Scottish Arsenal fan, suffering from an over-estimation of wit. Wispa Gold saviour. Fanshare. Aspiring commentator.
Today it was announced that Le King, Thierry Henry, had retired from professional football. The man who remains the flagbearer for excellence in the Premiership will no longer ply his trade on the pitch. His name is enough to take me on a magic carpet ride of memories. His touches of genius are still used as a comparative barometer for all goals scored.
The sunlight dappled through the phalanx of trees that formed the head of the garden. The beams of leaf-filtered photons then hit the exquisitely transparent French windows and proceeded to illuminate the room that was housed within. The owner of the aforementioned room obviously had done their research on interior design, the sunshine expanded the dimensions of the lightly painted walls and fill the cavernous room with a sense of cheer.
Two matches attended in one week. Whilst my wallet has felt the pinch, every time you ascend the stairs and the pitch comes into view, the last thing on your mind is whether you have the spare £50 to buy your niece the latest useless piece of One Direction paraphernalia. No matter how often you're exposed to the wonderful sight of The Emirates carpet and each stand as they rise to your eyeline, the impact is not dimmed.
