This book appears to be about great Arsenal matches. It is, but that’s not really the point. This book appears to be about great Arsenal players. Again, not wrong, but that’s not the point either. For me, this book is about the identity of Arsenal Football Club – what the Club is; what it means; what it stands for – and how that identity is expressed through the actions, achievements and emotions of the outstanding players that graced the first team in the latter half of the 20th century.
In working towards this noble but elusive objective, this book achieves in ways that are sometimes humorous, sometimes heart breaking, surprisingly unguarded and, ultimately, supremely memorable.
Here, the author’s focus upon the identity of the Club is not hidden or subconscious. After all, it is reflected in the title of the book. As the song goes, it’s “Good old Arsenal. We’re proud to say that name.” Well, why are we proud? What does this football club mean to us? What does it stand for? Is Arsenal – old or new – actually good?
The book’s introduction further establishes the preoccupation with identity by reproducing a passage that was penned by the legendary Harry Homer for a 1971 Arsenal matchday programme. For Amy, this extract "encapsulates everything about the Highbury kinship”:
“Together we form a great family and Arsenal is our tie. We are Denis Hill-Wood our chairman, and his son Peter, and his grandfather the late Sir Samuel, who was called with affection 'Sir Sam' in the dressing room during the ‘30s. We are the Man on the Spot who always stood on the same position behind the Laundry goal and wrote me encouraging letters when things were going badly. We are Tom Parker, Charlie Buchan, Eddie Hapgood and Joe Mercer - Arsenal captains who have been my friends... We are a Spanish friend who has ended every letter for more than 20 years with a cheer for Bilbao’s Athletic and one for London’s Arsenal. We are directors, the doctor, stewards and staff; gate men, St John’s men, commissionaires and police; trainers, the scouts, and the players – these last our family's pride.” (p.11)
It’s not altogether unlike Amy to search for higher meaning. Regarding the drafting of newspaper match reports, she’s stated a desire to look beyond the anatomy of a game – the who, what and when of gameplay – to the stirred emotions and captured imaginations that help to establish and intensify our allegiance to the Club. In April 2020, Arseblog’s Andrew Mangan asked Amy about some practical challenges of writing match reports – short post-match deadlines; momentous events that occur very late in the game; that sort of thing – but she took the opportunity to propound the need for football writing to rise above minutiae:
“You’ve got to put across the nuts and bolts of what happened, but if you can portray the energy and emotion of a game and the context of anything that makes it relevant, that’s what really makes a match report something you want to try to devour the next day, or when you’ve already seen the game or already seen the highlights. Why is it people still want to read them sometimes? It’s because you want to hang on to that moment of how it felt. You know? Football is about feelings. The reason we love it… is it makes us feel stuff. And we feel stuff because we care about our clubs, but also because we’re trying to believe in something. You’re signing up. You’re part of the clan. You want to understand it all. You want to understand what it means.” (Arseblog Arsecast, Episode 574; 48:32)
When ‘Proud To Say That Name’ was published, I had read numerous Arsenal books that had recounted notable events in our history and highlighted the glorious achievements of the all-time Arsenal greats – and, to be fair, when I read ‘Proud…’ I got plenty more of both. However, this was the first Arsenal book to bring me closer to what Arsenal Football Club means.
By digging deep into the fabric and character of the Club, Amy took on a tough task, but one that she was supremely well-placed to tackle. After all, if all one wants to know is who crossed to Vaessen in Turin, it doesn’t much matter who has written the book. If, on the other hand, one wants to know what that moment – and this Club – means, it’s best that the author understands that “football is about feelings”, that “we care about our clubs” and that, in devoting a large part of our lives in support of the Arsenal, “we’re trying to believe in something.”
A BOOK IN TIME
‘Proud…’ was Amy Lawrence’s first Arsenal book. While she is now a highly accomplished and acclaimed journalist and author of three further Arsenal books – ‘Invincible’, ‘The Wenger Revolution’ and ‘89’ – the young woman who set out to write her first weighty tome was not laden with the armfuls of door-opening credentials that can be accumulated over a long career. When ‘Proud…’ was published, Amy had become a full-time, national newspaper, football journalist only the year before.
That said, writing about football, and about Arsenal, was nothing new to Amy. Her name had first appeared in print – an unsolicited match report for the December 1989 issue of Arsenal fanzine, The Gooner – when she was a teenager, a little less than 8 years before ‘Proud…’ rolled off the presses. She became a regular contributor to The Gooner, and, over the years, developed her writing chops sufficiently to join FourFourTwo magazine at its launch in 1994 and, three years later, she landed a gig at a prestigious, national newspaper, The Observer.
How it all began: A match report (on a dismal game) in The Gooner Issue 15 (December 1989)
Though the book was published in the early years of Arsène’s Arsenal – and, indeed, on the cusp of his first double – this is not contemporary reportage of the emergent, and soon-to-be abundant, benefits of the Wenger revolution. Instead, the book looks back to previous eras and past glories. Rather than a billet-doux for Monsieur Wenger, this is an ode to George Graham (who, though also a notable Arsenal player within the relevant period, is chosen here as manager to the notional XI that complete the book’s 12 subjects).
Speaking of the then recently-departed gaffer, the historical span of the book roughly matches that of Graham’s connection to the Club, which ran between 1966 and 1995. Of the 12 players featured, the earliest début was George Armstrong’s in February 1962, and the earliest match featured was played in April 1970. The most recent debutant featured in the book is Dennis Bergkamp, who first played for Arsenal in August 1995 (only a few months after the end of Graham’s tenure as the Club’s manager) and the latest highlighted match was played a little after that in November 1996.
Among the selected matches, three decades are well represented, as, of the 12 matches featured, there are none from the 1960s, 4 from the 1970s, 3 in the 1980s, and 5 in the 1990s. Reflecting this, only 1 of the 12 players featured in the book made most of their Arsenal appearances in the 1960s (Frank McLintock). For 5 players, the 1970s is the dominant decade (George Graham, George Armstrong, Charlie George, Pat Rice and Liam Brady); it’s the 1980s for 2 of the featured players (Kenny Sansom and David Rocastle); and it’s the 1990s for 4 (Tony Adams, Ian Wright, David Seaman and Dennis Bergkamp).
The matches and players featured most prominently showcase the reigns of 3 Arsenal managers: Bertie Mee (who managed 3 of the matches, and 6 of the players), Terry Neill (who managed 2 of the matches, and 4 of the players) and George Graham (who managed 6 of the matches, and 5 of the players). That said, there’s a nod to Arsène with the final match chosen (a 3-1 win in Wenger’s first North London derby), and he managed 4 featured players. Indeed, as the first copies of this book were hitting the bookshops, he was leading the above-listed 1990s quartet through a Double-winning season.
Despite the nod to current events, there is a dominant desire to delve back into the past. Not, however, the distant past. These are living histories of what, at that time, were relatively recent memories. When we hear tales of 1970 Fairs Cup glory, it’s Frank McLintock in his late-fifties who recalls the intensely memorable experiences of his 30-year-old self. Though far from elderly, Frank was, at 57, the oldest player to be featured. When ‘Proud…’ was published, George Armstrong was only 53; Pat Rice was 48; Charlie George was 46; Liam Brady was 41; Ian Wright, Tony Adams, Kenny Sansom, David Rocastle and David Seaman were all in their 30s, and Dennis Bergkamp was the youngest at a mere 28 years old. For the younger folk, these are not recollections of a bygone era. Tony, Spunky, Wrighty and Dennis were, of course, still in the thick of their Arsenal careers.
From the vantage point of 1997, Amy set her sights on slices of Arsenal’s modern history that sat comfortably within the lived experience of many – probably, most – of the book’s contemporary readers. When we – the storyteller and the audience – all remember the events recalled, the need to tell the story is not driven by the need to find out what happened. Rather, it is fuelled by the desire to know what it means now – for the players, who lived the story on the pitch; and for us, the supporters, who lived it in our own ways and know that the story belongs to us too.
HOW THE STORY IS TOLD
Pages | 192 |
Dimensions | 24.1 x 2.5 x 16.4 cm |
Publisher | Mainstream Publishing |
The book is structured around a series of matches, as each chapter tells the story of a notable game. To tell these stories with emphases on not only what happened, but also how it felt and what it means, each chapter draws on the life and personal reflections of an Arsenal player for whom the match was a memorable – perhaps, pivotal – moment in their Arsenal career.
Given the focus upon the most momentous, high-stakes clashes, it’s unsurprising that the majority of those chosen are late-season matches – more title-decider, than mid-table 6 pointer; more Cup Final than 4th Round; more April or May than a wet Tuesday night in February. For example, we are told stories of the 1971 and 1979 FA Cup Finals through Charlie George and Pat Rice, respectively, and last-game title-deciders are recalled by Frank McLintock – White Hart Lane, 1971 – and George Graham – Anfield, 1989.
Given that, in these two Cup Finals and two title-deciders, we faced Liverpool twice, Manchester United and Tottenham, it’s clear that the book encounters some of Arsenal’s most intense and longest running rivalries. Though, overall, Liverpool feature three times, and Tottenham and Manchester United twice each, a few lesser storied head-to-heads feature too – familiar (but relatively lukewarm) foes, such as Sheffield Wednesday and Southampton, and some opponents, such as Anderlecht, Juventus and Parma, that have darkened Arsenal’s door too infrequently to summon a meaningful rivalry. These matches are no less memorable for that – for many Arsenal supporters, a list of those three European clubs is sufficient to place the featured matches in 1970, 1980 and 1994, respectively.
Happily – and, again, not altogether surprisingly – all of the matches are victories for the Arsenal. So, there’s joy a-plenty, but time and again, these stories of glory are put into the context of the endeavour, the doubt, the hurt and the fight that brought the player and the team to these opportunities for historic success.
Of course, we don’t need the backstory to know these are glorious victories. We can recognise that winning the Double in 1971 was a big deal without hearing that, as a toddler in 1953, Charlie George dressed as Arsenal’s Jimmy Logie, or that, as a rambunctious teenager, his footballing development was observed by Bob Wilson and Don Howe, who both coached at Holloway School.
We know that a second leg of 1980’s European Cup Winners’ Cup semi-final against Juventus was a momentous occasion. To celebrate this victory heartily, we need neither its resonance of Liam Brady’s past – his uncle had, in 1926, made his international football début in the same city – nor the departure for Turin that lay in his imminent future. That night’s match-winning goal can live in our imaginations as a glorious, stand-alone moment: a decisive moment in a football game, separated from all that came before and after. There is no need to see that moment in stark juxtaposition to the struggles that were yet to come for our 18-year-old goal scorer, Paul Vaessen.
If all one wishes to know is who passed to so-and-so for the winning goal, such biographical details may seem like a distraction from the cut-and-thrust of a Cup run. However, if we wish to understand what those victories – and the Club – meant then to Charlie and Liam, and means to them now, we need to know how those glorious moments fit into a career, a life, and a life-long love affair with Arsenal FC.
It’s a strength of the book – perhaps, the greatest strength – that Amy elicits unguarded, insightful comments from all those featured. When recalling these famous moments that, I’m sure, they will have recalled a million times before, all the contributors somehow avoid the staleness of anecdotes too-often told. Emotional honesty and freshness is a consistent pleasure. However, in this regard, one player stands out.
In the years before ‘Proud…’ was published, we saw Ian Wright readily display his intense emotions on the pitch. In the decades since, we have grown accustomed to his blistering emotional openness in the Mr. Pigden reunion, the ‘Rocky & Wrighty’ documentary, ‘Desert Island Discs’, ‘Wrighty’s House’ and much more. As Ian’s first autobiography, ‘Mr. Wright’, was published the year before, his contributions to ‘Proud…’ are among the first steps of his journey to become the elite communicator he is now recognised to be.
The featured match for the Wright-themed chapter (titled, ‘I love the lads’) is the Brockley double act at Southampton. He talks in a raw yet accessible way about the overwhelming emotion of the day:
“’Even now when I see it on video I still get a funny kind of a tingly feeling,' he shakes his head in amazement. 'I felt like I was in amongst the real cream, people like Tony Adams, Dave Seaman, Lee Dixon, Nigel Winterburn, Michael Thomas, David Rocastle, Alan Smith, Merse, Anders, all of them Champions and internationals. I was really buzzing. Every move I made they found me with the ball. Every move! I noticed the difference in playing with guys like that immediately. After the Southampton game I felt I like I belonged amongst them. When you do something like that people accept you straight away. The boys were going, "Jesus, that was unbelievable." George Graham told me it was the best début an Arsenal player has ever made. I remember him saying it in the lobby and I said "Cheers, boss, thanks very much," and walked straight off. I didn't appreciate it at the time, it didn't sink in because it was an unbelievable day.'” (p.135)
Reading a quote like this adds layers of emotion to our memories of the day. It charges the grainy highlights with added meaning that will ring down the generations of Arsenal supporters. Now, we know more than the purity of Wrighty’s hat-trick of finishes, and the audacity of Smudger’s nonchalant lay-off for the second goal. We know that this is a story of belonging, and we can place this part of Arsenal history in the context of a career, a life and, crucially, a very special friendship.
MEET THE AUTHOR
I spoke to Amy Lawrence about her journey to becoming an author, her reflections on the book itself and the research and writing processes that brought the book to life.
Highbury Librarian: What had you written before you embarked on ‘Proud… ’?
Amy Lawrence: My early writing was all fairly informal. The Gooner was my first stop. I liked football and I liked writing. So, it felt like an opportunity to dabble in combining them for the first time. But even then, I was amazed that anything was ever published. It just seemed ridiculous.
I did a few pieces for Shoot magazine in the early days. I think I applied for a job there at one point. I didn't get the job, but they did give me some freelancing. I remember vividly writing a piece about the FA Cup Semi Finals in 1993, which I think would have been my first year after uni. Because I was living in Sheffield in a house with a Sheffield Wednesday fan, two Sheffield United fans and I was an Arsenal fan – and then there was Tottenham. So, it was so much a part of our lives. I wrote about the rivalries and somehow that ended up in Shoot, as did various other bits and pieces. I'd been the Sports Editor of the university newspaper while in Sheffield. That had been, I suppose, the moment where I’d thought, “Oh, I really love this.” Because it had never been something I'd ever considered pursuing as a career at all. It was just something that I was so interested in.
Then, suddenly I got a job for Four-Four-Two magazine, which in hindsight is preposterous because I was completely underqualified. I applied to a tiny little box advert in The Guardian jobs section. Honestly, it was a bit like getting on a rollercoaster and having no idea where it is going and even being quite surprised when you got strapped in and the bar came down. It just seemed to come out of nowhere. As I said, I just wrote an application, got an invitation for an interview, went to the interview, and the next thing I knew, they were offering me a job as an editorial assistant on a team of six to launch a new magazine in the summer of 1994 that was, of its time, really impactful.
It was just such a stroke of incredible luck for me to be able to learn on the job because that's an opportunity most people don't get. It is a hell of a brilliant way of learning how to do something. And, because it was a small team, you did get to do a bit of everything. So, in 18 months or so, I developed my skillset in terms of football writing, editing, interviewing and so on.
HL: Why write a book?
AL: I was asked. It's really bizarre, but with most of the things that I managed to end up doing I stumbled upon them or they fell in my path. I'm not, by nature, a very confident ladder-climbing, super ambitious person. I knew various people at various stages of my life who would say: “Why don’t you do this? Why don’t you do that?” I'm much more laid back, really.
I actually wrote a book before ‘Proud To Say That Name’, which was a ghost-written autobiography of David Ginola called ‘San Tropez to St. James's’, which also suddenly appeared. When I was at Four-Four-Two, Ginola arrived at Newcastle and there was a sort of Ginolamania about this swaggering, flamboyant, handsome Frenchman. He turned up and it was nothing like they'd really known before. I went and interviewed him and we got along quite well because I spoke some French and had family in the south of France. So, we just hit it off a bit more than your ordinary football interview situation. I did quite a substantial feature. It was maybe eight pages long. And I got contacted by a publisher saying, “We're quite interested in David Ginola. Would you like to write a book with him?” And I said: “Oh, okay.” It was actually quite difficult. He was a young man, enjoying his football life and all that it brought. I don't think he felt he had to do very much for this book. Somebody would come along and do it all for him. But, of course, I really did need quite a lot of cooperation because there wasn’t much information available. At that time, pre-internet, you needed to ask people directly. So, that was an interesting experience.
HL: So, you were approached by the publisher for ‘Proud…’.
AL: Yes.
HL: What was the remit?
AL: It was part of a series. Bill Campbell, a charming, bookish Scotsman from the publisher Mainstream approached me. They had come up with this idea as a mechanism for telling a history of a football club, they'd done it already with two or three clubs. There was a Celtic and Manchester United version already. Thematically they were written in the same format. They all had their own independent colour, temperature or character. But, the fundamental format was the same, which is: you pick 11 players, one manager, a game for each, and through them tell the story of your club.
Mainstream's 11-players-plus-a-manager-and-12-matches series:
The formula was applied to conjure stylised histories of Glasgow Celtic, Manchester United and others
HL: So, did you pick the players?
AL: Absolutely. It's the author's choice.
HL: Did you have to broker the interviews? Did you have to convince these legends to participate?
AL: The publishers said: “This is the style of the book; this is what we do; we’d like one on Arsenal; would you be interested in writing it?” Once there was an agreement there, it was up to me to go and do it – meet the deadline. I was still quite young and inexperienced in terms of book writing. I wouldn't say that the ghost-writing project had given me masses of experience – particularly as it is a hugely different skill compared to creating a work that's all your own words and style.
When I think about where I interviewed everyone, even that's quite interesting, because it wouldn't happen today. It would be sanitised, media-friendly environments. I went to see Geordie Armstrong in his office at Highbury, which felt to me like a glorified broom cupboard, dug out of a little bit of extra space, off the corridor where the dressing rooms were. I have half a memory that he shared it with Pat Rice. You go up the stairs; you go in through the marble halls; on the right hand side, facing out to the windows that you could see from Avenell Road. There was the referees room, then the away team and then the home team. On the left hand side – so, essentially underneath the lower tier of the East Stand – there were little pockets of space. There were a few small rooms, and those little offices, you couldn't even call it cosy. But Geordie and Pat were very proud of those little spots, you know.
I went to see Rocky when he was on loan at Norwich, which was a tiny part of his career that most people don't remember. But that's where he was at the time when we did the interview. We met in a middle-of-the-road hotel. And we spoke for hours. We went through my tapes and then some. He didn't want to stop. He did not want to stop talking about Arsenal. He was so passionate about it. His love for that club and his time there… there was so much feeling. It was incredibly moving.
I went to Frank McLintock's home, and he had one of those old-fashioned runner carpets in his corridor as you came in through the front door. After a while, because he played a little golf and we started to talk about golf, he gave me a golf lesson on that runner carpet – showing me what to do. He was so driven, it made me feel like I could beat Tiger Woods. It gave you an insight into what he was like as a guy: “C’mon! Let’s do this!” He was so fired up about sharing his passions and about wanting to do well at everything.
HL: The book came out in late 97. When did you start doing interviews, do you think? Was that in 96?
AL: Yes, I would say so. Probably, from start to finish, it would have been nine months to a year roughly.
I realised quite quickly that I didn't feel it was correct to go too far into Arsenal history and go back to the thirties. The 1930s felt like a really long time ago. Perhaps, if they'd have asked Brian Glanville to do it, for example, he would have been able to justifiably pick a fair team and games – to have that direct knowledge to have a broader spread of history. But, I was a bit reluctant to go back to the thirties or, indeed, the fifties. It was going to be a lot harder to interview some of the right people, because many weren't around at that time. Even in terms of the nuances and details of matches and eras, you were very dependent on a narrow amount of historic material available to plunder. So, for that reason, I decided to just pick up around 1970 and the beginning of that era of Arsenal success and take it through to what was then the current day.
HL: And it was very current. Most books are either about history or they're about right now. And while this is largely a historical endeavour, it is very recent history in the later chapters.
AL: That was one of the things that was, I think, quite thrilling. When you put it in its time frame, it almost feels like we knew something was right around the corner. In that Bergkamp chapter, we could already feel the very, very forceful winds of change that were happening right before our eyes. Once Arsène came, and Dennis was already there… and Patrick was there… you could already see it. I still, to this day, have such vivid memories of the feelings that we had during that game – that first North London Derby of the Wenger era. You could feel that you were watching changing history, right there in front of your eyes. It was because of the blend between the more traditional English stereotypes and this forward-looking and sophisticated, imported, overseas style.
HL: It seemed tremendously modern.
AL: It did seem modern, but I think that, if the whole thing had been ripped up and started again, then it would feel a different kind of modern. What was so beautiful about it was that it was the sweet spot between the old and the future. I think you could see, in the way they behaved towards each other, that they were both getting a tremendous kick out of what the other could give to them. So, it wasn't like the old back five thought, “Oh, look at these fancy dans!” And it wasn't like the newcomers were thinking, “They’re a bit old-fashioned!” They both took so much value from each other and how they did things. It was like a chemical reaction where there’s this multi-coloured, beautiful explosion. That's what it felt like you were watching: the chemical reaction happening, right that second, on a football pitch.
HL: It was a blend of things that we recognised and things that were new.
AL: Even in that game, you have: Ian Wright “I love the lads”; Tony Adams scoring that unbelievable goal; and Dennis scoring. It was all mixed together like an electrifying cocktail that knocks your socks off.
HL: By the way, I'm so glad that that “I love the lads” is a chapter in the book because I have always absolutely loved the “I love the lads” t-shirt.
AL: “I love the lads” is the best t-shirt I’ve ever seen. In fact, bizarrely, I was thinking about it the other day and thinking I'd like one… because there's something that nods to that now that we’re watching happening in front of our eyes in real time. Everyone can feel it. It’s the closest to “I love the lads” now that we've had since then, because it's the beginning of something.
HL: The “I love the lads” gesture may have been the first time that we saw Ian Wright being blisteringly open and honest about real emotion – and emotions that are normally private. And he's saying: “There’s a brotherhood in this group, and we love each other, actually.”
AL: And men didn’t say ‘love’ that way in public then. You wouldn’t say “I love you” to another bloke – to a friend. You know, it was very Wrighty and it was very fresh.
Ian Wright revealed his 'I love the lads' t-shirt after opening the scoring in a 1996 North London derby at Highbury. This replica is currently available via Eighteen86.com
HL: To my mind, the comments that you get in the interviews from the players are uncommonly unguarded and emotional. They seem completely different to the stock football anecdote. How did you achieve that?
AL: I think, funnily enough, it’s something that I can recognise now more with age. It’s not something that I had a magic trick to achieve, or even set out to do, because I didn't really know what I was doing. I was busking everything really in those days.
I think there are two things. First, just making someone feel comfortable and relaxed and not under threat in a conversation. I've always been quite laid back. I'm quite respectful of people. I'm interested in human feelings. I'm not someone with an edgy news nose, and that underlines everything I do. I've never looked at life that way.
Much more importantly, when you are asking somebody to explain things that are happening round about now, there’s a natural caution, I think, in most people. When you're asking people to look back on things that happened a while ago, there's a nostalgia element, especially if it's a good thing – and I was not asking someone to look back at bad things, on the whole. There's a humour element that comes in: you remember the funny things. You remember the things that meant something to you; you remember how good it felt. Going back to a great time is an enjoyable pastime that most people don't have too often in their lives – especially looking back at something in a bit of depth.
So, for example, if you're Michael Thomas, he spent the rest of his life since the 26th of May, 1989 being asked about that goal. Everywhere. Every day, more or less. It's with him all the time. When we came to do the ‘89’ documentary… actually stopping and really talking about it… going under the surface, into details and into a broader brush of what was going on at the time – what things meant at the time. It elicits things from much further away in your brain and in your soul, I think.
I felt the same with the ‘Invincible’ book. The gift was writing it ten years after, because they were ready to talk – to go back and think about it. They didn't have to be guarded. If you speak to Freddie or Sol or Jens or Thierry during the invincible season – which I was lucky enough to do at times in my journalistic life – they're in the zone. They're in the current. But, ten years down the line… Wow… It all comes tumbling out because you want to revisit it by then. You're interested in the deeper stuff of what made some of these things happen and how it felt. It feels safer to share than anything ever does when it's more current.
HL: As you know, I believe ‘Proud…’ is about the identity of the club. If that's right, what do you think is the identity that emerges?
AL: I think there is an identity. I suppose probably every supporter of every club likes to feel that their own club has something special or different about it. We're all going through similar experiences, whether we're managers, players, fans, staff or whatever at different football clubs. There's an everyman experience.
One of the things that I found heart-breaking about when the stadia that we grew up with began to be replaced by modern stadia – and there was, obviously, a huge change that took place post-Hillsborough, and again with the influx of big money coming into football, where a lot of the old traditional bases were replaced or modernised – I felt, as a travelling fan of football, that those homes were what gave clubs identities. So, when you went to Roker Park or the Baseball Ground or The Dell or Highbury, every one of those places had a very clearly defined and individualistic feel. I think Highbury could almost have been one of the personalities in the book. There's stuff in those walls that go back to different times and people and ideas.
That carried through to when the book picks up, with the team that was living with an albatross around their necks. Trying to be what history demanded. Meet the standards of the past. Frank McLintock references it; Bob Wilson and Geordie. Those guys that were part of the ‘70-71’ first great, post-thirties revolution within Arsenal. And it went all the way through to Arsène. All the way through to his “Take care of the values of this club,” comment when he left on his final day. There's always been the concept of Arsenal being a very interesting blend of traditionalism and setting high standards, but also being quite forward thinking – managing to be both; managing both of those pillars to underpin what they try to do.
I feel like everybody that was interviewed in the book felt they were part of the Arsenal identity – and felt that their time, and the things they experienced there, were about more than just them. So, maybe that's what helps it come across. Because there are certain players who pass through clubs and it's their job – while you're there, you do your bit and then you go on to the next thing. But there are also players who find themselves… or find a home for themselves, a bit like that Dennis Bergkamp quote [“found a place where you belong”]. I think all of the people involved in the book – and obviously certain people since then – found themselves… and that was their place.
HL: At that time, say 96, George Graham's place within Arsenal's identity was highly contested. Reading the book in that light, there’s an apparent need to resolve his place within Arsenal history. So, is the book really all about George Graham?
AL: It's not all about George Graham. However, I think that, as you said, George played a huge role in most of the chapters. He hovers around the book. You could argue that even in the bits that happened after him, he's still there through the back four. Wrestling with how you were allowed to feel, or supposed to feel, about George was a big deal in that moment.
I went to see George at George's house. We all love George, but we were all a little bit afraid of him. A bit daunted. He had a room that was like an Arsenal shrine. There was virtually every book ever written. He was a collector and had books that were long since out of availability. Ancient stuff. He had so much incredible Arsenal memorabilia. I remember – I think I wrote about it in the book – on the wall, he had a framed copy of the league table when Arsenal only lost one game. I could tell it irked him still. You know, the almost invincible season? Because he left under a cloud, we were all wrestling with our own emotions of how we feel about George. Then, parachuted into this Arsenal-land inside his own home, it made me feel that I had to try to put something across in the book to encourage people to forgive and to look past the unhappy ending.
Because I did love George. I do love George to this day. I think he was an exceptional manager, obviously, but he's also a very, very fine man. And I've been lucky enough to know him a little over the years, and he's just one of my favourites. I almost think of him as Uncle George, you know what I mean? He's a terrific guy.
You talk about identity. I think that George was obsessed with identity as well. George carried that identity in a way from Bertie Mee through his own era and then passed it on. I think he was a very, very significant figure in terms of what we define as the club’s identity. Because he cared about it. He cared about the history. He cared about being ambitious for the future. He cared about looking smart and doing things with class.
HL: Standards is the word.
AL: “Standards!” I can hear it in his Scottish accent. I always felt, possibly a little bit pretentiously, that Arsenal were different to everybody else, identity-wise. And again, a lot of that is knitted up with Highbury – the most beautiful stadium that ever was built, in my opinion. Biased, obviously. But, to me, it's an incontrovertible truth. Having that place, with that elegance and that style. All the little touches that would be referenced as Arsenal style – and Arsenal class – were set in place long ago. That baton was expected to be carried by a lot of people along the way. Even to this day, I think Arteta is mindful of it. He might not be mindful of it all the way back to the thirties – that strand that goes from Chapman to Mee to Graham to Arsène to him – but it is all part of the same picture.
THREE QUOTES
Here are some highlights from the book as chosen by the author, a fellow Arsenal writer - in this case, Library Legend Jon Spurling - and me.
1. The author's choice
"Peter Storey, the embodiment of all 11 men feeling one man’s assault, was in unforgiving mood. He spent the entire meal scowling at the Italians. As Frank remembers, it set the tone: ‘Peter was growling all night and we says to him, “For Christ sake, Snouty, sit down.” He was always growling, anyway – even on the pitch he would growl, letting the guy he was marking hear him gggrrrr and I used to think I’m glad he’s playing for me, not against me. He made a lot of noise and I’m sure it frightened a lot of players. Ray Kennedy went out for a breath of fresh air, and their captain and a couple of supporters walked by and said something to him, and Ray, who wouldn’t take any lip from anyone, gave some back and they started fighting. Then Peter Marinello went out and he was getting thrown across a car by these supporters. And then Bob Wilson ran out and ran straight back in saying [Frank affects a jelly-like voice], “There’s a fight outside…” So me and Eddie Kelly, who liked a fight, we were out there. It went off for about ten minutes, there was someone on my back punching the back of my head and I had hold of his pal whacking him. All of a sudden the police came and pulled their guns out.’ End of skirmish. The moral of the story is anytime, anyplace, anywhere. Which doesn’t refer to a liking for a flurry of fisticuffs, but does affirm that every Arsenal man could rely, absolutely, on the help of his team-mates. And they didn’t even have to be asked.” (p.49)
Amy Lawrence: There was a favourite section to every chapter so it was hard to choose. But I always loved this story of a scrap at Lazio that was important to the team spirit and siege mentality of this team. The heartfelt way Frank expressed it, with his special mix of humour and intensity, adds so much to it. Frank is so evocative in his language when story telling. To have the team’s character – and characters – brought so brilliantly to life through his words was very special. Particularly as I was too young to remember the 1970-71 team first hand, I was fascinated to get such a vivid picture of what made this group so special.
2. The Library Legend's choice
"'Our spirit held us in good stead. The media was against us and we had a responsibility to avoid putting the club in even more dire straits. Millwall might have had the song "No one likes us, we don't care", but I think that was appropriate for Arsenal. What they couldn't do was destroy our team spirit. I thought we had the best players to win the title in those days anyway but there was no one who had team spirit like ours. We'd been slaughtered in more ways than one and the only way to show our resilience was to stay together and get the points to win the Championship. It never crossed our minds that we'd blown it. The immediate reaction was to do it for ourselves.'" (p.124)
Jon Spurling: There's an Aladdin's cave of quotes and nuggets to choose from Amy's wonderful homage to Arsenal's greatest games, but I've plumped for the late great and much missed David Rocastle's take on Arsenal's title charge in the 90-91 season. Following the feisty clash at Old Trafford, which resulted in a 1-0 Arsenal victory, the infamous brawl, and the two point deduction, Arsenal were written off in some sections of the media, with the title seemingly destined for Anfield. But no one connected with Arsenal - the fans, the players and manager George Graham - was having any of it. The fans adopted the chant 'You can stick yer two points up your arse', as the Gunners overcame the odds and won the title comfortably (in the end), with Liverpool eventually a distant second. Rocky's take on Arsenal's indomitable spirit and refusal to give in encapsulates perfectly the dogmatic spirit embodied by George Graham's band of brothers in the late '80s and early '90s.
3. The Librarian's choice
"We are David Dein and Ken Friar, head honchos guiding the club into the 21st century. We are Bondholders who forked out £1,500 to stay on the North Bank and Junior Gunners who are enrolled by their parents 20 minutes after their birth. We are Frank McLintock and Tony Adams, skippers whose leadership qualities would win the respect of the captains of yesteryear. We are Pat Rice, George Armstrong, Liam Brady, Don Howe, David Court and Paul Davis, former players who still work at Highbury. We are George Graham and David Rocastle, Arsenal men wherever they may roam. We are physios, masseurs and dieticians; the bloke who used to weave through the terraces hawking peanuts; the fans who queue up for bagels at half-time. We are executive-box holders and regulars in the disabled section. We are Gary, Markus and Matthew phoning from Holland, Sweden and New York for the latest on the Arsenal's fortunes. We are Cliff Bastin and lan Wright; Herbert Chapman and Arsène Wenger. Times change but the family lives on." (p.11)
Highbury Librarian: As you will have noticed, this is Amy’s updated version of the passage she lifted from a 1971 matchday programme. This 1997 re-imagining of Harry Homer’s words is framed in terms of continuity: "Twenty-six years later: new names, same spirit." Not only good old Arsenal, but also, though so many decades have rolled by, this is the same old Arsenal. Furthermore, from those that are to-the-North-Bank-born to those that came to the party fashionably late, and whether one starts the journey to home matches at a tube station, a departure lounge or a TV remote control, this Arsenal is for everyone.
AFTERWORD
Needless to say, I recommend ‘Proud To Say That Name’ most highly. I’d also like to draw your attention to the Arsenal books that Amy Lawrence has published since: ‘Invincible’ (2014), ‘The Wenger Revolution: 20 Years of Arsenal’ (2016, with Stuart MacFarlane), ‘The Wenger Revolution: The Club of My Life’ (2018, with Stuart MacFarlane) and ‘89’ (2019). She regularly writes about Arsenal for ‘The Athletic’ and can frequently be heard on the ‘Handbrake Off’ podcast - typically, seeking to becalm the boyish optimism of Ian Stone.
Huge thanks are owed to Amy Lawrence, who gave her time most generously. During the preparation of this feature article, she was far more open and encouraging than I had any right to expect.
To finish, I’d like to thank not only Jon Spurling for selecting the ‘Library legend’ quote, but also you – the reader – for taking the time to make it through this challengingly-long read. I hope you found some points of interest along the way and, moreover, that you feel suitably encouraged to read – or, perhaps, re-read – this brilliantly insightful and wonderfully rewarding book.
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