Neapolitan Like You

Early on Saturday morning I made my way to Bath Railway Station to start a long day which would see me visit Stadium Emirates - home of Walmart Football Club.



I had paid money to Walmart to watch the team in action. Mr. Walmart must be happy as thousands of other fans also put money into his pockets.



The Underground is a useful means of getting around London. When its working. I can only presume that on Saturday there were minor hiccups preventing it from running smoothly.



Getting off at Highbury & Islington left me with the dilemma of how to kill time till the late afternoon kickoff. I decided upon traipsing around Islington to locate a trusty Starbucks to refuel and have some lunch.

Thankfully I made it there safely without being cut in half by one of the 5 Galatasary fans who travelled all the way from their kebab shop on Holloway Road.



On a serious note Galatasary fans are the most loathsome and despicable bunch of supporters in world sport. April 2000: Galatasary fans murdered Leeds' fans Christopher Lofthouse and Kevin Speight (Rest In Peace).

A Fenerbahce fan also lost his life as recently as this May as a result of their evil fanbase. Arsenal Football Club let itself down badly by inviting the Istanbul club to its ground.

It was, contrary to weather forecasts, hot and sunburny at the Emirates. The Walmart players looked like the heat got to them too. Our guests from Naples generously showed us how to score goals and went 2-0 up with Marek Hamsik pulling all the strings.

Ruh-roh!



Thankfully Arsene Wenger jibber-jabbered something in French, Napoli stopped giving the slightest shit and the Walmart scored some goals. 2-2.

It was still hot. If the tube situation was annoying pre-match it was unbelievable afterwards..



By that time I was both tired and grumpy. And ill. A few years later I found myself at Paddington station.

With 2 hours before my return journey I chanced my arm and cheekily asked if I could board an earlier train. I was told I could but that the Station Dobermans would shortly be removing me by my testicles. I calmly withdrew my request.

The eventual train ride home became quite pleasant after Reading station. Most of a busy carriage departed leaving me to drink my smuggled bottle of Sheppys in peace and quiet.