I have just finished watching the documentary ’89 on Sky. Almost exactly a week after Arsenal beat Liverpool at the Emirates . The final score was 3-2. Its a feat that has become increasingly rare over the years. Liverpool’s fortunes have soared under their Manager Jurgen Klopp while Arsenal went into a steady decline first during the final years of the great Arsene Wenger and subsequently under Unai Emery who to be fair was given the almost impossible job of recreating some of Arsenal’s glory days under Wenger. Things are looking up under Mikel Arteta and last week’s win was further evidence of that.

Normally I do not watch sports documentaries. Unless done really well, they can almost never capture the drama of the actual event.But I made an exception for this one, for 1989 was the year that impacted my life in more ways than one. It was the year when my second child and the older of my two daughters was born. It was also the year when after 2 hard years of juggling between work, managing a young family and the usual struggles of paying bills and keeping a roof on our heads, I successfully completed my Diploma in European Political History with the Open University. In the same year, the mobile phone boom had also started to hit the UK in a really major way, and later on that year, after many a debate with my late wife who absolutely saw no need for it, I would become a proud owner of a brick like device. It was the year when, after a few years of flirting, I well and truly fell in love with the Arsenal football club and thus became a Gooner. For Life. And it was also the year when I became acquainted with a Jewish guy from East London called Simon. “It’s Shimon actually, but i keep it simple for you guys,” he would later tell me. Actually the latter three events are inter-related, more of which later.

You see, the real significance of this is that Football (or soccer as our friends across the Atlantic prefer to call it) had not really been my sport while I was going through my teens and early 20s. It was cricket with a passing interest in football for the big games only, mainly the European Cup and the English FA Cup. Then came the mid 80s and a little known football club, the Wimbledon FC aka The Wombles, who had gone through the various tiers of English football from being a small group of lads kicking a ball in the park to playing in the then English First Division alongside the likes of Liverpool and Manchester United became the sporting equivalent of a cult classic. As someone who has always had a soft spot for the underdog, the Wimbledon story caught my eye and the beginning of my love affair with the Beautiful Game was well and truly underway. And in 1988, the Wombles did the sporting equivalent of David and Goliath. They beat Liverpool, who had already won the English First Division, in the FA cup final. The almost completely unknown Lawrie Sanchez scored the game’s only goal courtesy of a perfectly timed cross by the slightly better known Dennis Wise and the Wimbledon keeper Dave Beasant saved a penalty from Liverpool legend John Aldridge, thereby making him the first keeper to save a penalty in a FA cup final. The football world went completely mental. The legendary commentator John Motson aka Motty described it as The Crazy Gang winning against The Culture Club. This was simply not in the script. But footballing history had been made and Liverpool, a club that are used to making history, became part of it in perhaps the most unwanted way possible. And a year later, it would yet again be at Anfield in Liverpool where history would be made all over again. And me and Arsenal would become inseparable.

It was in the same season that I had started to take more than a passing interest in Arsenal football club . Their manager George Graham, himself a former Arsenal player had taken up the position the previous year after the great Sir Alex Ferguson had declined the offer, having decided to manage the Scottish national team instead. They were being called “boring boring Arsenal” by a lot of pundits and rival teams and that was mainly down to the solid defensive wall that Graham had built for the club with Tony Adams, Steve Bould, Lee Dixon and Nigel Winteburn, and the brooding presence of David O’Leary . It was the most formidable defence in the English football league and Tony Adams in particular went into every tackle as if his life depended on it. It was extraordinary stuff and it made the best strikers in the country extremely wary of having to come up against Tony Adams & Co. While the boring label made the headlines, George Graham was a happy man. 1-0 is enough he said and the Arsenal fans seemed to agree . Arsenal after a few years of not making it into the top 5 were becoming the team to beat and while everyone was focused on their legendary back 4, he had also nurtured a great midfield with the likes of David Rocastle, Paul Merson and Michael Thomas and in Alan Smith a fine striker . By the end of the 87/88 season, Arsenal had really grown on me. Then came 88/89.

The start of the season was a resounding 1-5 win for Arsenal against Wimbledon, for whom I still carried a soft spot. Along the way, they were to beat their great rivals Tottenham twice, beat Manchester United and draw with Liverpool. Towards the end of the season it was effectively a two horse race between Arsenal and Liverpool to win the League title. And Arsenal seemed to have the easier run. They just had to beat Derby and Wimbledon and the title was theirs. But great dramas happen in sport when you least expect. Arsenal lost to Derby and drew with Wimbledon. Liverpool won against QPR and West Ham and went ahead on points. It was down to the final game and it was to be Liverpool v Arsenal at Anfield, a ground where even the world’s top clubs still play with a mixture of trepidation and enormous respect for the history of the place.

At this point it becomes pertinent to mention how I connected with Simon/Shimon and how my acquaintance with him was to prove to be so educational in more ways than one. I first came into contact with Simon through a mutual acquaintance, a diehard Arsenal fan. I wanted to watch the Arsenal-Spurs game at Highbury but all the cheaper tickets were sold out by the time i tried to get one. My friend suggested i should contact Simon. I had absolutely no idea who he was, except that he would help me get a ticket for the game. And so it happened. I called him, gave him the name of my acquaintance and he asked me to meet him at Highbury & Islington tube station an hour before the game. And so we met. He had the ticket. At a mark up of course. And he asked me to buy him a coffee and a roll for the service from the cafe across the road, which i did. He was a slight looking man, a heavy smoker and very very fidgety. I didn’t really like him in that first meeting. I did not go to any more live games for the rest of the season but I was totally hooked on Arsenal’s progress. And then, as Arsenal drew with Wimbledon and Liverpool beat West Ham, the scene was set for a dramatic finale at Anfield. The game was initially postponed out of respect for the Hillsborough stadium disaster where 97 Liverpool supporters were tragically killed, but it was already a sellout. 2 weeks before the match was due to take place on the 26th of May, I got a call from Simon. He of course had tickets for the game. And he wanted a 100 quid for per ticket. Its a bargain he told me. My wife was heavily pregnant at the time and I couldn’t afford it financially anyways given the coach trip and food, and possible overnight stay in Liverpool would have doubled the cost. So I declined the offer although I did give him a referral and he made a sale, and he was courteous enough to call back and thank me, which kind of lessened the initial dislike I had for him.

26th of May 1989 was a particularly warm day. My wife had an antenatal appointment that afternoon and I had booked a day off from work, for the appointment of course and the game later on that day. After having decided not to travel to Liverpool, I had to watch the game live on TV and work would simply be an aberration!

The equation went something like this: Arsenal needed to win by at least 2 clear goals and keep a clean sheet to win the title. A draw, or even a win by one goal would give the title to to Liverpool. The omens were not good. Liverpool had not lost at Anfield by 2 goals for over 3 years and Arsenal had not won at Anfield for 15 years. Liverpool had some legends of the time playing for the them: Barnes, Rush, Aldridge, Houghton, Staunton, Hanson, Beardsley, McMahon and the rubbery Bruce Grobelaar in goal. Arsenal, despite their already fabled defence were still nowhere near the same class as Liverpool upfront. Merson and Smith were good but no shade on Barnes and Rush. Michael Thomas was not even close. An honourable draw would be a good outcome at Anfield. Being runners up to Liverpool would be no disgrace really, would it?

33 years later, I could still give you a ball by ball commentary on the game. But I shall spare you that. It was 0-0 at half time, and George Graham was mighty pleased with that. Arsenal had made some good runs and forced a save. Their defence had looked solid. Liverpool despite counter attacking had never looked threatening, and their talisman the great Ian Rush had to come off with a groin injury, replaced by Beardsley.

The second half was when the drama really unfolded. Smith scored after 8 minutes from a free kick off Winterburn, which the Liverpool players furiously protested, for no reason other than they didn’t think they would be able to get through the Arsenal defence that day. And then, the seconds and minutes ticked by and the game went into injury time. I believe it was Liverpool’s McMahon who told his team mates that it would be one minute added. Easy stuff. Just kick the ball as far forward as possible and get it over with. But sport can be a cruel business at times. The time added was 2 minutes and 39 seconds. Enough for Arsenal to make one final run. And they did. Every single move of that run is like a frozen frame in my memory. John Lukic the Arsenal keeper bowling the ball to Dixon who launched it towards Smith who flicked it towards Thomas. And those last few seconds as Thomas went past the last Liverpool defender keep playing in slow motion as I type this. Between Thomas and the goal stood Bruce Grobelaar. An intimidating presence in the Liverpool goal, known for putting off some of the best strikers with his antics. He seemed to cover the net end to end with his rubber like body. But in those last few seconds, just as Thomas raced towards the goal like a man possessed, Grobelaar charged towards Thomas more as an act of desperation than any sense of purpose. He was, like the other 21 men in the park, perhaps too weighed down by the enormity of the occasion. Thomas slotted the ball in. It was 2-0. Arsenal had won the game and the League. Liverpool for the second year running had found themselves on the wrong side of history.

In the documentary, Arsenal’s greatest player ever, Thierry Henry, described the game as the greatest story in football. Period. And who am I to disagree with the great Henry? No one is ever going to go to Anfield, and beat Liverpool 2-0 in the last game of the season to win the League. It’s just not going to happen. Just as no one is ever going to go 49 games unbeaten in a season. Arsenal have done both. And that’s why I am a Gooner 🙂

Post script:

Simon called me the next day. “Told ya. Shld’ve gone shldn’t ya you wally!” he said in his lovely jewish cockney accent. I told him i couldn’t, wifey being heavily pregnant and all that. He said his grandmother had given birth to his dad while plucking potatoes in Hungary. That’s the first i learnt about his Eastern European roots. Not long after, he called me again. He had some mobile phones given by a “friend” and he was selling them at knockdown prices. Would I be interested? I did want one, and I knew i couldn’t afford one at the prices they were selling so i said sure, lets meet up. So we did, at the cafe opposite Highbury & Islington. He had the set, all boxed up. 100% genuine and guaranteed he told me. Exactly who was giving the guarantee i never asked nor did i enquire about his mystery supplier. But we ended up having a very long chat over an egg roll and coffee. Simon had lost 11 members of his family, including his parents and his siblings in the holocaust. He had managed to escape with some relatives, first to Switzerland and then the UK. The story he told me resonated with me quite deeply. It was a story that every immigrant to a new country will tell you. The racism, discrimination, being refused jobs, poor housing, having to work every waking hour trying to make ends meet. Simon had never married. He lived alone in a one bed council flat in hackney where the heating kept breaking down and he had to buy extra blankets to keep himself warm. He had been a tailor’s apprentice, a baker’s assistant, factory worker. With no formal education or skills, he did what worked best for him. He became a hustler. I asked him if he had ever thought of moving to Israel. He looked at me as if I had gone mad. Mate the only people i know all live in Hackney. How could i move to anywhere else? I doubt if Simon had ever been outside of Hackney aside from Highbury of course. His cockney accent was still tinged with a slight Eastern European one. He told me that when he arrived in the UK he could only speak Yiddish. And no school would take him because of that. “So I learnt it all on the streets you know. ” he said it in a very matter of fact way. A few months after the mobile phone sale, he called me again. He had a nice little line in wide screen TV sets that had just entered the market. I declined. Although the mobile phone had not given me any trouble, if i was going to invest in a new TV set, it would’ve to come with a receipt and a warranty. And then i never heard from him again. It was a few years later that i found out from some Arsenal friends that he had been found dead in his flat by some neighbours who hadn’t seen him for a few days. Nothing more was known about him.

He was a good man Simon. Not only did he help me get started with my lifelong Arsenal journey, he taught me that no adversity in life should ever make you want to give up. I dedicate this Blog to the memory of Simon and 1989. Rest in Peace mate. Zichrono livrachah. (May his memory be a blessing).