This isn’t usually hard to write after a win, but I find myself sat here waiting for the train to pull out of Paddington, and I’m almost overwhelmed by sadness. Not about the game of course, which was almost pre-season in its comfortableness. And not about the likely player departures, although I do feel sad that I probably won’t see Sagna, who’s been such a tremendous soldier, playing for us again at the Emirates. And not because of anything to do with the manager. Whatever my views on that, I’ll always love him and as long he’s here I’ll want nothing but success for him and the team.
No, I feel sad purely, and selfishly, for myself, because today was my last home game for a couple of years. I’m moving overseas in July, and although it’s a tremendous opportunity which I can’t wait to start, I think it’s only crept up on me now just how much going to Arsenal has been a part of my life over these past few years. And how much I’m going to feel the loss of it. I still remember the day Dave and I discovered, separately but at the same time, that someone at our office had a season ticket available for rent, and sending each other overlapping emails excitedly saying we should take it.