In the latest of our occasional ‘Behind Enemy Lines’ series, Ross Smith reports back on a day of making the most of Arsenal’s hospitality at QPR’s recent trip to Ashburton Grove.

Is there a sadder sight in football at the moment than the fixture wall chart given away with the QPR season tickets back in the summer with each of the 12 poor results clocked up so far filled in?

A few weeks back, whilst staring lazily at it and looking at the up and coming games, I wearily picked off a few away matches that were do-able and ones sadly, not so do-able.

Arsenal was just a few weeks away and selling out fast so I sadly considered this one for the latter category and placed a stern cross next to the date. I comforted myself with the excuse that I’d done that fixture anyway, on New Year's Eve last season, with a ridiculous hangover brought on by the previous night.

I sat through that game on my own, feeling rough as hell, behind the obligatory one bloke out 3,000 who constantly felt the need to stand up at every opportunity whether the ball was near or not and tear strips off a couple of players he considered “dog shit”, thus blocking my otherwise impeccable view of the one sided affair panning out before us in Neil Warnock’s penultimate game in the Premier League. By the time 90 minutes was up I was left to reflect that my visit to the Emirates Stadium that afternoon wasn’t quite the adventure I had hoped for.

So to miss out on this one seemed a logical solution to my creaking finances, recently crippled by a house move and four months of DIY and care free spending on serious, grown up things such as carpets, flooring, plasterboard, windows, plumbers and a lot of brown nosing to the soon to be in laws in the way of meals and drinks in exchange of their hand in some DIY expertise. Add to that the expense of a wedding next year which demands sums of money like a newly promoted Premier League outfit’s first dip into the transfer window. I mean, £1,000 hard cash for a photographer who is just out of university for one day's work plus the added insult of a sample wedding album which the other half now has her heart set on which comes in at a extra £350 (including discount if you pay now). Jesus Christ, I’d have paid the said photographer £50 on the sly to have her not bring that bloody thing to the table during her sales pitch last week at our home.

But then, a rare bit of fortune fell my way. Our chief bridesmaid - or whatever title you give to them in order to turn their life upside down with a heap of responsibility and over use of their time – has a boyfriend who is an Arsenal fan. Not only that, but he has a regular season ticket at the Emirates in corporate hospitality through his employers and he wanted to know if I would like a complimentary ticket to join him for the QPR match whilst his other half comes over to my house to discuss wedding issues with my bride to be. Whilst I considered witty one liners involving bears, trees and the calling of nature I duly accepted this opportunity with both hands and both feet whilst simultaneously pretending to be concerned about the lack of DIY activity this unexpected afternoon out would inevitably cause and how the in-laws to be would feel coming over to help when the proprietor is not around. “One of those things, I’m sure they won’t mind” I was told to my barely concealed amusement.

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Approaching the Emirates is a somewhat bizarre walk; the arena seems to lurk quietly beyond the old terraced houses, which surround what remains of the original Highbury stadium. You then get to a somewhat out of place looking modern entrance requiring a steep climb up some steps to a footbridge which takes you through what feels like the gap between to the old world and the brave new one, almost instantaneous time travel where old fashioned Saturday football meets the modern game. Suddenly you're bang outside the stadium in all its corporate money making glory; the blueprint of a modern football club a stone's throw from the club's previous home. I conclude, in a this time sober and alert frame of mind, that Arsenal have nailed it.

So travelling into the Royal Oak corporate suite entails entrance through train station type gates to be then greeted by the Emirates staff all suited and booted and handing out complimentary programmes to all those passing through. Another ascend, this time by escalator, and you’re in the suite itself. Wow, this is what it’s like eh? Spacious, warm, bars a plenty with small flowing queues, food kiosks everywhere - even one serving a choice of Indian dishes and breads. Seating and tables in abundance all overlooking the glorious stadium itself where the lush green pitch is occupied by a few players going through their usual pre-match routines.

This is not football the way your average match going fan has been brought up, this is entertainment for the world of businessmen and the privileged. Christ, you put some of these, and for the purpose of this article I’ll call them customers over the title of fans, in to some of the shitholes the average fan will frequent on regular a basis and they’d be back on the weekend golf courses in their weird trousers wondering how on earth this game of ours demands such a multi billion pound industry to fund itself. I actually feel sorry for the young kids who attend these games with their rich parents as they probably see this as normality and, sadly for them, they will never experience the match day as a real father and son tradition. But, saying that, they probably think such people are mad buggers and I guess from an outsider's point of view, they would have justifiable reason for that.

The Royal Oak suite has the same ambience as an airport waiting lounge which I’m guessing is probably what they had in mind with the design given the sponsor's line of business. It’s all ultra impressive in a kind of 'no expense spared' way. The walls are decorated to impose the club and its sponsors on you at every opportunity and all areas come complete with Sky Sports on multiple big screens here and there and then a huge projector screen on the outside where rows and rows of seats are lined up for people to watch the lunchtime kick off or team news for the game about to start on the pitch outside.

So, at 3pm we made our way outside to the seating area, and took in the view. We sat on the cushioned seats in the middle ring section of the ground just above and behind the goal with legroom a Wookie would feel comfortable in and a big screen opposite which is perfectly viewable. In the distance to my left side of the opposite goal I saw the vast array of blue and white and as the Arsenal fans around us were their usual sombre selves, I could hear the Rangers fans in good voice. A feeling dawned over me that I’ve never really felt comfortable infiltrating the opposing team's supporters on the few occasions I’ve resorted to this drastic action, so for a minute at least I longed to be among those fans singing loud and proud opposite.

Now corporate fans are a very different bunch indeed. I’d say only 80% are actually fans of the team they are watching. To my left I had two middle aged American men who were obviously here on a freebie before jetting back home, constantly engaging in worldly matters most of which went over my head but I did pick up on their concerns about the folk back home bracing themselves for some kind of weather system which I didn’t really pay much attention to at the time.

From time to time the volume in the Arsenal masses below and above us would pick up quickly but then in equal measure drop away again as the few songs rolled out never really picked up enough voices to embrace a unison effort before petering out, much like their attempts on the QPR penalty box at this stage of the contest.

The Rangers fans predictably drowned out the home fans when their own regular songs got going but sadly on the pitch there was little to get overly excited about. The Arsenal fans themselves only really formed any kind of home presence when they disagreed with a referee’s decision on a throw or a free kick not being given for a decent hard challenge, the likes of which the home faithful and their manager appear to be unable to fathom.

At half time we headed back indoors to the warm comfort of the Royal Oak suite and to my horror the queue for the toilets was horrendous. It seems that that we have our first oversight here; the airport lounge design obviously didn’t take into account the famous football fans' equation of lots of beer consumption plus 45 minutes of football in cold weather and a bladder the size of raisin, which is what mine equates to after several pints of lager followed by a shift in the cold autumn afternoon air.

Deciding to skip the wait for now, I was pleasantly surprised to see big mobile fridges full of free complimentary bottles of lager – well, Carlsberg of the green variety thanks to another corporate sponsor deal, but free all the same. I took one and one for luck and lurked around in front of the screen taking in the halftime scores elsewhere. The beer actually tasted good, so having devoured my first bottle and necked the second, I traipsed back for another, after all its bloody free isn’t it? To my disappointment they’d all gone; seems every other sod had the same idea. My drinking partner for the day casually directs me to another hidden area where a table lays in wait full of pre poured pints. After getting my freebies worth I headed to the toilets to conclude my original half time quest.

Bladder emptied ready for the next 45 minutes I wondered how this endeavour will end. When M’Bia chased a loose ball on the edge of the QPR penalty box to my left and was felled by Vermaelen I had my answer. The referee obliged with a free kick which provoked sighs from the Arsenal support around me as the resilient QPR defence had once again broken down the home team's advances. The sound of the whistle was as clear as daylight and I heard it from over 20 yards away and a good 15 feet up from pitch level. M’Bia must have heard it but, in what now seems to have become the obligatory reaction, he kicked out at Vermealen who went to ground like a sack of shit. Red card out and QPR go on to lose the game, albeit by an offside goal to pour salt over the gushing self inflicted fatal blow moments earlier. Yep-same old Rangers.

I was quite angry about it and felt cheated (even though the experience was all free) that we once again tossed away what was a competent performance in a moment of rank stupidity. I would like to think the club will fine M’Bia some serious wages for that incident. It would appear that’s what players care about most these days and the obvious deterrent. In fact if I were Mark Hughes, I’d be so pissed off with this happening again I’d take a bloody firm stance from now on with an almost Full Metal Jacket like take on it. I’d put in place a policy where if one player gets a red for a stupid moment of insanity like this, which is what we’ve all seen happen time and time again, I’d fine each and every single player out there a weeks wages too. Fuck em.

So again I came away from The Emirates having watched QPR lose 1-0 having made a better fist of this time round then they had done in the last days of Neil Warnock’s charge. This time though the defeat was harder to take as I felt we’d done enough (pardon the Hughes phrase here) to get a draw and had we shown a bit more intent, there wasn’t much between to the sides to suggest we could have won on another day. I sat in the Royal Oak suite after the final whistle and cast my eyes on the biggest screen this side of North London to watch an appalling ESPN game between Swansea and Man City whilst simultaneously berating my own team’s woeful start to the season.

After years of watching disappointing QPR games from crappy cramped seats with obstructed views and paying vast sums of money for the privilege, I would be forgiven for thinking that such a lifestyle as this could actually suit me from time to time. I mean who wouldn’t if only personal income could support it?

It certainly highlighted for me the difference between a club like Arsenal and QPR. The stadium Arsenal has built is by far my favourite new stadium I’ve been fortunate enough to visit. Sadly the way of it is, I don’t think I’ll get the chance to see QPR here again for a third consecutive season.

Pictures – Ross Smith, Action Images

Photo: Action Images

londonscottish added 10:30 - Nov 14 Good summary. I want to see Arsenal play Man City and Stoke on corporate freebies a couple of seasons ago and enjoyed the luxury part of the equation. But not a lot of passion from those around me, of course. This season I got two tickets for the QPR game in the corner of the North and West stands, lower section and enjoyed it more. There were enough proper Arsenal fans there to make it seem like a proper game and it was still ridiculously easy to get a drink/hose one out compared to LR.

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