Back in Time - The making of an Arsenal legend

[Samuel Q]

Introduction


30th August 2013 - Rezervni's Pub, Finsbury Park.


"Ahahahaha! Look at this!" I heard, as a paper was shoved in my face. I see the word 'Sport' and 'Football news'. Ah ****, he must have noticed my Arsenal jacket. I just came in here for a quiet drink, wanted to get away from the football at the moment for obvious reasons.


What the **** is going on with my club? Millions and Millions sitting in the bank, nothing spent at all yet. The team is good, but there's obvious weaknesses for everyone to see, everyone except the management, it seems.


I glance over and see a tall bloke with a Chelsea scarf. Thought there wouldn't be many of these lot here up in North London... suppose football's on the telly though. See that they've just lost the match vs Bayern Munich. I've always liked Bayern Munich... good on them. This guy's backed up by a bunch of his Chelsea mates. They kind of look like kids in a playground, following their leader.


"'Arsenal transfer spend: £0!' And it's almost deadline day! Pathetic Arsenal will be fighting it out for fourth again. HAHA!"


Smug Chelsea *******. He doesn't even care that his team have just blown the supercup. All that he, and every other ****** fan in the world care about, is how many jokes they can crack at Arsenal's expense a day. No trophies in 8 years. Bah. I've lived through worse than this. I and all the Highbury faithful still stuck through the **** times times in the mid 70s, when we were ****ing bottom half, but there still singing away on the terraces. I've stuck with the gunners through and through.


"Come on mate, just accept it. We're gonna be challenging for titles and you'll end up potless again! HAHA!"


Could see this guy had had too much to drink. I don't know why I responded to his pathetic jibes but I did.


"Mate," I said, "I went to Highbury for nearly 40 years, and I could go to the Emirates for 40 more and all, and I could see them never win a trophy again, and I could see them get relegated to the ****** Championship, and I'd still sing with pride and love them all the same. I bet my life that you and your pals would've become Man City fans if you hadn't won the Champions League that season you finished sixth, and I can tell you that for nothing."


Stupid move. Heard a small cheer of support from behind me, and was about to continue with my attack, but just then, I felt a sharp blow to my head and was out cold.

 

[Samuel Q]

The Master Tactician


As I woke the pain was as instant as it was painful. It was as if my head was a big glass bowl that had been shattered into millions of pieces. I eventually mustered the strength to turn my head to the right, where I saw an old man, lying in a bed similar to mine.

I looked out the window, expecting to see the shadowy streets of North London, but instead saw the most beautiful sight I could possibly imagine. It was the Emirates Stadium - except it definitely wasn't in London. It was on a massive hill, and fans were sloping into it from all angles. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. They were in great voice, as if it was a massive game they were all attending. Chelsea? United? Tottenham? Wait a minute...
"Oh No!" I said, startled. "The North London Derby today! And I'm gonna miss it because I'm stuck in..."

It suddenly occurred to me that this was definitely not a hospital. There were two beds, but no medical equipment, and nothing else in the room aside from a door and a television.

I turned to face the old man and saw him shouting at the television. I looked towards it and saw it was a Seria A match. AC Milan vs Juventus.

"No, No!" he shouted, "That is not how you defend, Rossoneri!" The power and strength of his voice startled me. I had been expecting... well... nothing like this. "Ah," he said, "Another Derby we will lose. Vecchia Signora!" he lamented, shaking his head.

I didn't want to interrupt him as he was clearly transfixed with the game, but I needed to know a great many things. "Excuse me, mate, but where am I?"

He paused for a minute and turned to face me. "Well, this is one of life's great mysteries indeed. No-one really knows what this place is, but everyone will reach it someday." Not the most helpful of answers. I tried again. "How can I get out of here? I need to get to the game, Tottenham are here and..."

"Ah," he interrupted, "You have a derby to see to see as well? But, my friend, they want to see you too!"

I listen closer to the voices and heard them shouting "There's only one Michael Rodriguez! One Micheal Rodriguez!"

"But... but that's my name!"

"And now it is time for you to realise why they do," he continued, as if I had said nothing. "Here, take this." I saw a silver envelope enter my hands.

Just then, I felt myself being drawn towards the door. "But I don't even know your name!" I shouted. The old man smiled as I fell through the door, and the room got smaller and smaller before it faded to darkness.

 

[Samuel Q]

When Dreams Become Reality

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The scene was replaced by something altogether different, although equally startling. We were in some kind of boardroom. I glanced at the panelling and saw the distinct patterns that told me that this was definitely the Arsenal Boardroom. I focused and saw the figures of Ivan Gazidis, Arsene Wenger and Peter Hill wood looking at me, each with big smiles on their faces.

"So, Michael," said Peter, "If you would just sign here, you will officially become the Manager of Arsenal Football Club."

I was startled, but tried to hide it. I glanced at the calender on the table, and on it I saw the date '1st August 2012'.

I don't know how, but I had gone back in time. And this was my chance. My chance to set everything right in the world.