Arsenal vs Birmingham City

Match

Watching this game at the Emirates on Saturday, October 16^th I was completely dumbfounded when Birmingham City scored the first goal at the 33 min mark. Looking at the mounted clock I actually began to wonder is this going to turn into another loss? The feeling in the pit of ones stomach to see the away supporters goad us made me stand up in my chair and like everyone else tell them to get stuffed – although not in such a polite manner. But at the 41^st minute Scott Dann who without a shadow of a doubt whilst on the ground stuck his leg out and fouled Chamakh. That was most probably the only saving grace about the referee – Martin Atkinson – who was making the strangest decisions that day. Anyway, Nasri took the penalty and just before half time we had levelled. The most spectacular goal of the month has to be the interplay between Wilshire and Chamakh. Wilshire trapped the ball upon his chest before dropping it to his feet and deftly passing into the firing line Chamakh. Because if Chamakh’s angle of attack and the two defenders coming at him he tapped ball and what can only be described as Dennis Bergkamp-esq, performed a 180 turn to tap the ball with his left foot into the goal. I believe it has to seen to truly admire this goal. Not exactly an easy day in the office especially as Wilshire as given a Red card – studs up challenge – for his sloppy tackle against Zigic. No doubt in my mind he deserved to be sent off for that.

Observational Research

Due to the London Underground engineering works taking place that day, I decided to take a circumferent walk which would take my favourite coffee house ‘Café Nero’. Whilst waiting in line to order my hot chocolate I noticed a child who was adept at ordering a coffee to her specific liking. As I observed her – I reckon she was about 11 maybe 12 (ideal age for my character in my story ‘Aahna’) who had a large soft faux-leather handbag (which looked rather big), neatly combed hair which a large fat pink paperclip like hairclip. I noticed on her right hand was a faded drawing of a heart with some writing. I began to think about my character Aahna who is still raw after the death of her mother. Seeing the hairclip and the faded drawing on this girl’s hand I realised that having the story take place 6 months after the mother’s death was too long. I really liked the idea of Aahna retaining the drawing on her right hand because that is the last fun thing she did with her mum before she died. By taking care not to wash that hand she was trying to preserve her mother. Going back to the girl at Café Nero, what was visually ironic – dressed in skinny jeans + skirt, ugg-like boots, smart jacket, straight combed hair, hair clip, large handbag and a scribble on her right hand. That scribble on her hand is her link to her youth and innocence. In a world that is constantly evolving and children are said to be growing up far more quickly than in previous generations, it’s quite refreshing to see a kid who still acts like a kid. Why is the important? In my story, Aahna is a mould of her loving mother – like most daughters are. Aahna has been imprinted with a certain look / style that incorporate her mother as well as Aahna’s own style. Now that her mother is gone, all she has are the basic tools left to her by her mother. So for Aahna, this ritual of combing her hair for example is not just so she can look nice in the mirror, but it’s actually her way of remembering her mother and the act of combing her hair – like her mother used to – is her way of remembering her.

Outside Emirates

When I got to Emirates the rain had died down. The whole area outside of the stadium entrance had a shine to the place which was reflecting the bright sun off all the wet surfaces including the concrete ground. It was a lovely crisp day but I wished I had worn more suitably warm clothing as sitting for 2 hours you do start to notice the chill and the breeze.

What is quite startling about these photos I took was how blue the sky was that day. All of us hate the rain and there is nothing worse than to be stuck in doors when the heavens open. But to be outside on a crisp day once the rain has ceased and you’re presented with an azure blue sky as rather uplifting.

Now, I can’t and won’t dictate the weather in my screenplay but I’d like to take the emotion I feel observing this weather and place that in the realm of the arena or use that emotion for the character.

Clockend

For the last few games I’ve been extremely lucky to get tickets in the Clockend (South). There are three reasons why I love being here:

1. Above you is the large replica clock that used to be situated in the Clockend at Highbury.
2. The banter at the Clockend is awesome. You can feel, taste and hear the anger & joy of the crowd. It sometimes feels that the heartbeat of the fans starts at the clockend.
3. We are within shouting and pointing distance at the away supporters which always gives rise to some violent verbal remonstrations between the two. I use the term ‘violent’ to depict the emotional response that both teams give to their teams and not ‘violence’ as is in a throwback to the 80’s face of football.

In this photograph (to my immediate right) you can see the quadrant with the away supporters on the lower tier. In this case the away supporters are in blue. So you can see that we are in viewing distance of each other. It was pretty awful to see these clowns go mad after Birmingham scored the first goal. They went absolutely nuts. I just sat in my seat looking in disbelief. It was at this moment that two women Arsenal supporters (20’s) stood up and begun waving two fingers at Birmingham City fans. Whilst I found this quite amusing what I noticed on one of the girls wearing a thin red hairband with an Arsenal motif. I never knew such a thing existed (maybe because I’m not a girl!) and immediately I thought that would be perfect for Aahna as she gets ready for the game, perfect!

This was an emotionally charged game and I must admit for some Arsenal fans the goading going on between the two was a little terrifying but in an exciting way. In front of me were 4 guys who during the second half of the match would not sit down. They were chanting, dancing and swearing till they’re blue in the face towards the Birmingham City fans. It transpired that they were absolutely drunk. My Sherlock deductions led me to the base of their feet where many small mini-bar bottles of Jack Daniels were laid wasted. Now I know why the guys were slurping so much cola. In my story, if the relationship between Frank and Aahna is already strained, and the only way the two really can communicate is when they’re at the football ground what would happen if this sanctity was broken with these four idiots disturbing their view? Something I need to think about.

Frank and Aahna

After the game I decided to hang around and walk around the grounds. I wanted to find a perfect picture of Frank and Aahna. Something that I could refer back to during the writing of my screenplay. I am always intrigued about the distance between two people and nothing is more perfect than these two pictures listed here. These photographs are taken before the game and after the game by ‘The Spirit of Highbury’. This large monument depicts the entire Arsenal squad starting from its inception in 1886 right through to present.

The first photograph was taken around 2pm just after the rain died. The blue is such dominant colour which is reflecting off all the wet surfaces. You feel relaxed and calm. It has those soft colours associated with being on holiday or somewhere relaxing.

The next photograph (the child’s face has been digitally altered to preserve identity) is what I believe are my characters Frank and Aahna. She is looking directly at the camera avoiding Frank who stands appearing to eat something. He stands like a towering guardian over Aahna but the two never share a single word. This is such a great photograph as you can read as much as your creative mind will allow about their relationship.

Emotional Depth

These three photographs kind of depict the emotions that I want to portray in my story.

The first photograph: The dark clouds vibrate with a haze of blue and the stream of sun that partially lights the ground. Those clouds have robbed the daylight and to me I feel a sense of loss in this photograph. Something that we take for granted has now been taken away and no matter how difficult it maybe we need to continue. I feel for Aahna in this photograph as she has lost her mother. She doesn’t know what else to do but to carry on…but to what extent can she carry on if she doesn’t have anyone to guide her properly – i.e. Frank, her Dad. At some point Frank must stop being the 100% man and try to take the place of his wife to support and nurture Aahna otherwise their relationship will be broke beyond repair and Aahna’s childhood irrevocably ruined.

The second photograph: Looking at these clouds which sit independently of each other lit up by the Sun, I get a sense of isolation. How hard is it for Frank to maintain a place to live yet work so many hours to keep hold of it? For me, Frank feels even more isolated when they lose their family house which was the tipping point for Purveen’s suicide (Aahna’s mother). They now live in a 2 bedroom flat in an unsavoury area. Not only are they isolated financially, but from their neighbourly friends and more important they are isolated from each other.

The third photograph: A sense of longing. The warmth of that Sun is what all we humans crave for. To be blanketed in warmth to give us protection from the outside world. No matter how difficult this journey is for Frank and Aahna, by the end they will be together. Through Frank’s transformational change and coming to terms with Purveen’s suicide he will forge a greater emotional link with Aahna.

Arsenal vs WBA

I don’t believe any Arsenal fan would’ve predicted this outcome: 3 -2 to West Bromwich Albion. To watch this game unfold before my eyes only brought more anger and spittle being ejected from me. What on earth happened to us today I have no idea. We lost a perfect opportunity to close the gap between us and Chelsea as they had lost to Manchester City : 1 -0. The fans were at fever pitch and we knew the WBA game was an easy bag for us. In fact, on the train journey down from Putney I bumped into a Fulham fan (who was off to see Fulham vs Everton) and when he realised we were playing WBA his last infamous words were – an easy three points. I’m no BBC Sports pundit, but even having our midfield consist of Song, Diaby and Eboue was certainly disconcerting. We simply didn’t have an attacking midfield option and especially these players as they don’t have the accuracy that Fabregas, Nasri and Wiltshire posses. But the biggest let-down has to be our keeper. For the love of God, why does this buffoon always leave his goal area. It was this stupid move that allowed Odemwingie (WBA) to slot home a win. Reeling from that goal it must have been less than a minute and half before they scored again. The third WBA goal was made when Alumunia came rushing out to the right of the box which made a perfect opportunity for WBA to square it to one their players before netting their third. It was at this point that some Arsenal fans had given up hope and began to leave as it was already 73 mins into the game. Nasri pulled off a miracle by netting 2 goals in the 75th min and one in extra time. But we could not equalize in the time given to us and so it ended. We lost. 3 -2. It was my first Arsenal loss in the Clock End. How did I feel? …… Inconsolable.

Observational Research

Coming out from the Station I was visually assaulted by the mass of red and white that lined the street. You also can’t avoid the number of Police Officers which eye all the tube passengers as they disembark the station. I had to pull over to one side and take this photograph – Gillespie Road – which shows the mass on a typical match day. I also took some audio as we entered the Arsenal football grounds via the Gillespie Road entrance – click here to listen. On listening to this I was surprised to hear the hullaballoo of the noise change drastic tempo as we walked up the steps and on to the walkway to the stadium. This is the calm before the storm. Two things are happening at this point in relation to the sound: The noise of the street is being dampened as we move up and away, and secondly the sight of the majestic stadium stuns people who for some they immediately begin to pull out their cameras and fire off rounds of shots. I decided not to hang around outside as it was quite cold so I entered through the turnstiles.

As I walked in I made my way to buy some water and then stood near one of the overhanging flat screen Sony tv’s to watch Manchester City vs Chelsea in High Definition. It was only 2pm and there was an another hour to kick-off I wanted to see Man City kick Chelsea’s butt (which they did – Yeah!).

As I watched the game, I noticed a tall man with his son. The father was a pencil like figure wearing a yellow Arsenal away top over a light weight blue hoodie top. He had mid-length dark brown. His jeans were kind of interesting as on his left rear pocket (it’s Obs Res okay!) was emblazoned an English flag with the number 66 – referring to when England won the World Cup. His son was rather androgynous looking. He must have been around 6 or 7 years of age and wore an adult size Arsenal home shirt which hung just above his knees. Like his Dad, he wore his shirt over a lightweight blue hoodie top and he sported a fancy pair of Nike football trainers. As I observed the two I noticed the father was having a pint and his son drinking a bottle of Pepsi. They both stood in front of me watching the game overhead. But there was no contact between father and son. The father was such an imposing figure that he casted a protective shadow over his son. Now an again, the father would briefly look down at his son who was transfixed at the screen. I was thinking about how the father and the daughter in my story would act in my story. It’s so amazing to see a father and his progeny spend this quality time yet there is nothing to be said between them. It’s a lovely image that I want wring the essence and place in my story.

Taking my seat in the Clock-End (to the right of the goal and 20 rows from the pitch) it was nice to be a little higher than previous. 25m to the right was where the WBA fans were fenced in. During the game there was the usual tirade of amusing abuse being thrown from the clock-enders to the WBA fans and back. Our chants are singing were completely drowning them out. Being in the clock end, you get to learn some new chants and one of them was ‘Shut-up, sit-down….shut-up, sit down’  to the tune of Big Ben’s chime.  But this all changed when they scored their first goal. They went mental. But when WBA scored their second goal their fans went ballistic with joy. It was like watching a circus act of derange caged animals. This infuriated the Arsenal fans and many of us got up to stick two-fingers and various other hand gestures – but let’s face facts they were in the lead. One of the WBA fans, who was an extremely large fellow with man-boobs took off his shirt – for some unknown reason – and started to rub is belly and his man boobs. This caught the clock-enders who began chanting ‘You fat b***ard’.

But football is about passion. And the passion’s mercury was at boiling point when Nasri scored our first goal on the 73rd minute. With the second being netted in the 92nd minute we all just exploded. I was screaming for them to at least net a third. Please let’s equalize and not lose to this team. I was shouting, screaming, swearing, spittle being ejected as I chomped down harder on my chewing gum. The Arsenal fans were standing. One woman to the right of me was so alarmed at the game that she covered her face. The intensity of the game. The shear hope that we can get one more goal in. The team fighting for possession. The clock counting down. The Arsenal screams of ‘Come-On’ and ”Get it into the Box’ and ‘Shoot’ was our braveheart moment.  But it was all in vain as the referee blew his whistle and I stood there shaking in the realisation that I had witnessed a defeat and it felt so utterly bad. I came into the game positive and enthused but I came out low, angry and I was bloody cold.

In my story, the father and daughter make a series of visits to the stadium. It’s the one area that they have anything in common. The rest of their relationship is very toxic as it’s been 10 months since the mother took her own life. As they visit the stadium, we’ll see their relationship change especially as they are both reacting to their loss in different ways. Watching us lose this game today I began to think what would happen if I was angry, or I was with someone in which our communication was fairly limited.

Imagine what that relationship would be like post-game? Somebody would inevitably say the wrong thing to the other, or something may be misinterpreted and construed in an ill manner which would affect the relationship. In my story the daughter who is around 8 years old refuses to talk to her dad. The only discussions we see / hear are the ones that take place at the stadium and they are all football related but have a subtext quality that infers the state of their relationship. Also, I want to tie the losing and winning of the games into their relationship to give it an emotional punch for the audience. I’m really angry that we lost,  however I’ve been able to salvage how I felt and hopefully can press that into my story.

Walking out of the stadium and making around to the exit back to Arsenal tube station I took this photograph.

When I got home I looked at the photos I took. In my haste to take photos while walking hurriedly you’ll notice in the above photograph the man in the green hoodie in the foreground. The next photograph, below, has this interesting shot:

Maybe a possible ending shot of the story. The father reconciled with his daughter at the last match and they both walk off together. The life now starting anew. Maybe?

Arsenal vs SC Braga

The last Champions League game I attended at Emirates was back in March when we played FC Porto at home.  That will go down in history as a terrible game for the FC Porto team and their supporters as the score ended 5 -0.

I had pictures that SC Braga were going to give us a very difficult time. This Portuguese team is noted for its large number of Brazilians who play in this team. And let’s face facts, Brazilians are noted for bringing two great things to the western world: The famous ‘Brazilian’ wax, and obviously footballing greats. I was expecting them to give Arsenal a very hard time and my expected goal result was 2-1 to Arsenal. However, I was stunned to see that not only did we win the game, we completely clobbered them with a final score of 6 – 0!

It all started so badly for Braga in the 8th minute when our striker, Chamakh, was felled in the penalty area. Fabregas took the penalty and we were 1 -0 up. On the half hour mark Arshavin netted a second.  Chamakh made an awesome goal at 34 minutes, and half time had not even blown. In the second Fabregas scored and later  Vela came on for Arshavin where Vela scored 2 goals. Incredible game. I was ecstatic about the score and had to be restrained from singing loudly in joyous praise of my team. It will be interesting when Arsenal visit SC Braga as they have one of the most beautiful stadiums which is hewn into a rock face! A little tit-bit of information, SC Braga’s coach in the 1920’s was so impressed of Arsenal and its Highbury stadium that on his return he ordered the team to adopt the new red and white so they could assert their new identity. They were also known as ‘Arsenal do Minho’.

This was a strange atmosphere for me as first of all I was up in the rafters watching this game. It was brilliant to watch the game at a good birds eye viewing but the atmosphere was a bit a dead. Unlike the atmosphere down at the Clock End during the Bolton Wanderers game, there was so much singing, hurling fun abuse, and good banter. I was really missing a lot of that football spirit up so high. At this level there also appeared to be a lot of non-regular supporters i.e. those that happened by chance to buy a ticket during the public sale. It’s good that Arsenal can offer tickets to the public (after priority given to its members) but the atmosphere was lacking.

It got me thinking about my 30min Obs Res (yes, you were most probably wondering when I was going to discuss writing!) and whether I should also look at the location within an arena to create the best atmosphere. Even though the atmosphere down on the lower terraces is phenomenal, if you’re located at the North Bank or Clock End, then your viewing will be restricted because of the parallax phenomenon. Anything happening at the other end is impossible to discern – however there are some people who are ordained with such great eyesight that they’ve been able to bypass parallax and give us a running commentary!

Imagine spending money to realise that the view is good but the atmosphere is lacking? For the first-timer they would never notice the difference. But for the connoisseur footie fan they would most probably be livid. But suppose the atmosphere is actually linked into the participants that are attending? A Saturday 3pm match is going to have a very different feel to a Champions League match at 7.45pm in which the general public can buy tickets, and because the match takes place late evening it’s also cold! That was the weird thing that I noticed the cold. I was layered up but still cold. One of the main reasons is the undulating shape of the stadium is very prominent at that height (to let air into the stadium) so you really feel the cold air seeping into your bones.

Maybe that’s something I should think about in my story – the location of where the father and daughter sit to watch the game.

Arsenal vs Bolton Wanderers

In my mind this was it. This had to be the day. I had a lot riding on this match and it wasn’t just the fact I wanted us to beat Bolton and come away with the desired three points. It was in fact a great game and Arsenal beat Bolton 4-1! The unfortunate thing was we picked up two yellow cards whilst their man, Cahill, was given Red and sent off. We should have scored more goals but in the end I was happy we got our three points. This time I was seated in the ‘Clock End’ (South Side) slightly to the left of goal. It’s a terrific vantage point as you get to see the goals being scored at such close range plus any corners awarded. The atmosphere in this part of the stadium is utterly different to that experienced in the upper wing of the West Stand – where I was seated during the Blackpool game.

To the left of my seating area was the Family Enclosure where kids can watch the game with their parents. Although they have a great view it doesn’t protect them from the hurling verbal abuse that is poured in vein at some of the players – including ours. Foul language and vitriolic hurls of abuse are simply a rite of passage.  You never hear the kids use foul language but you do hear them throwing in their own thoughts about a player which is quite entertaining. Some of you who maybe reading this maybe disappointed, or for those that are prudish may even feel disgusted that in the modern 21st century such shananigans sill exist, but to me this is what we football fans crave for. For all that money spent on watching your team play you want them to do well. It’s your hard earned money that has allowed you to enter through the turnstiles. It’s your time spent away from whatever you want to do. It’s your committment to the team. Of course you should vent your spleen when your team are playing rubbish. It’s your right. But for others they take the ownership point a little too far and begin to scream advice. Like for example in the second half, our poor keeper Almunia – who was once highly regarded but has now decended in the ranks of its fans’ support – was being howled at by some idiot behind me who kept throwing advice such as ‘ Almunia, talk to your players. ‘You need to f***ing talk to your players. Taklk to them and let them what you’re doing.’ There was an incident in which Almunia did not clearly communicate to his centre back which could have resulted in a goal. It was quite disappointing to see, but to have this chap behind me thinking he was Arsene Wenger sceaming advice it seemed to have done the trick.Over the last few weeks, since the Blackpool game, and I have been on a downward spiral of thought processes about areas that were lacking in my observationa research. I had noted that there was very little in the way of actual observation of the characters who come here and that had to be my focus today. I needed something credible to directly show that my story was not simply going to be a shoehorned idea.

On my way to the game, I had come across a man and his son who had just crossed over the pedestrian crossing to my side. As I was walking towards them I noticed the man gently taping his young son over the head with some instrument. The boy, who must’ve have been around four, was looking up at his tall father but he appeared to be squinting as the Sun was brightly shining into the little boys’ eyes. As I got nearer, I realised the father was actually trying to aid his son with his glasses. The father had a bag of shopping in one and with the other he was trying to glide the glasses onto his son’s ears but kept missing as the little boy was being blinded by the sun each time he looked up. The glasses eventually went on and the little boy was so pleased that with his new found vision he began to run along the pavement while maintaining a safe not-to-far distance from his father. I found this scene quite touching and wanted to remember this for the Obs Res screenplay.

Before the game I spent some time walking around the perimeter taking voice notes and paying more attention to the people around me.  Just by the Clock End entrance overlooking the Armoury – Arsenal Merchandise Store – I noticed a dishevelled man by himself was anxious and appeared to be waiting for someone.

In this photograph he sits in a very agitated state. Defensively postured with his arms crossed he’s looking out to his left in anticipation the person he’s waiting for will arrive. Even with an hour to go something is causing him concern

Here, he tries to relax and lean forward but his gaze is fixed still to the left. During this whole time he’s not looked around and it’s been several minutes of me surreptiously observing him.

This is my raison d’être for being here. This photograph in all its simplicity can tell a whole story in itself. It was not long after this photo was taken that the man got up, he was rather unsteady on his feet and unshaved, that we walked off. There was something about these pictures that began sparking my synapses about the story of the father and his son and how attending the games is a vital component in their bonding. I was thinking that suppose he had promised to meet his son around this time, but due to him prioritising a night’s boozing session he missed the opportunity to spend a day with his son who might be in care, or his ex-wife has custody. I have a good friend of many years, that when his son was much younger this friend of mine never spent time with his son during his early years. It was around ’94, and I remember my friend looking in newspapers at private car registration plates. He was determined to find the perfect number plate so when his son turned 16 he could give his son this great present. I was only 24 at the time and I diplomatically mentioned that when he turns 16 the last thing he’ll want is a father who abandoned him and then turns up with a private car number plate.  He’ll be livid and he’ll not want to talk to his father. I asked him what was his fondest memory of his father. He didn’t have one. I then asked if his father gave him any great advise for life.  He looked at me and said: “My father’s only advise was never buy a second hand car from a man wearing a sheep skin coat.” He went on to tell me that unlike my family which was all about education and ooking out for each other, he had an awful time with his Mum and Dad and was still very bitter. My only solace to him was that I hope he found a way to put aside his difference with his ex-wife and make more of an effort to be a dad to his son, as I’m sure his son is desperate for that. The upside of that story is that my friend has a great relationship with his son and even though I’ve not kept in touch that much I asked him recently and he’d just attended his sons university graduation and was thinking about buying him a car, in which I joked about the number plate scenario all those years ago….

During the game I noticed something kind of odd about the stewards (wearing Orange jackets) that monitor the game. When you first enter the grounds there are stewards standing with their backs to the pitch facing the crowd. For those of you that don’t know, it’s a criminal offense in the UK to enter the pitch during play.

Then he’s still standing just before the game commences.

And then during the game itself you can see him standing. Usually he will sit down with his back against the billboard facing the crowd. I think at this point he stood up as the half-time whistle went. I was so intrigued about this because suppose you’re a huge fan and all you ever wanted to do was to work at your local football club. And suppose you did, but the job you got was in fact this! There was something quite traumatic to think about regarding my story about the father and son. In my story I have him trying to make a perfect life for him and his son which revolves around football, but then something terrible happens and he loses contact with him and just the point he gets this job. And the end scene of him facing the camera, but as the camera pulls away we see that he has his back to the action.

This got me thinking about the character and sounds. I was thinking that the start of the film should have the sound coming from behind us. This character never faces up to his responsibility and as such everthing is happening behind him. Only when he does face up to his responsibility he’ll never see a game and is forced to watch the crowd and keep them safe, when instead he should have been trying to keep his son safe. There is something very symbolic and powerful about this ending scene which sums up this man’s character.

I managed to record some sounds to get a sense of Emirates and its internal and external surroundings.

1. This was recorded walking around the Armoury outside. Many people like to sit around outside the merchandise store and read the engraved supporter plates, meet people and general milling around. Click here

2. Inside the Emirates just as you pass the electronic turnstiles. Here you can buy your food, catch up on the latest games being broadcast in HD and nearby was a betting shop. Click here

3. The Video & PA System blurting out about Junior Gunners (kids membership) “The future of this great club”. Click here

4. The gladiatorial video exploding through the PA system announcing all the great wins of previous Arsenal games of yesteryear to get the blood pumping of the upcoming match. Click here

5. The crowd during the game. Click here

Dandelion Park and Arsenal Museum

On Sunday 5th September,  I decided to make a visit to Emirates – Arsenal Football Club.  I’m still scratching my head about the story and I felt I needed to make a visit on a Sunday. I was thinking this could be a good prelude considering the following Saturday I will be there to watch Arsenal play Bolton Wanderers.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I never really noticed the existence of Gilespie Park as on match days it’s closed. There is a main entrance to the right of the Drayton Park ticket office and it’s here that I decided to enter and walk up into the park area. My primary rationale for visiting was to see the home of Dandelions. It’s now 4 weeks into the Premier League, Autumn is upon us and I was hoping to see the state of the Dandelions and to get some inspiration.

Walking into the main nature reserve / park I walked past a large wind turbine that has been erected by the council as part of its green initiative.  The large blades propelling, slicing the air faster and faster as gusts of wind threw themselves against this stalky beast. I walked on further and entered the meadow and was pleased to see that there were many Dandelions still seated into their stems.

It’s quite an astounding sight to see this many Dandelions and it makes you think that at this point in time will they simply remain rooted to their stems and fade away, or will they pluck the courage and let themselves go on the next gust of wind to be taken away to far place? Are the Dandelions symbolic in some way to the character journeys that are yet to be planned for the story of the father and is son?

It was very peaceful sitting in the park. All I could hear was the gentle breeze of the wind and the brushing of shrubs against each other. I was thinking whether this should actually be the start of the film. The sounds of a kicking football, the cheers of the crowd and the Dandelion makes its lift-off from the park. I also had this crazy idea that the Dandelion maybe moves and comes into contact with the different people who will appear in the story, but it’s not until later that you realise that those scenes are yet to come – i.e. the dandelions is telling its own story through the initial 3-4 minute scene but the people it comes into contact with will have their stories told in greater detail during the 30min short.

I was getting a pit peckish so I sat on the ‘Circle Seating’ and opened a bag of crisps. Finishing the crisps I just sat in silence. To experience tranquility in London is a very surreal experience. No one was around but me.

As I sat I looked across and could see the old Highbury Stadium with one of its Art Deco stands  eclipsed by the rows of trees.

And to my right I could see the new Arsenal football club. It must be one of the very few clubs – or the only club – in which the old grounds and the new grounds are only a few minutes walk apart. All around me I surrounded by shrubbery, grass, peacefulness and then the sound of a train….

I got up and walked over into another meadow and to my right was a bank of houses whose rears backed onto the park. On the right was a high scaled fence separating the railway lines from the park. And in the middle was the meadow. It’s strange as it reminds about the layout of the Musee D’Orsay with its left and right flanks followed by a central aisle.

Looking at the Dandelions it was difficult to discern if the flowering part was still alive or whether they were truly in the throes of death. It really made me think whether in some cases plants / living creatures who are not ready for change will do whatever they stop the inertial change. Whether we like it or not, life is constantly evolving and changing but there will come a point when this will cease to happen. I was also thinking that as these Dandelions are close to the railway track maybe the force of the speeding train my influence the lift-off trajectory of some of these Dandelions towards Emirates stadium??

I also recorded some interesting sounds of my feet walking at a normal pace against the gravel ground. The sounds of breeze rustling against the plants. I also recorded a train coming to a standstill. Listening to this now (as I write this blog) is so strange because it’s the sound you expect to hear at a railway station and not near a natural park. There is something quite dramatic about this sound and the others I recorded that I’d like to use them in the script to play against people’s expectations maybe.

I walked past a father and his son who must’ve been around 3-4 years of age. The young lad was walking at a slow pace and was pulling back against his father’s arm. He looked like he was getting bored and wanted to be picked up. But the father was very gentle with his son, egging him on to continue walking a little bit further. I wondered how lonely it would be if life was just the son and father? Maybe, they had lost their mother, or maybe it was always the two of them and they had moved into the area and making new friends is always tough so for the time being it’s just father and son taking a stroll through Gilespie park. The bond between father and son is generally very strong and let’s face it our fathers always like to live vicariously through their progeny.

I made my down into the Stadium and I decided to visit the Arsenal Museum, again.

The Museum is not that big but it’s broken into two halves – like a football match! The first half concentrates on the history of the club and the great players of the time. The second half focusses on the club’s achievements and the greatest games it has played.

One of the areas I’m drawn to is the concept of passing the mantle between father and son. This concept was hammered home further when I read this piece about the rites of passages for young boys that graduated from the schoolboy enclosures (we call them Family Enclosures today) to the terraces which is described as a ‘wall-of-noise’.

So why was I here? What kind of Obs Res was I hoping to achieve? I’ve discussed a plethora of feelings about football including some abstract thinking. But, for some reason I’ve missed one very important feature – the fans. Despite the spiralling costs of attending football games, it is the fans who make the club. It is the fans who pay to see their club. It is the fans who will pass on the bastion of honours unto their own children to ensure the mantle is carried on through the generations of support. I wanted to be at the Museum to really understand and feel the passion of the supporters. My rationale that by understanding more about the history of the club I can try to relate more to the supporters – who will be in their tens of thousands at next Saturday’s game.

As I walked around the museum taking in all of our heroes that have graced an Arsenal shirt since the inception of the club back in 1886, there is a great sense of awe about how this club came to prominence. It’s no denying that had it not been for Herbert Chapman’s great eye for finding talented footballers from all walks of life and a good financial eye we would not be seeing an Arsenal today. You walk around and there is a great sense of pride at what this club has achieved. And, if you look at the great players who have donned an Arsenal shirt there is a great sense of pride. At a very basic level, this is tribalism. These are all the totems of this tribe. The great battles adorned on the walls. To inspire support, trust, faith and to remind every one of the past. Again, looking at the father and son relationship I ask myself what would happen if the father is using Arsenal as a way to get closer to his son. His son my be disinterested at first, but perhaps after a while the son begins to understand his dad and through this understanding begins to have an attachment to the club. This could be used as the anchor in which the mantle is passed between father and son, perhaps?

I spent the last 30 minutes strolling around the stadium and two things caught my eye. As I arced from the North End to the Clock End of the stadium, I could see the edge of the national park that actually encroached one segment of the stadium outer area. I could see tall thick green shrubbery covering the train tracks. It was surprising to see how close the train is to Emirates and the national park. I looked out Dandelions but could not see any. I felt relieved about this as I have this interesting idea for the opening of the film to see a Dandelion moving across from the park, interacting with characters before falling into the Emirates at the start of a game. The second strange thing I saw was the images of demolition. It seems the area around Emirates is in massive redevelopment phase. It’s quite an ugly sight and when you think about the clean lines of the stadium in the middle of a building site it’s quite a disturbing juxtaposition of images for the brain to handle. I’ve never noticed this building work and can only assumed that within the last few weeks this work has accelerated most probably to clear the way to build more modern flats in the vicinity. Looking at the demolition site you can see it used to be former houses and a small industrial estate.

I need to focus on the supporters at the next game. I think this is the area that will help me build the rounded story that I’m looking for…or maybe will it will cause me greater confusion……?

Observational Research – Arsenal vs Blackpool

It was a fantastic day out that was rounded off when Arsenal beat Blackpool by 6-0! Okay, its Blackpool first foray into the Premier League but they did pose some problems by probing our defence which still is quite leaky. I was able to take some interesting photos – like the one above .

As I came out of Arsenal tube station and onto Gillespie Road, the street was awash with Red shirts with white sleeves.  As I walked down, some of the residents opened up small stalls selling T-shirts and other memorabilia. Ticket touts formed a defensive barricade, standing still like statues quietly asking fans as they walked past them if they had any tickets to sell. It was a full house for today’s game and I would be very surprised if anyone wanted to sell their tickets for the first home game for the 2010/2011 season.

As I entered the stadia perimeter people were milling around. Some on mobile phones chatting, others taking lone pictures of the stadia, whilst many were trying to cue their loved ones against the backdrop of the stadium to wait for a break in the swirling crowd to take that single shot without other people strolling into the picture.

I swiped my card and entered the stadium making my way up to the upper tier. On my journey up the stairs, a father was attempting to make idle conversation with his son, who seemed slightly overweight and disinterested in the ramblings of his dad. The father was reviewing the paper tickets and conversed to his son that he believed they had good seats. The son’s only response was “I hope so.” But his manner was dismissive, almost as if he really did not want his dad to be there. As he walked up the stairs, he was wearing the latest home kit including the purple Nike football trainers. Emblazoned on the back of his shirt was the number 4; above it read “Gooner”, and below it read “Life” – Gooner 4 Life. It got me me thinking about my story and how interesting it would be to feed this into the dynamic between father and child. As I was observing these two, I realised that the father was either being aloof, or he was overcompensating to ensure the child was going to have a good time. I find these dynamics between father and child quite disturbing because a parent should not have to appease their child, especially when taking them to a football match. It’s incredible that in today’s age the children seem to have more power or the ability to exert more influence on their parents than the other way around. Is it because this child is spoilt, has a troubled background, simply bored or is their homelife dysfunctional such that the neccessity to have the latest football kit and the best seats is a measure for the father to overcompensate due to the lack of emotional connection between him and his child?

I took my seat and looked to see several elderly people walking up the concrete steps to their designated row. Some could only walk one step at a time. They made it eventually to their seat and you could understand why they came early, just to master the steep staircase.

It wasn’t long before the massive LCD screens exploded into life with Arsenal TV depicting excerpts of their past classic victories stitched together into an elegant footage with dramatic music to incite an emotional response from the fans. The music then changed tempo and the discreet roving camera was activated. Audience members’ faces were then projected live onto the screen – immortalised for only a few seconds before the camera switches to another unsuspecting fan.  A fan appeared so bored when his face was shown on the big screen, some patted the Arsenal logo on their chest as a Roman would do when saluting Caeser; others simply smiled or waved.

As people began to take their seats, the smell of stadia food – hot dogs and cheese burgers – wafted and envelop us. That single smell causes a biological trigger to want a burger and with still some time before kick-off I decided against putting that into my system.  My ears were inundated with the latest pop tunes blasting from the PA system. The tunes were all happy ones to get the fans into the mood – it’s dance music you would expect to hear in a club.

Just before the game kicked off, Arsenal unveiled the naming of its stands with great fanfare and the re-inroduction of the famous replica clock which stood at Highbury under then manager Hertbert Chapman in the 30’s. The crowd were ecstatic that Emirates was now beginning its process of Arsenalisation – a process by which the legacy of Arsenal is to be imprinted into the uber-cool stadium. This is not merely a stadium, but a museum hailing the great Arsenal legacy and taking the best of yesterday and fusing that into the uber-cool stadium of today.

Trying to watch a football game whilst taking the odd picture and mental notes is fraught with immense difficulty because at some point something has to give. In the enjoyment of the game I had to just park my Observational Research hat and get into the ebb and flow of the ensuing game. What is marvellous to note is only in a stadium do 60,000 people shown any sign of empathy. Arsenal missed five good opportunities to score goals and in each missed opportunity the 60k crowd howled their indignation. Some even took the mantle to verbalise their feelings with a mixture of comedic and vulgar language which certainly brought chuckles to us in the upper tier.

It’s interesting to note that the terraces of football stadiums are awash with discussions and opinions painted in the emotional overtones that succinctly express how the majority feelings – but are perhaps to introverted or afraid to speak their minds. The constant barrage of shouts and intimidation inflicted at the opposing team are mostly for the punters sitting in the upper tier as I doubt the Seasiders (Blackpool) could hear any of the diatribe from the pitch. Looking around you can see that attending a football game is not just a rite of passage for some, but it’s the indoctrination of the way to handle language in its most cruel and vulgar form as an instrument of attack to be hurled like a pot of blazing oil to the opposing team. Is it warfare conducted by the power of extreme contorted facial expressions spewing the bile of intense foreboding language that is indoctrinated into the young who will carry the mantle into the next generation? Has society become so wrapped in cotton wool that attending matches is the only outlet for us humans to express a sincere desire to win? By exposing children to this type of warfare, are saying that in general it’s incorrect to behave in such a manner outside a football, but it’s tolerable inside? If I look at my story, does this child begin to exhibit this persona – i.e. is the child slowly changing as it begins to adapt to the nature of the spectator and in doing so is able to come to terms with a damaging secret? Or does the child use this persona change as a weapon to remonstrate with its father over the lack of emotional connectivity? There is something deep and profound that a football game evokes in all us, that it may not necessarily change us but it could free our ability to become more expressive and with that it may begin to break down barriers. I’ve noticed myself that what I’ve just written is a dichotomy and I suppose that is life.

An image that featured very strongly in my mind is when Arsenal scored a goal. Rows upon rows of people packed tightly in their seats. A ball is directed into the opposing teams’ goal and suddenly in slow motion, rows upon rows of people stand to attention. The flip-up seats in a row stand up to attention as people lift off from their seats. The furious roar of the stadium explodes in ecstasy as the ball penetrates the inside of the net. Hands out stretched, clapping, waving, finger pointing, as the crowd leap off their seats and jump in unison. Only to then wave their attention at the ineptitude opposing team where jolly banter is inflicted upon them.

As the game was ending I noticed hordes of Arenal fans who were making their exit. Some trapped in the middle of a long row would suddenly see a person after person getting up to let the early bird exit the row. Some were actually leaving moments before the last goal was scored. I always wonder people leave a stadium so early on Saturday game. It’s not as if it’s a school night and they have to beat the traffic and get to bed in order to have a good night’s sleep.

I just remembered that before the first half ended a middle-aged man turned up for the game. I noticed he was season ticket holder as he held a Gold Card which has your seat number and location printed on the rear of the card. Unfortunately, he was seated 30-40 seats into the row and could barely see his seat. Therefore, he decidede to sit on the concrete steps next to his allocated row. A steward approached him and asked him not to sit there for health and safety reasons, but after he showed his card she understood his predicament and left him to it. How can you be this late for a game?

I sat in the stadium for around 12 – 15 minutes watching the numbers slowly disperse the stadium. The east stand (situated opposite us) slowly began to reveal the white gunners logo that was hidden behind the seated individuals and it wasn’t long before the stadium had emptied out. All that was left was a few stragglers watching the game highlights on the big screen and Stadium would now sleep for another 2-3 weeks before it would host another big game. The stadium is like a animal feasting on a huge meal in which it will takes weeks for it to digest before attempting to feed again. Is Emirates a Tiger, or is it an Anaconda in the way it feeds? While Emirates digests its win, the supporters where all hanging outside taking the obligatory photos of the stadium.

The opposing supporters talking and shaking hands with some Arsenal fans, while many were down on the concourse doing some last minute Arsenal shopping for items.

This was my first time hanging around the stadium after the game and it was interesting to see the diversity of people that attend football matches. I also noticed a line of fans queuing outside the underground car park armed with their cameras waiting to take a picture of the Arsenal team as they drive home.

At this point, this was my cue to also head off home.

Included are some videos taken during the match:

Players warming up.

Start of the Match.

End of the Match.

Handling the great expectation

I have odd dreams. I suppose we all do. Sometimes I dream that I’m in a rock band and I get up on stage to play Bass guitar (which I used to play back in Uni), only to find out that I can’t strum a single note! And, the whole band are looking at me thinging WTF, while I look out to the crowd and see that everyone has left! Or walking onto a pitch thinking I’m a professional footballer, only to find out that I can’t even kick a ball – which is actually true.

Handling the great expection that everyone has of you must be a serious dent to one’s confidence. How long can someone remain seated on a pedestal high above everyone else before you are knocked over and someone else takes your limelight? Each week we watch football games hoping, praying that our team wins.  But, sometimes members’ of team commit howlers that make you want to scream with shame.

During the stadium tour, we were given the opportunity to walk through the players’ tunnel and onto the pitchside (we were not allowed to set one foot on the pitch). It’s an incredible walk because you are surrounded in this halo red coccon. Walking down you can imagine what the players could be feeling. For me it was excitement (as I was a tourist), but reflecting on my dreams it was quite discomforting. Everyone outside cheering you on, only to find by the second half they could be spitting your name in blood and booing at your inability to feed the crowds their weekend dose of adrenaline-fuelled wins.

As I write and review my notes that day, I certainly fely very different emotions as to where I was located at the stadium that day. From looking at the pitch from the Directors’ Box there was a sense of elevated objectiveness. But then as we walked into the private warrens of the players’ inner sanctity the perception and emotional values to change to imagining what it’s like being here. I felt almost at times empathetic and to handle that kind of pressure on a weekly basis is not something I could live up to, regardless of the money they throw at you. They are actors in a play which has no script. They must fend for themselves at the mercy of the crowd, for we are the Gods looking down at the pathetic mortals who must win our hearts for that day.

Going back to my story. Has the daughter done something so bad that the expectation of her has entered freefall to such a low and possibly dangerous point? Is the father her only lifeline to bring her back to normality before something terrible happens to her? Could be.

Psychology – It’s a game of two halves

To see the players changing rooms might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but you have to admit this is most probably the second most important place during a football match. The place where the players may vent at one another, or where tactics are rethought or simply a place where the players are elated or downright sobre.

Apparently, Arsene Wenger was responsible for the design layout of the players changing area. Unlike most clubs, Arsenal’s area is shaped in a horseshoe and in the centre they have a low table which sits all the sports drinks. However, in the visiting team’s changing area their table sits quite high such that when the players are sat down they can’t see one another across the table because it sits quite high and it’s pilled of sports drinks. This is an added psychology to wind the players up. Imagine, the opposing team are having an awful game. They come back and sit down but as someone opposite is talking, the player can’t see that person so they have to stand up – which affects the psychology of the players because they should be resting.

You look at buildings and you don’t tend to think about the psychology of how one feels being inside it. It’s quite amazing that a simple changing room can be designed to induce a psychological change in someone. Which takes me back to my story. I know this will be a about a father and son, or his daughter. But the question is why is it so important for this father to take his kid to the football? Is it because football games are actually rites of passages for sons and daughters to be better acquainted with their parents – something that has gone on for generations – or is it a case whereby the parents are handing the mantle of football supportership down to their children?

This is an interesting piece of psychology because had this been 15-20 years ago, no one in the right mind would take their children to a football game. I certainly never went to a game because of the violence and racist attitudes in those days. But today, we live in a different society that is more tolerant and open to the diverse Londoners that inhabit our city.

But to get back to the story, I am intrigued about this dynamic. And, instead of writing a rites of passage story I seem to want to dig deeper as to rationale why this father is taking their child to see a game? Now, the most obvious choices come to my mind such as: Parents are going through a divorce and the father is about to lose custody of his child so attends the last few games of the season before the mother moves town. Sounds interesting, but writing this kind of story doesn’t really set my mind on fire and becomes a piece of kitchen-sink / social drama – which is not bad but is not the angle I want to pursue to push my writing.

Sometimes the best stories are those which focus on the relationships. In this case, secrets are always so very interesting to explore. I had this fascinating idea that maybe the story is about a Father and Daughter, and the football games represent the connection between the two. – i.e. they are both battling to win.  I won’t go into detail about my proposed story because as a writer I don’t want to share too much with the outside world about the genesis of my ideas, but I do like the concept of a secret that needs to be extracted in order to understand some catastrophic event that occured. Most people would use a couch and a psychiatrist, but it would be interesting to set such a revelation about an incident at a football match. And that revelation would then bring the Father and daughter closer together. Maybe?

The Glorious Pitch

The tour started at 11am and we were ushered around the stadia by Eddie Kelly. A charming Scot in his late 50’s who played for Arsenal in the early 70’s. He scored the equalizer as a substitute against Liverpool in the 1971 FA Cup Final – the year I was born!

What I found fascinating about this chap, and the others ex-players who also chaperone the tours, is their love for this club. Arsenal has had quite a bashing over the last few years about the fact it’s an English club owned by different nationalities and our squad fields very little English players. Yet look around and the Stadium fascade tells a very different story and here’s Eddie giving us his impressive footballing career when he was with Arsenal.

I began thinking who is my character, is it an ex-footballer? Someone who yearns for their past? Someone who was in the public eye then, but is now nothing more than an ordinary person today. I don’t know. The more I kept thinking about this the more I realised that it was not fitting to have someone yearn about their past as the stadia is about today and now. It’s about glory. Maybe pain, maybe even suffering. But it’s about letting yourself go in the only safe environment in which you can vent your spleen (within reason) with anger, passion and hilarious insults.

We were taken to the Directors Box in which the first thing that hit my senses was the smell of freshly cut grass. It was so overwhelming that it reminded me when I was a kid and my Dad would cut the grass with one of those manual push lawn-mowers with rotating blades.

The pitch at Emirates is considered one of the best playing surfaces in the world and is constantly monitores on a 24/7 basis all year round. The grass seeds are imported from Holland, and they have a pitch drainage system that is totally automated – no expense is spared.

Sitting in the Director’s Box looking out at the centre pitch you are dumb-struck by the sheer size of this stadium.  But it was the smell of the grass that totally consumed my senses. To look at this manicured pitch, sweltering under the hot sun with automated sprinklers periscoping up and dispersing water and then retracting into the underground orrifices was almost science fiction like.

Sitting there taking pictures it dawned on me that football is about a rite of passage between a father and son. My dad never took me to a football match and it was only until 2008 when I saw my first ever game in France – of all places – between England and France. Even when I cast my memory back to Member’s Day it was incredible to see the number of families who had attended that. I must admit, there is something very compelling about a father and son dynamic set in the realm of a football club. I can’t intellectualise why, but for some reason I felt a strong reasonance that this father-son dynamic is the compelling centre-point of a story. The question is whether the stadia will be immortalised in the father, or the son?

Tour of Arsenal Football Club – Emirates Stadium

Last Wednesday was my birthday.  I never work on my birthday. So I took the day off (approved of course!) and decided to treat myself and my best friend (whose 40th is upcoming) to a tour of Arsenal Football Club. Now, some of you maybe thinking that I’m using this as some kind of lame excuse to do all things Arsenal related and somehow shoehorn this into my project. The way I look at it, is if you’re going to do something you might as well enjoy yourself doing it.

On a serious note though, in order to better understand the ground – which I had described as a gladiatorial stadia – I wanted to get into the fabric of my surroundings and see the stadia from its internal machinations – something which not that many people see.

Also, to round off my research I plan to see Arsenal vs Blackpool on Saturday, 21st August in which I hope to capture the mood and feeling of watching a game surrounded by 60k fans – which of course will be blogged.