Cesc We Hardly Knew Ye!!

Sometimes seemingly trivial objects can, over time, take on significance, an indelible link to the past, evoking hitherto unremembered events and investing them with their own peculiar energy.  In this case it’s a ticket stub.  This creased and worn piece of card informs me, with certainty and an indefinable logic, that on the 11^th of February 2006 I was seated in the North Bank, Highbury, Block 5, Row N, Seat 105.  It was the first time I saw Cesc Fabregas play.

They say if you want to have an adventure go drinking with an Irishman.  We will strike up a conversation with anybody, even the obviously insane, and we do not suffer fools.  Consequently the weekend was a catalogue of bizarre incidents, punctuated with encounters with strangers who would temporarily become friends, like the Portuguese guy in the Worlds End pub on Stroud Green road, who helped us solve the conundrum of roaming and telephone codes, a couple of hours later he would tearfully tell me of his profound homesickness and his love for Sporting Lisbon.  Needless to say he stumbled off into the night absolutely shitfaced.  The Gooners in the 12 Pins on match day, who somehow ended up at our table, drinking Powers whiskey with us and swapping brilliant stories of Arsenal legends.  The lady at the Arsenal box office, who on seeing we only had 3 tickets (between 6 of us), bade us wait and returned with 3 more, complimentary ones.  The Landlady of the 12 pins, the lovely Linda, who organized a taxi to pick us up outside our hotel and take us to the airport.  Even the friendly and good humoured Bolton fans who swapped enjoyable banter with us before and after the game.

Impressive as the Emirates undoubtedly is, I still desperately miss Highbury.  The smell of the grass, the brilliant intimacy of the place, and feeling like you could reach out and touch the players.  I remember walking up the steps that day into the North Bank and seeing one of our number, a battle hardened GAA man, with tears in his eyes as he absorbed the spectacle and the grandeur of it all.

I remember Lehmann, after pulling off a spectacular save, turning to us with a look of triumphant madness in his eyes, exhorting us all to, “Fuckin’ come on!!”  But most of all I remember the diminutive Spaniard, gliding over the pitch, pinging exquisite passes effortlessly into the path of team mates.  Pulling the strings as only he could.

I also remember the disgruntled fan shouting, uncharitably, at a rare misplaced pass,”Wenger why are you playing that fucking child!”  Some Gooners, eh?

But I come to praise Caesar not to bury him, and I think the best praise I’ve seen for Cesc was by Jamie Dalton on Twitter who said of him “He could create space with his mind!”  It is this ability to seemingly transcend the laws of physics that separate the good players from the very great ones.

I will choose not to remember the last season he had with us.  Instead I will remember, that goal against Tottenham, the goal in the San Siro, the game against Juventus when he had Vieira in his pocket, coming off the bench against Villa to change the game for us, the penalty against Barcelona, maybe he hasn’t done enough to earn legendary status in the pantheon of great Gunners, but maybe, just maybe, he isn’t finished yet.

“Once a Gunner, always a Gunner.”  – Cesc Fabregas (via Twitter) 16/08/2011.