So, back on the Away Day road and back to travel reality from the surreal days of the 2012 Olympic Games when all underground lines ran without engineering works. The District Line was closed for fixing stuff, so Dad and me made our way to Upton Park via the North London overground line and Stratford. That station was nicely tarted up to make the IOC believe that we were investing in infrastructure, but just a couple of stops away, West Ham, Plaistow and Upton Park looked slightly marginalised by the Olympic party.
Arriving at the ground a few minutes after kick off – due to the Hammersmith and City Line moving like a snail, and West Ham not giving proper directions for the away fans – we took our seats, I mean standing places, behind a group of drunks who were singing loudly (and got steadily drunker throughout the match). The Arsenal Away Crew were in their usual good voice, with a new song dedicated to Santi Cazorla (to the tune of The Vieira Song, and pronounced incorrectly).
West Ham took the lead, and the home support perked up a bit which lead several Gooners around me to make that sign that relates to masturbation in the direction of the East Stand. The Arsenal players kept calm and pushed for the equaliser, which came when Lukas Podolski crossed to Olivier Giroud to score his first league goal. Emulating Thierry Henry in taking eight or nine games to net the debut. This lead to another new song;
“Na, na, nananana, nananana, Giroud.” (I don’t need to tell you that tune, unless you live in a cave with earplugs)
Then it was half time, and I attempted to get a drink. However, the downstairs area at Upton Park is not big enough to hold a few hundred fans desperate for a half time beer. The nearer I got to the refreshment bar, the more I became squashed between men twice my size, eventually I gave up and went back to my seat.
The drunks arrived back as the second half was kicking off, with bottles in hand (something an officious steward pulled one out of the crowd for). After a nerve-wrecking few minutes of West Ham attack, it became clear that Andy Carroll wasn’t going to hit the barn door, no matter how many paces he was from goal. We didn’t panic and left the defending to the Big Friendly German and his telescopic legs.
Theo Walcott came on and was released down the flank. One on one with Jaaskelainen, the ball left his foot, hit the back of the net and one of the drunks fell on me. You can’t jump around celebrating so easily when a fourteen stone drunk has landed on your leg. A few minutes later, Cazorla was in plenty of space outside the area and fired in. The drunk fell over again, knocking me and Dad over and breaking one of West Ham’s cheap plastic seats. As the match entered the second minute of stoppage time, we got as far away from the drunks as possible, just in case they did any more falling around breaking things.
As the final whistle blew, we left Upton Park trying to avoid the horse shit on the pavements.
rithompson
Gooner Girl on Tour 