1. The stadium was shiny and new, all right, but maybe a bit too large and impersonal for my taste.  Just ask the Guy and the Girl--I don't care for new stuff and I am opposed to skyboxes on moral grounds.  (Yes, yes, I understand the economics of them, but that doesn't make them likable). 
2. There were definitely more women at this match than I remember at the Chelsea-Everton match in 1997.  How do I know this?  The Girl and I sped down to the ladies' as the whistle blew to end the first half.  We were rewarded with two empty stalls, but as we left a substantial queue snaked out the door. 
3. Our seats were in a high corner tier, not affording a perfect view by any means, but better than I had hoped for.  It was still difficult to identify the players when they were on the far end of the pitch.  From where we sat, David James' strangely coiffed head appeared to be fairly normal, come to think of it.
4. The fans were as intensely involved in the game as I had expected.  There was no constant stream of spectators flowing between concession stands and their seats.  And the proportion of fans who were children was negligible, in sharp contrast to MLS games.  At some Chicago Fire games it seems that half the spectators at any given game are under ten years old.

I freely admit that these observations are neither original nor insightful!  In fact, since returning home, I've spent my days in a frenzied game of catch-up with Christmas.  We have yet to put up the tree, cookie-baking has begun only because of an iron-clad commitment to bring cookies to a party this evening, and, at the rate I'm going, neither The Guy nor The Girl has a reasonable expectation of finding anything at all in their Christmas stockings.  I owe my foggy brain to a mere three hours of sleep last night.

Just three days home and London is a distant memory.

So, dear readers, I will spare you any more football-related platitudes and return as soon as my favorite Muse, Podaspheria, sees fit to send a little inspiration my way.

London is calling...just one week from today...

On the evening of December 9, The Guy, The Girl, and I will board a jet that will deliver us, groggy & unwashed, to Heathrow the next morning.  I'm still working on strategies to induce sleep on the plane, as I am determined not to spend the next day crashed in the hotel or sleepwalking through Hyde Park.  After all, I have only a single week and there are so many steps to retrace.

 What is the itinerary for this journey? Here's what we have so far:

1.       We will see Billy Elliot.

2.       We will eat Sticky Toffee Pudding.

3.       We will read tabloids. I once asked a newsagent to recommend a fun & trashy one for the train ride back from Wimbledon and she suggested, with a smile, The Sun.  You lads will notice that a Page Three link has been helpfully provided in the left column.

4.       We will ride the Tube.   

5.       And, best of all, we will walk.

Our destinations include, but are not limited to:

·         Knightsbridge.  Let's see, do I own anything posh enough to wear that day? 

·          Kings Road in Chelsea.  For that I'll need something that's fun, yet still costly-looking. 

·          The Portobello Road market.  Like Hugh Grant & Julia Roberts in Notting Hill.

·           Hans Place.  I can see The Girl walking to school...

·           Sloane Square.  See Knightsbridge, above.

·           South Kensington.  I have fond memories of an Indian restaurant across from the Tube station.

·           Harrods & Harvey Nichols--just looking, thanks.

·          The Bunch of Grapes--I do hope they still serve half-pints.

·          The Tea Clipper (our old next-door neighbors).

·           The V & A, Trafalgar Square, Leicester Square & other well-known landmarks & museums.

·           Abbey Road, though I won’t flag down a kind stranger to photograph us as we stroll through the famous zebra.  I will admit that it was only my fear of being run down that kept me from standing in the street to capture a photo of The Girl doing that the last time we were there, way back in 2000. 

What else do we have planned?  I know that I am forgetting something...What was it that I was hoping to do during this December trip to London?  Something that couldn't be done during June or July or early August...something that is distinctly English.  Well, not really English--I believe Justin Hoyte was the lone Englishman who started in Arsenal's recent loss to Fulham--but certainly an essential London experience for a soccer blogger.

Oh right, it was the matter of the Arsenal-Portsmouth match on December 16! 

I started looking into the ticket situation several weeks ago.  First--silly me—I went to the Arsenal website.  This was not helpful, as club means just that--membership is required to purchase tickets directly.  Arsenal has several different membership levels, but the ones that offered the easiest access to tickets were full.  Though it's possible to become a Red member of "The Arsenal," I am quite sure that this level didn't offer access to tickets for the Portsmouth match when I looked. 

I became even more discouraged when I looked into the Reading-Blackburn match.  That's because only about 2500 seats are available for each home game and these are allocated to club members according to points they have already accumulated by attending games.  I guess it's not really a Catch-22 situation, but it's pretty darn close.  

Finally, Charlton Athletic plays at home against Liverpool on the 16th.  But those tickets had not yet been released by the club when I checked out the Charlton site.  And then....I admit that I forgot about that game.  I think there may be some seats available if I call the club's ticket office, so I suppose I could follow up on that. 

But I don't really care about Charlton & Liverpool.  Arsenal is far more interesting, their shameful result against Fulham notwithstanding.  So I looked at some of those ticket agencies on the web--the ones that sell seats to all the big sold-out events.  You know, the ones that sell seats at the true market price.  And I discovered that the going rate was between 125 and 150 pounds.  Which would be about $250-$300.  For one ticket.  And there are three of us.

That explains why one of my tasks for next week is to find the perfect pub from where we can watch the game. 

Any suggestions?