Today we revisit a classic tale where Frank looks back, more in sorrow than in anger, to re-tell a chilling tale of a long-lost summer of love, terrible betrayal and lots of super furry animals.
Today’s page turner …
I was mugged in Seven Sisters.
To be accurate I was attacked in Seven Sisters since nothing was stolen.
Cold bloodedly gratuitously attacked. A summer afternoon several decades ago spent with a friend and I was heading home to Tufnell Park. It was an early evening in July but I could hardly see as I turned into the tunnel heading for the tube, eating sausage and chips. Out of nowhere something hit me on the back of the head and just as I turned, a fist hit me in the mouth. I fell to the ground in a daze and the protagonists proceeded to kick the living shit out of me.
There was a lot a ‘fackin’ this’ and ‘kantin that’ as the boots went in and afterwards just the sound of nasal snickering. Before I passed out I caught a glimpse of two of them. One in white trousers and a bowler hat with ‘Tottenham Droogies’ written across the back. The other had calf-length faded jeans, docs, white tee shirt, braces …. and a tattoo on his forearm.
A tattoo of a cock and ball.
I must have been out for a while because when I woke up, the ends of the tunnel were dark. The reek of urine and unwashed bodies was only just bearable. I was surrounded by squashed chips and, nestling in the gutter by the wall with not a bite out of it, was my sausage. My head hurt like hell, split lip, bumps and bruises all over but I seemed to be OK.
I’d got away with it.
Could have been killed. Could have been maimed or paralyzed for life. Thankfully I had done what most blokes who are being kicked in the head do, I protected my privates. Death is preferable to castration.
I had survived.
Slowly I got up. I just wanted to get home. Brushed off the fag ends, chewing gum, dog shit. Stretched out my arms and then my legs, moved my head from side to side. Tested my aching bones. Nothing broken. Lets go home, Frank. Then someone behind me coughed.
I spun round afraid that they had come back to finish me off.
But there standing in front of me was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had on an ankle length yellow dress and sandals. She had long, long tresses of red hair and her smile was extraordinary; it could fill a room, or, in this case, a tunnel. Her smell was intoxicating and as she touched my face with her hand I just knew that she was an angel.
I was dead and on my way to heaven.
She asked me if I was okay. She asked me if I was in pain. She asked if there was anything she could do for me … and before I could answer she passed me her guinea pig and started mopping my brow.
Guinea pig?
What the feck?
She gave me a guinea pig? Well yes she did. She handed me her guinea pig. Cleaned me up. Took her guinea pig back. Held my hand and took me to Tufnell Park.
That is how I met Maude.
Oh Maude, Maude, Maude – you were perfect. She took me home to my apartment and stayed for three weeks. What a three weeks!
Idyllic.
Walking on the Heath. Drinking in The Flask in Highgate. Strolling through Waterlow Park. Saying “hello” to Karl Marx. Wearing each others’ clothes.
Actually she wore mine, I didn’t wear hers, I really didn’t. Getting drunk together on Grand Marnier and sick together afterwards. Listening to a friend play folk songs outside the Admiral Mann. I even started to read poetry, although it didn’t last. Mostly though, we just made love. Anywhere and everywhere.
In that time I was treated to a parade of animals.
Guinea pigs, rats, hamsters, geckos, turtles, tortoises, parrots, budgies, kittens, puppies, fish, snakes, you name it.
Every day she would disappear for a few hours and return with different animals. Only on Sundays would she return without an animal and on Sunday evenings she was always very tired. The explanation turned out to be a bit crazy but I could deal with it. She let on that she was into animal liberation and spent much of her time nicking animals from pet shops and domestic animal stockists.
Her aim in life was to free them all.
Create an animal utopia where they could all live free from human bondage. How she managed to get plastic bags of tropical fish and a twelve foot python out of a shop without anyone noticing I have no idea. But she did it. Insane of course, and I loved her all the more for it. We were madly, stupidly, giddily happy.
Until that fateful day in early August.
So far we had lived in my flat. It was OK. But I was getting more and more curious. Where did she live? How long? What was it like? Was she sure that she was not using the animals as a cover for her sneaking back to a long time live-in partner or husband?
Joke, sort of. What was she hiding?
After much cajoling on my part she finally agreed that we could stay at her place. She lived in a flat on the first floor of a Victorian house on the A10 near to the junction with Clapton Common. She had been on her way home when she found me in the tunnel.
So off we went.
We spent a pleasant few hours in the Spaniards’ Inn and went to a party with friends in Stoke Newington. Caught a taxi to hers. Let ourselves in.
Her living room was full of no-longer-soon-to-be-pets.
It was smelly and it was noisy, but she cleared a space and we sat and drank tea and chatted amongst the boxes, cages, baskets and tanks. Finally we fell into bed exhausted. The following day was Monday and neither of us needed to get up early. We were very soon fast asleep in each others arms.
We awoke on Monday morning refreshed. She made cups of tea and brought them back to bed. Gradually we began to get interested, the way you do.
We kissed and cuddled …
Then Maude whispered that she would like to make love in daylight amongst the trees and birdsong. Her garden was beautiful at this time of year, she said. She asked me to open the curtains and open the window.
Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.
About as excited as I have ever been in my life I leapt out of bed, hopped to the almost full-length sash window and threw open the red velvet curtains to let the sun in …
The No 149 bus route has been transporting the residents of that area to the City for many years and I believe that it still does to this day.
In the days of the old Routemasters, in the rush hour the bottom deck was crammed full of people, many standing and some dangling from the platform at the back. Upstairs was calmer and those fortunate enough to get a seat were able to read the paper or a book, do the crossword, do the Pools, knit, or in most cases just sit and watch the world go by. There are a number of points on that journey where the bus comes to a standstill for quite a while as the traffic gets well and truly jammed.
One particular point is just outside Maude’s flat.
The floor of the top deck on those buses is roughly about the level of the first floor of that particular block of houses, and the windows of the bus are about six feet from the residents’ windows. You can see awful lot from the top of that bus and on that day passengers had a real treat.
As the curtains opened they were greeted with … think of Leonardo’s Study of Human Proportions according to Vitruvius.
But weedier and in a state of arousal.
For my own part I just remember seeing an endless stream of tickets coming out of the Clippie’s machine and thinking thank goodness they can’t see my feet because I’ve still got my socks on. I turned to shout at Maude for setting me up, and as I did so I noticed something. Something very serious indeed. Something which caused me to shut out the embarrassment of the last few seconds completely. I couldn’t believe it. I froze. The blood drained from my face and obviously from other places.
The bottom fell completely out of my world.
In the lower right hand corner of the window was a sticker. Not a very big one, about the size of a bob-a-job sticker. But this particular sticker had a motif on it. A dreadful symbol.
A cock and ball.
We just hadn’t discussed football. People had the summer off in those days. No transfer activity. I turned to her and just shouted “TOTTENHAM” at her at the top of my voice. At first she completely misunderstood and she laughed and shouted: “YES. YOU TOO …?”.
But before she could finish, she realised.
It was probably me screaming “YOU ARE A FARKING SPUD” that gave it away. Her beautiful face contorted into an ugly grimace and in a vicious whisper she spat “Arsenal. You are a fecking Gunner? You bastard”.
I couldn’t stay.
I needed air. I grabbed my clothes, putting them on as I scrambled through the menagerie in the living room. I got to the front door and slammed it to, shutting out the cacophony behind me. I headed for a café on the corner of the block, ordered coffee and just sat in a window seat sipping and smoking. I half expected her to follow and to be honest I half hoped that she would.
But I realised it was over.
I could take the pet rustling and I could even take being humiliated in front of a bus full of people but I could not take the fact that she was a SPUD. That could never work.
But that was not quite the end of it.
As I sipped my third coffee, having smoked half a pack of cigarettes, two panda cars and a police van arrived at her flat. Maude was led out in handcuffs and for the next hour policemen loaded the back of the van with her contraband, Noah’s Ark fashion. I felt bad about that at the time as I watched her driven away in the back of the police car it seemed unjust that she should go down for stealing animals when she had such good if not misguided intentions. It turned out in court about six weeks later though, that every Sunday she ran a pet stall on Club Row.
She had been nicking pets and flogging them on. She also stole them to order.
I will always remember Maude though and if I ever meet her again, which is very unlikely, I know exactly what I will say to her……………
“CARMON ARSENAL CARMON ARSENAL CARMON ARSENAL
ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAL….ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAAAAL…ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAL….ARSENAL….ARSENAL”
Frank can occasionally be found on Twitter @ohdearaaah
Positively Arsenal 
My favorite article of all time on any Arsenal blog.
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Mine too George,it gets better with every read.
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hah what a fucking story ? “i want to make love listening to birdsongs”..ahahahhhh..brilliant…
goodmorning
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Perhaps Maude is an Arsenal fan today, like some Spurs fans. You know that silent minority or is it majority of Spurs fans that relate only in terms of where Spurs sits in relation to Arsenal and how Spurs play compared to Arsenal, or how its own players might be that good compared to or even at Arsenal, showing such love and attention to Arsenal in acknowledging that Spurs identity subsists in relation to Arsenal.
Every August, yawn, without fail the English media announce this as the season when Spurs will succeed on their own terms because of new manager, fabulous new players, depth, style, attitude, white strip. It is an annual event. And every year Spurs loyally attach their fortunes, and thus affinity, to how like Arsenal they might become. Its an annual event. Tim, I felt, was especially sincere and quite honest about it.
Affinity. No day will pass without seeing 3, 4, 10 or more Arsenal shirts in downtown Harare. This affinity is a fact, I do not exaggerate. I will now and then greet people, knuckle to knuckle (one love, as we say), point to their shirt and ask if they enjoyed our last game. We have a quick chat and go our ways. Very occasionally, I am reminded that I have never actually seen a Spurs shirt, actually never. Well, this is Africa after all.
Frank, in your absence I had to paraphrase a few choice Frank sentiments about Stoke fans and club. And I’ve never been to Stoke. Good to have you in the vicinity. Hope your horse is OK and you are enjoying this season again; I think it’s been fabulous myself, enjoying every bit of it.
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Kompany out in the first ten minutes. Hull stays calm and they can take all three points.
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Top quality Frank – it would be worth a TV series on BBC4 IMO
Keeley Hawes as Maude obv.
Tell your agent to call me
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Hull deserves to be relegated.
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Jeez what an act of futility by Hull. Good old 4-4-2 and honest English grit was no match for a 10 man City. The total lack of creativity was embarrassing. As Gainsy said they deserve to be relegated. Unfortunately they won’t.
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Lady Neena and Peter are very well thank you, ZimPaul. As for Maude I have no idea. Probably in Marbella but you never know she might be in the crowd at that other place tomorrow.
.
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I hope Hull don’t win another game between now and the end of the season.
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I’m going to name drop now…I have met Keeley Hawes many times and she doesn’t look much like Maude, although with dyed red hair it might work. I would probably have to work quite closely with her to get the character exactly right which I guess I might be prepared to do if I absolutely had to.
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Good to hear Frank prepared to put in the hours helping Keeley get up to speed.
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Btw, Seebs’ article yesterday on The Run In is well worth revisiting if you did miss it …
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Actually Andrew I’ve just read Seebs piece from yesterday & it’s bloody brilliant,what a talented crew George is putting together on here.
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One of the Frank classics!
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Thanks for the re-post
Hope you are good Frank
–
Hehehe
Nine man Chelsea. Ramires and William (not a loss) out for the Arsenal game? Give that linesman who spotted Matic’s handball a medal!
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Whahahahahahaha! What a fantastic prelude to the games tomorrow. We have to beat the cock and balls, and the Mancs have to beat buck toothed cheater and his crew.
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They’re both out, Fins. Ramires is a huge loss for them. Also, Matic is shit. They were robbed twice with that crap player.
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Mourinho, do you want some ketchup with those french cries? What a little bitch.
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Frank
That’s the third time I’ve read that…and not on here…….It just as good very time….I even read bits of it to my Spud wife…..she had to smile……
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I need to swear. I found the Hull City performance today an insult to my footballing senses…..what a bunch of hopeless twats…….they deserve nothing….they were fucking useless…..I hope they don’t turn it on against Sheffield United…..
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PG
I think you should post just one piece a day…..I need a day to digest a piece and comment….otherwise it’s like London buses….Seebs post was fuckin excellent in case anyone hasn’t read it…..
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Seebs was yesterday.
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Georgaki, If this article has appeared anywhere else there will be hell to pay.
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PG
Truly, I’ve read it twice before and certainly before PA came into existence….
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Seebs was yesterday? Sorry, about that…I’ve have been seriously distracted these last few weeks…
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Good weekend so far though….
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I wrote it for PA when it started so that’s a bit weird? Unless now let me think…..think, think…I think we might have evidence of time travel here,maybe a wormhole even. Some fucker has traveled forward in time, read my article, gone back and made it available before it was written…or….chance in a billion, billion by extraordinary coincidence someone has written the same article having had the same experience of a Spud called Maude? If the former it is entirely possible that someone out there not only knows the result of tomorrows game but they could be earning a fortune at the bookies…hang on someone just won £107m on the eurolottery. Its them, its fucking them. The people who won the eurolottery have nicked my piece. I’m going to phone them up and demand compensation…..
…and after that I’m going to phone Keeley Hawes
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…and hats off to a_or_b. Excellent and proper football post.yesterday
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There you go Georgaki, straight from Lady Nina’s mouth
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tee hee hee…..no Willian, no Ramires vs the Arse.
Hope none of ours get red carded tomorrow
“Play smart Kos!”
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Oh was that Ramires, the dirty little fucker who stamps on feet and achilles tendons at every opportunity with impunity???..I thought they were playing a ringer I didn’t recognise him.
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…and anyway, Aman, I have heard that we have that bastion of impartiality, Mike Dean, officiating tomorrow so we should be OK.
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Mike “the spudlova” Dean???
wtf Frank, we might as well start with 10 men.
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http://hereisthecity.com/en-gb/2014/03/11/jl-arsenal-have-won-just-one-game-in-5-years-with-tottenham-derb/page/1-2/
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someone needs to find out what Dean’s favourite colour is and have a suit made immediately for AW.
Kos & Flamini must be on their best behaviour.
Also suggest we make Ox score all our goals.
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Exactly,Mike the ‘skip when they score’ Dean, let us just say that he had better hope they don’t score tomorrow. Between you and me, Aman, I know people pretty high up in tailoring and they have assured me that his shorts have been ‘adjusted’ so that any skipping motion will cause them to drop round his ankles.
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4pm Sunday late afternoon: whatever happened to all those classic serials? Used to be able to rely on witches and wardrobes providing cover for post-prandial snoozes. No such luck today: Sherwood and his players already talking about blood and thunder and knocking The Arsenal out of their stride, “If we to have to kick we will kick.’ says Adebayor, so it’s a comfort to know that there will be nothing pre-meditated at all. Be prepared for strong stuff later today, and the irony that the Flamster will be the first name in Mike Dean’s little black book.
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Enjoyed the Chelsea game yesterday. Can’t believe they didn’t sign a proper striker in January.
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love this story man I think it’d be great as a small film makes me chuckle everytime, so my fellow gunner@work told me munich were all over us so hit arsenal player bit late I know but watching munich match, I’m thinking we played to contain them and our energy first half, second half we step up given that now tomas comes on for an injured ozil, I’m looking@ munich thinking what lovely players they have & what a shame they feel they have to dive & foul like spoiled brats not unlike playing peps barca then robben dives spectacularly & all I can hope is that they get knocked out somehow. we had the measure of them.
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How the fuck is “yay! tottenham scored, i cant help myself but dance a little mike fucking dean” in charge of yet another derby?
Foreverheady, does it mean Tottenham are giving up on us and now are going to try and be like Stoke?
Considering their two successive defeats, Tottenham will play well and considering their declaration of going physical, I think they are going to come at us hard from the first minute. I hope our guys prepare and Flamini or anybody else doesnt do see red.
Beating us is going to be the highlight of their season, but we have bigger targets on our mind. 10 games. 10 opponents to beat.
Having said that, it is amazing to experience the derby. For some reason, the red and white looks better on derby day, the players play that extra bit better, (the Arsenal pitch looks pristine) and Arsenal become that extra bit dangerous.
Come on Arsenal!
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“I know people pretty high up in tailoring and they have assured me that his shorts have been ‘adjusted’ so that any skipping motion will cause them to drop round his ankles.”
hahahahahahahahaha Frank…exposing his lilywhite hotspur panties no doubt.
CARMON ARSENAL!!!
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I sense either the historic “1-0” or 2014’s preferred “4-1” to the Arsenal.
Either way here’s to Carl Jenkinson scoring his first.
CARMON GUNNER JENKINSON!!!
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Aside from Russian-tycoon mega-buckery, the over-bearing entitlement cheered on by the media chaps, the blue strip, a very funny (not ha ha) somewhat disturbed manager, the despised and leery John Terry, the absence of players one would like to like, and the florid faced fans, Chelsea are a very strange club. I can’t put my finger on it.
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Tottenham are not in the best shape for a derby (that’s dangerous as they may well play with an outrageous “who cares” luck). It will be a contest. Wenger loves these derbies and will go 101%. Spurs will do literally anything to stop Arsenal, they have little else. Should be an intense match I suppose.
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A bit late in the day I know but Frank, this was such an entertaining read, You had me gripped and chuckling to myself all the way through.
Just make sure you start writing more often. I think I need more of this in my life.
*Thumbs up*
Hope all the world of Positively Arsenal are doing well. Let’s smack them lot from down the Lane today and get everyone believing in a title chase again.
COYG
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That is a fantastic read. If it is OK I will re-post it on our site.
Actually I will just do it …..
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Big Daddy, if its OK I will just sue you for copy-right infringement.
Actually I will just do it …..
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HAHA…totnm….hahaaa……
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Well we are back in the race girls and boys. 14 brave heroes on the pitch today especially Koscielny and Mertesacker. I swore, I fretted but I hung in there with them. They made us all proud with there grit and determination. I am in love again.
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