FOR THE LOVE OF ARSENAL (EPISODE 2)


      Lanre continues his story of when his loyalty to Arsenal and his work went head  to head with his work. In case  you missed episode 1, read it  here

After tiding up my work for the day I was ready to go home, I was already halfway out of the office before my newly married co-worker Meg, called me back for some clarification on a “slight grey area” in the presentation. As it turned out the slight grey area expanded to become an extensive grey area that took the better part of two hours to sort out. At a point Meg’s feelings that her husband would be home alone and hungry (she just returned from her honeymoon two days ago), started to go from sounding like thoughts to looking like complaints, we agreed to stop at that point and continue the next day, (I must admit that if we had proceeded beyond that point, I would not have had anything else to contribute except, tactics and probable starting line up of the Arsenal team, because that was all I had in my head). It was nearly seven pm when I left the office. The first sign I noted as i drove home was that that the traffic from the island to the mainland was rather light; I took that as a positive sign for tonight’s game. At this rate i should get home in the next hour, which is a fantastic improvement over the minimum two or three hours I usually take.  Well my luck was not entirely good, I still ran into pockets of traffic jams but still it was a still a good sign. I took that as a sign that Arsenal’s victory might not be flawless but Arsenal would still win all the same. I was nearly nine pm when I pulled into my street. There was no time to go home. If  I went home, Folake would never allow me back out, she would whinge continuously about having to stay home alone in the dark until my guilty conscience forced me to back down and stay with her. Looking back I think I should have called her to tell her I’ll be home late, she woulf have understood, but I was caught in the euphoria of the whole game and remembered nothing else. I pulled into the first place with a working generator I could find. It was a football viewing centre and the place was so packed with people that was barely anywhere to swing a cat  and so we got on with the viewing. That was the beginning of my troubles.
  The match itself was a forgettable affair. Arsenal missed a lot of scoring chances, put up a lifeless and abject performance and ultimately lost.  After that blast of the final whistle, I had to close my eyes for a few minutes to stop the hot tears that threatened to fall from my eyes and to attempt to shut out the vision of our last chance to win a trophy  going up in flames. A wave of nausea came over me and for the first few seconds i felt like walking of a bridge. A shroud came over my mood as I walked to my car and it took all my mental fortitude to help me not drive into a ditch on my way home. I even nearly drove past my house and it took a last minute awareness of my surroundings for me not to drive past my own gate.

         (TO BE CONTINUED)

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