
I’ve been lucky enough in my life to experience some amazing days watching football. That includes watching my sons play, watching Real Mallorca, and of course, the team I’ve supported since I was a boy—Arsenal.
I have to say that our experience together last Wednesday night in Madrid probably tops the lot. I’ve seen Arsenal win league titles and FA Cups, but the Champions League is something that has evaded us in my lifetime. My boys, in their lifetime, have only seen an FA Cup win—we’ve been nowhere near the Champions League final. We got there in the 2005/06 season, losing to Barcelona in the final. Interestingly, that year we played Real Madrid in the last 16 and beat them 1-0 with an amazing solo goal from Thierry Henry. This was the Galácticos Madrid team of Beckham, Zidane, and Ronaldo et al., who were expected to win the competition. I was at that game too, in Madrid, but my eldest, Jacob, was only a few months old, and my youngest, Jude, hadn’t even been thought about!
Twenty years on, we were preparing to play them again—and with a 3-0 lead from the first leg, what could go wrong? I’ve always kept good contacts in my life, especially football ones, as you never know when you might need them. So when we drew Real Madrid in the quarter-finals, there was only one person I needed to ask for the away leg. Florentino Pérez, the President of Real Madrid, had been to Pirates on a couple of occasions in the past, and his daughter, Cuchy Pérez, used to come to the show every year. She sent me the price list for Madrid fans, which ranged from €125 to €450! Not a cheap night out, but we couldn’t miss it. With our residents’ 75% flight discount, the flights were pretty reasonable, and with the flight times as they were, we decided not to book a hotel.
Arriving in Madrid, we made our way to Plaza Mayor, where the majority of the Arsenal fans were congregating. It was all good fun, with the beer flowing and songs being sung—that was until the national police decided at 17:00 it was time to move everybody on. Arsenal supporters don’t have a bad reputation, but I think it’s just because we’re English that we’re treated in such a way. There was no reason given to move us along four hours before kick-off—just a whistle and some pushing. We decided to get a taxi to the stadium and ended up in an Irish bar close to the ground. The reason? You couldn’t get anywhere near the stadium because there were thousands of Madrid fans preparing a special welcome for their players’ arrival.
Once inside the stadium, we quickly realised—after climbing staircase after staircase—that our €125 ticket wasn’t going to be anywhere near the pitch. The Santiago Bernabéu is an imposing stadium, and since it’s been refurbished, it’s gone to another level. If you suffer from vertigo, you might get put off—the banking of the stands and the closing of the roof made the atmosphere electric. We were so high up we had two big screens above us just to see the game close-up.
Arsenal played just as well in the second leg as they had in the first, but Madrid were, without doubt, very disappointing. On paper, a team that contains Mbappé, Vinícius Jr, and Bellingham—to name a few—should be a frightening prospect. But they didn’t turn up in either game, if I’m honest, and you could feel the frustration among their fans.
There were a lot of Arsenal fans, like us, sitting among the Madrid fans, but without any problems. At the end, we made our way to the away end to celebrate with the rest of the supporters. We were ecstatic, and the most popular song was: “Arsenal at the Bernabéu, Tottenham watching Emmerdale!”
If, like us, you decide not to book a hotel and try to get some sleep at the airport—let me warn you—it’s not very comfortable.
We’ve decided not to go to the semi-final against PSG, either in London or Paris, but hopefully save ourselves for the final at the Allianz Arena in Munich, Germany.
We can dream, can’t we?


