a strange title: the final salute.

Went to Highbury stadium the other day, home of Arsenal. They're about to put it out of commission, building a fancy new shiny modern stadium about a block. I'm not an Arsenal fan. Absolutely hated them a couple years ago when my ardour for Manchester United was at its frenzied height (we're talking about crying when they sold Juan Sebastian Veron/Becks and skipping school to watch a big game on the telly). But they've grown on me, and Thierry Henry is a stud. In the fact that he's an excellent, professional player. So, we had nothing else to do and we went to Highbury. . . And it was brilliant! There's something about being there, about being where so many dramas took place, where I imagined thousands and thousands of people gathering with anticipation before a match day. I thought of Nick Hornby walking there, and I recognized the street where floods of fans celebrated after a well played match in the 90s Colin Firth 'Fever Pitch' movie. It was magical, really. And we didn't even get to go inside. Just goes to show the power of football in England. Oh, I love it. I love it.