I COULD HAVE BEEN A TOTTENHAM FAN…

As a young boy, I had no one to teach me about The Arsenal.

My Dad was from the Caribbean and had no knowledge of football and my English Mum equally had little idea.

Mt grandfather had died when I was nine months old and when I showed an interest in football, my mind already made up on who I would support, my Mum told me how my father used to go to White Hart Lane on a regular basis.

It’s more than likely that he could have tried to convince me that my loyalties lay further along the Seven Sisters Road.

My uncle had been in the Royal Marines and as a very young boy, I was fascinated by the military, so my choice of team was entirely down to their crest having a cannon on it.

I used to use all my pocket money to buy Arsenal memorabilia but I lived in a part of Essex that was West Ham heartland.

I remember vividly the deafening chants for the Hammers ahead of the 1980 FA Cup final in the playground and being proud in my defiance as the only Gooner…all alone but defending the honour of my team.

With no points of reference, I actually thought at that point that West ham were a much bigger club and that I was cheering the underdogs, which was underlined by our defeat that season, even though I recall us winning it the year before.

In those days, I thought Arsenal were always in the FA Cup final so to hear it jokingly referred to as the Arsenal Invitational Trophy these days prompts more than a pang of nostalgia.

As my passion for the Gunners grew, I was fortunate that a family friend had a dozen season tickets in the East Stand at Highbury, so there were invariably spares and they were happy to take me.

The early 1980s was a strange time for a young mixed race boy to watch live football – I recall skinheads bundled into police vans while suited and booted fans made monkey chants and thought nothing of it.

Apart from the FA Cup after that final against Manchester United, I never really expected Arsenal to compete for trophies and while I loved the occasion of matches, the football wasn’t great fun.

I remember Terry Neill leaving, then Don Howe, and then the kids coming in under George Graham, who set about the task of transforming the club into the powerhouse it is today.

Having given up on the dream of becoming a professional footballer at an early age, I decided to become a sports journalist.

In only my second job, I worked for the sports news agency Teamwork (now combined with Hayters) who had the Arsenal contract to write content for the official Arsenal website and glossy magazine.

These were the days when the training ground was being built, so I spent many days at Sopwell House interviewing the players and Arsene Wenger and later also covered the club for the nationals, most notably for The Guardian.

Getting paid to talk to my heroes, the players who represented my team, was an incredible experience and while I did my best to keep my feet on the ground, I probably didn’t savour it as much as I could.

Having left journalism in the early 2000s, I finally got my own season tickets when we moved to the Emirates Stadium and ended up at a company event having a kick-around in a hotel with Henry, Vieira and Pires.

Wanting to maintain my professionalism, I didn’t ask for a photo with them all, something I regret to this day.

The move to the Emirates Stadium has been bittersweet.

I’ve been privileged to see some amazing moments - Henry scoring with a header as we beat Manchester United one Sunday; scoring the winner on his return against Leeds in the FA Cup; the Champions League win over Barcelona; and regular wins over Tottenham.

And I’m honoured that my memories of the great Frank McLintock adorn the outside of the stadium.

Of course, in recent years, results and performances haven’t been at the level we would have liked. The promise of competing at the same level as Bayern Munich seems as far away as it did when I first started following the club.

At least we have had some FA Cup wins, something we can cherish.

Hope springs eternal that we can compete for the Premier League title again sooner rather than later.

Now my young son joins me in watching every possible Arsenal game and I remind him of the the words of Rocky Rocastle: “Remember who you are, what you are, and who you represent!"