Blood For The Cause

A match in North London yesterday saw blood split in the name of passion and exctasy

And no we're not talking about Robin van Persie, or any other player for that matter, we're talking about yours truly.

The result itself, and the timing of the goals meant that game will live long in the memory, the feeling that came over me, and 57,000 other Gooners in the stadium, and the millions around the world is the exact reason we watch football. Anything can happen at any time, and it usually does.

The 'bundle' that occurred in the south stand upon Thierry Henry's header finding the back of the net was like no other. I was held up in the air, thrown down on the floor, stood on and ragged around by various adrenaline fueled gooners.

Yet it wasn't till 20 minutes after the final whistle that the injury occurred.

I promised my mate I'd give him a special mention today, and I'm not one to break a promise.

Upon arrival back to the coach at the top of Highbury Hill, Big John Stones decided there was sufficient time for one last 'bundle' before the coach departed.

Accidentally (I hope) the big man, in a fit joy, sent his rather large shoulder crashing straight into the end of my snout.

Blood ensued.

As did the laughter.

But it was worth it.

Cheers John ;)

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