about my loyalties throughout half time – filling in team changes in the programme - and most of the second half. However, when Stuart Pearson (I think) pulled one back for the Hammers with around 10 minutes left my cover was well and truly blown. My failure was twofold; firstly, I was unable to bring myself to celebrate the prospect of a late fightback and an underserved point for West Ham but more revealingly my immediate dash for the exit following the eye-to-eye contact with the above-mentioned opposition was a total giveaway. I had never before left a match early but this was no time for sentiment. My game was up and the only hope was to escape quickly and hope the gang would be sufficiently engrossed in the prospect of a late equaliser not to bother with me.
The dark, deserted back streets of West Ham are still firmly imprinted in my memory as I sprinted flat out for my car, not daring to stop or look back, so I have no idea whether or not I was followed. What I do know, however, is that it was the last time I went to a game at Upton Park.
Howard Lamb
