He wasn't an Arsenal fan, but he was at the 1971 FA Cup final. I wasn't born yet (I didn't arrive until September of that double winning year), but he saw Charlie George score that winner and lie flat on his back on the Wembley turf to celebrate. Like so many of his generation, he came to England from Ireland to find work in the late 1950s, and I'm sure my love of football came from him. There was always a ball, always a kick-around in the garden, or on the front lawn of the castle we lived in for a while (honestly, it was a castle). Back then you could just go to a football match. Rock up on a Saturday, and pay your way into the ground depending on who was at home. He lived and worked in...
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