A view from the Emirates

This past Sunday, the second day of the aptly named "Emirates Cup", 60,000 football fans all packed the Emirates stadium, all back to see one man, Thierrey Henry! The French striker, arguably the greatest player in Premier League history was back after 3years. After leaving Arsenal to join Barcelona, Henry completed his cycle of accolades winning the Champions league (the final trophy after the World Cup, Premier League and the F.A Cup). Now in New York, plying his trade for the Red Bulls, becoming third memeber of the trio (Beckham and Donovan) as the three big names to help to promote the game of "Soccer" across the pond.

Arriving at the Emirates after the patented crowded London tube system where oxygen and space are seldom to say the least, and passing the street vendors and fanzine sellers, the concourse of the marvellously constructed stadium lies in front. A spacious, state-of-the-art arena, more than an upgrade visually on the decrepid, yet somehow charming surroundings of Highbury was entering it's 6th season as the home of Arsenal.

Onto the games themselves, the first of which pitted the Argentine giants Boca Juniors, the 23 time champions of Argentina matched wits with Paris-St Germain, who with there new middle-eastern investors find themelves as a Machester City type figure in French football. The game itself, not much of a contest, as when i got too my luxurious, padded seat (wasn't in a executive seat, just the norm) 2 minutes into the second half, the side from the Fremch capital were 2-0 ahead, and cruising to a comfortable victory.

With the match almost a non-entity, which with all truth, these two teams were in regards to this tournament, it was the small troop of Boca Juniors fans wildly cheering and celebrating there team with a consistent 45 minute chant partnered with the twirling and bopping of umbrella's creating a lively, colourful atmosphere doused in blue and yellow. For the Arsenal fan's unsure of how to react, they stared at these fans like they were a crying child, as if they were the outcast of the supporters at the ground.

As the match drew to it's conclusion, and PSG notched a 3rd goal to complete the dominant outing against there South American counterparts. Then onto the main event, Arsenal against the favourite son, the son garnering a monumental ovation as he ran onto the pitch for his pre-match warmups. The warmups ran there course, the player exited stage left to the tunnel and the crowd prepared for the two teams retake the field.

Before the players could enter the field, I underwent a wave of shock, met with embarassment and comedy as the Emirates announcer started announcing the Arsenal 11. When announcing the players starting, the PA would call the first name, then leave the crowd to shout the surname of the specific player, a intricacy questionable on it's own, let alone when they got to new Ivorian attacker "Gervinho" and the hilarity of splitting his name into two. The speaker roaring a "number 22..GER-VEEN" met with a shameful "YOOOOO" from the gooner faithful,

As the game started and the pre match love-in with King Thierrey ran it's course, the Arsenal fans, not notrious for their atmospheric, decibel-smashing ways tried to start there inventine chants of a montonous "Arsenal", followed up with "Come on Arsenal" before stealing the show with the totally unique " Stand 'ap if you 'ate Tottnum",  in my best attempt to write a cockney accent.

Arsenal scored just before half time, Dutch talisman Robin Van Persie (who then got a chant of his own) found the net with a header, although, without heaping too much praise, it should be noted the Red Bulls' goalie was so out of position, he may aswell have been in Scotland with his pathetic jusdgement cllecting the cross.

In the blaring sunshine, the Arsenal stewards surpassed any before them, and soared to the top of the pantheon of "idiotic set/mind-numbingly stupid" as three men were jettisoned from the stadium for removing there shirts in the intense London heat. Rather than asking the gentleman to put their shirts back, the stewards, two of them, strolled down with a unnecessary sense of importance and removed all 3 for an offence, that if Van Persie committed after his goal, would've seen him cautioned, not sent-off.

After a quiet game, Thierrey Henry who with an array of intelligence and skill put a through ball on a plate for tricky, pacy winger Dane Richards whose cross was converted by Kyle Bartley into his own net, to give Red Bulls' an equaliser, and what turned out to be the tournament-winning goal. Undoubtedly a bittersweet moment for Henry, was met with fans in two minds of wheter to celebrate or voice there frustration on what was unfolding before them, they did both!

The whistle went on the game, and the Arsenal fans further embarassed themselves with a chorus of boo's, a sign of discontent on the goings-on at Arsenal. Arsenal fans, depreived of any real trophies, as a friendly tournament they host against a clusterfuck of average teams doesn't count in any shape or form as success.

On the whole, a magnificent stadium, with astronomical pricing, being occupied by a teamand a set of fans who don't seem up to the task of doing justice to what came before it...sounds a bit like the national team, doesn't it?