[Book Review] Rebels For The Cause — The Alternative History of Arsenal Football Club
Part I – A Fan's Foreword
It was on one fateful afternoon, Saturday 15th May 1993, that I was struck by 'Love at first sight.' No silly, I'm not referring to my two girlfriends, Kelly (my neighbor) or Catherine (my classmate), and the 'puppy love' we shared. Rather, it was while sitting in front of the TV, somewhat fortuitously (my mum was in and out of the kitchen cooking moi-moi) as Arsenal was playing in the FA Cup Final. This was the first time my five-year-old self had attempted to watch a football game for a full 90 minutes.
The atmosphere, the fan chants, the so-so weather, all made for a pleasant and memorable afternoon. Ian Wright ('Wrighty,' henceforth), who was to become an iconic figure in my mind, put the gunners 1-0 in front on the stroke of the 20-minute mark, before the talented left-footed striker, David Hirst drilled a low effort beyond the reach of the advancing goalkeeper, David Seaman, in the 60th minute. With the scores level at 1-1 the game went to a replay five days later.
There was something about Wrighty's swagger that resonated with me. Arsenal won the replay 2-1, courtesy of another Wrighty goal, before a deflected Chris Waddle effort, drew the scores level, thus taking the tie into extra-time. Gunners center-half, Andy Linighan's goal, his side's second goal, was enough to secure a hard-fought win. It was an FA Cup win which contributed yet another trophy towards the Gunner's record haul of 14 FA Cups (as at 2024).
As the seed of my love for Arsenal germinated, I also found myself supporting AC Milan. Given the strength of Serie A, arguably the strongest and most capitalized league on the planet, they perhaps just about edged Arsenal as my favorite team. I couldn't help but find myself captivated by the likes of Paolo Maldini (my dad was insistent on me studying his game), Zvonimir Boban, and somewhat later, the Liberian great, George Weah. However, the emergence of a certain former Ajax, and later Inter Milan, Dennis Bergkamp, wrested my primary 'loyalties' away from Milan and to the eternal owners of North London. Admittedly, my older sister partly influenced my choice (she'd make for a great talent spotter, I tell you!)
Bergkamp was spectacular. He first came to spotlight when he impressed at the 1992 European Championships, where he finished the joint top-scorer with three goals, narrowly missing out on a place in the final, following a penalty shootout loss to Denmark (the game finishing 2-2 prior to the fateful shootout). Nevertheless, his achievements had catapulted him into the consciousness of many football spectators across the [football] World. He followed this up with a string of impressive performances during the 1994 World Cup Finals qualifying campaign, scoring five goals in the process. Holland secured a second-place finish in [UEFA] Group 2, two points ahead of England in third-place, who in the process missed out on a place at USA '94.
I recall the time, late 1993, quite vividly and it making for a rather bittersweet experience: even though I was very young, I recall my dislike of the media's borderline abusive treatment of the then-England manager, Graham Taylor, at the worst of it, calling him 'Turnip head' / 'Turnip Taylor'. Moreover, I really wanted to see Wrighty have an opportunity at a World Cup, given he was a late bloomer, having moved to Arsenal as a 28-year-old (nearly 29) and it was likely to be his last chance as he would have been 30 years old at the start of US '94.
Despite my disappointment on behalf of Wrighty, the bittersweetness — emphasis on sweetness — was Bergkamp being given another opportunity to showcase his abundant talent on the world stage. That he joined Arsenal off the back of an underwhelming second season at Inter Milan, breaking the club's record transfer in a £7.5 million deal, and thereby becoming Wrighty's strike partner, somewhat made for a more palatable trade-off.
The appointment of Arsene Wenger, through the remarkably impressive and persistent endeavors of former Arsenal Vice-Chairman, David Dein, in September 1996, ultimately cemented my support for the Arsenal, without any equivocation. Wenger's first name, Arsene, sounds remarkably similar to the club's name, Arsenal, leading my young mind to wonder if he was also the club's owner. However, I quickly abandoned this line of thought as it raised more questions than it provided answers. I then wondered if his parents had a sense of prescience, perhaps sensing his potential future career path. After all, I've lost count of the amount of times I've heard someone say there is something in a name. Ultimately, I concluded his parents either had prophetic abilities, or it was a mere, rather amusing, 'coincidence'. That said, I'm still not entirely convinced that there is such a thing as coincidence.
As I transitioned through my formative years, I was privileged enough to enjoy more Arsenal successes, along the way being fortunate to have watched Nicolas Anelka, Marc Overmars, Patrick Vieira, Emmanuel Petit, Thierry Henry, Robert Pires, and Nwankwo Kanu, among several other stars.
Arsenal, unlike their enduring rivals (1997–2004) Manchester United, lacked the steep pockets needed to compete with the biggest clubs, both domestically and continentally, for the best talent available on the market. And there are several examples that can be adduced that emphasizes the chasm: one such instance is Juan Sebastián Veron's transfer to Manchester United in 2001 for £28.1 million. It took Arsenal 12 years to match or exceed this fee when they signed German World Cup winner, Mesut Ozil, from Real Madrid for £42.5 million in 2013.
Such was Arsenal's financial constraints, it is undeniable that they punched above their weight (not talent, just finances) during their joint domination of the Premier Legue with Manchester United from 1997–2004. Given this gulf in finances, Arsenal were tasked with having to be financial creative in financing the construction of a new stadium that would bridge the gap between the club and its better capitalized rivals.
Arsenal's immediate former ground was the Highbury Stadium, which became their home in September 1913, having moved from their former home in Plumstead, Kent (later becoming part of South London), the Invicta Ground (home between 1890–1893). They would remain at Highbury until May 2006.
Highbury had a capacity of 57,000 (at its peak, 60,000) until the early 1990s. However, in the wake of the Taylor Report (the inquiry following the Hillsborough Stadium Disaster in April 1989), Highbury, following the introduction of new Premier League regulations, were obligated to scale back their capacity to a 38,419 all-seater stadium. The capacity was further reduced for Champions League fixtures to accommodate additional advertising boards. Such was the reduction, Arsenal elected to play their Champions League home matches at Wembley stadium, which could accommodate up to 70,000 spectators.
Amid the football boom that was taking off in the 1990s and transcending into the 2000s, Arsenal had a legitimate fear of missing out on potential revenue, such were the constraints of the above regulations; thereby being left behind by the elite of global football.
Resultantly the club went about exploring the possibility of expanding Highbury, but the Grade II listed status of the stadium's East Stand, and the close proximity of residential buildings to the remaining three stands, rendered such efforts a non-starter.
Eventually, having exhausted all other possibilities, including buying Wembley, the club acquired the former industrial and waste disposal estate in Ashburton Grove in 2000. A year later, in 2001, they secured planning permission. Some hiccups interrupted the construction process, namely financial and opposition / concerns from local businesses and residents alike. However, support forthcoming from the likes of Mayor of London, Ken Livingstone, and the sustained, often subliminal slogan "Let Arsenal Support Islington", often deployed in the backdrop to Arsene Wenger's press conferences, appear to have had the desired effect. With a change in the tide of support, construction resumed in 2004, culminating in their move in time for the 2006/07 league campaign
This foreword – unusual for a book review, yet here we are! – was essential in illustrating my love for the club.
Oh, and I should add, it was always a dream of mine to play for Arsenal. I initially wrote to the club as a 12-year-old asking for a trial. Surprisingly, they wrote me a reply. Though at the time the club had enough players in my position(s) – left-back, left-wing and center-forward – they said they'd keep tabs on my development. I took their statement with a pinch of salt and was more than contented with what I believed was an unlikely reply. I subsequently spent time at several academies and centers of excellence over the span of a few years.
Remarkably enough, Arsenal, via a third-party scout / intermediary, did reach out to me five years down the line. Eerily, everything I told myself would never happen, funnily enough began to transpire. The same third-party initially secured me a contract offer with the Millwall FC development squad, however, observing my ostensible lukewarmth, he spoke no more of it. A couple of months later, the Arsenal opportunity arose. Off the record, I was sounded out about a two-year contract with an option of a third year (in total a 1-year youth training scheme contract, with a maximum of two years as a young pro); the figure mooted was around £800 per week, pre-tax, though we never discussed the finer details of goal, assist and appearance fee bonuses as I didn't want to take it any further, much to everyone else's incredulity.
Now some of you reading this understandably may think this account of events is scarcely believable, and this is totally fine with me. I would likely think the same position if it was someone else giving this rendition. However, to provide context as to my mental state, I had no qualifications (the result of extraordinary sabotage which I still marvel at two decades down the line); unjustifiable homelessness (through no fault of my own); the trauma of having had carbon monoxide poisoning some months prior and consequent respiratory challenges, in addition to other adversities, contrived to produce the perfect storm. Given the preceding five years had been hellish, and now I had finally left a secondary school I was dragged kicking and screaming to due to vested interests, I sought forms of escapism. In the face of sofa and floor-surfing, I alternatively chose to work at Queens ice rink, a telesales company in Totteridge and Whetstone (North London), and languish in Carshalton Athletic FC's reserve team.
Trust me, the prospect of dislodging Ryan Smith and Jose Antonio Reyes (God rest his soul) was an unenviable task; one I would have needed reservoirs of resilience and stability to have had a chance of realistically securing first-team squad status.
Sure, I could spend time wondering what could have been, but that would be futile. In any case, I'm happy to settle for watching the Gunners play and I'm enthusiastic about my imminent review once this particular post is uploaded.
Thanks for reading!
©️ Diego Ifé | 2024