My first magical gooner moment revolves around the magical Cup Final of 1979. I was ten years old and remember being mesmerized by those final four or five minutes, when it all seemed to be going pear shaped...
I had probably been hardcore gooner for at least a year or two (after flirting with the idea of supporting QPR and even, God forbid, Newcastle). And yes, I had watched, appalled, as Arsenal had lost the previous year's final to Ipswich. Yep, Ipswich...at least nobody in my class supported them, otherwise I might have had hell to pay...
1979 was going to be different of course. We now had Brian Talbot on our side, who had helped Ipswich beat us the previous year and who was aiming to become the first player to win two back-to-back finals with two different teams. Our opponents, however, were a little more accomplished than lowly Ipswich - if we were going to cover ourselves in glory, we had to overcome Manchester United.
The final itself wasn't the most exciting, until the last 5 minutes. Arsenal had control of the game and were leading 2-0 when United suddenly bounced back with 2 quick goals. All seemed lost, the commentator was rasp, the Manure fans were sure one more goal would do it...when up popped Liam Brady (*falls to knees in 'we're not worthy' mode*) on the left wing, a cross was delivered and, yes, YES, YESSSSS, Alan Sunderland managed to get his foot to the ball and steer it home! A few moments later, it was all over, Arsenal had done it! Pure, fucking bliss.
Me, I got my hand-knitted scarf out (red and white of course, cheers Mum), got on me bike and went off down the road, ecstatic. (I even remember calling a friend who supported Manure from a nearby phone box, the price of a call - 2p!)
My first magical gooner moment. The moment I knew I had made the right choice. The moment I knew I was with them for life...
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