The Arsenal Underground station has been brightened with a mural celebrating the club’s 93 years at Highbury.
London | Part 2 of the diary finally arrives, featuring evenings at Upton Park and Highbury. At Upton Park, home to West Ham United, we fake a Cockney accent and most of the words to “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles.”
[O]nce among the crowds, raising my digital camera high with the portable phones, I felt compelled to join in singing “two-nil to the Cockney boys” after a drag-back and goal from Hammers midfielder Yossi Benayoun. Patter from the crowd was accented and employed colorful adjectives. My wife said she heard a monkey-related remark spewed toward referee Uriah Rennie. Such language is chilling, but I surprised myself while watching West Ham, and again at Arsenal, by my willingness to say things aloud that I had no place saying or that I did not believe. I had underestimated the Zelig-like compulsion to blend in as well as the security that comes from having one’s actions masked in numbers. And we were all, in some way, part of invading armies.