We just had time to take in our new surroundings before the kickoff. The atmosphere built to a crescendo before the ref blew for the start of the game, which went off at the usual derby pace. A few minutes later the inevitable stragglers started to arrive, which always causes irritation and can lead to confrontation. I've learned to be nervous when there are empty seats around me after the game's kicked off - they might as well put signs on the seats saying "Reserved For Dangerous Piss Artists".

If you're familiar with the seating arrangements at Stamford Bridge you will know that the space you're allocated would give a dwarf problems, and would result in the prosecution of the Chelsea authorities if it were provided for a farm animal. This ensures that anyone wanting to pass along a row to their seat causes the maximum disturbance for more people than you would think possible. Everyone in the row has to stand, which means everyone behind also has to stand if something's happening on the pitch, and this causes a knock-on effect right to the back of the stand. When you factor in alcohol and its associated problems of lack of balance and aggression, you've got a recipe for an interesting time, to say the least.

One particular geezer looked like trouble from the start, as I pointed out to Marc and Nobby. Having staggered to his seat in the row in front of us, which had the interesting visual effect of watching somebody pushing over a line of dominoes, he proceeded to mock beat up one of his mates while still standing blocking everyone's view, causing more than one aggrieved punter behind to shout "Siiiiiiiiiidddddooooown !". Instead of "siiiiidddding dooooown" this geezer took it upon himself to tell the entire crowd to fuck off, a la "I will take on the entire crowd of 15,000 people in this grandstand". We shook our heads sadly and filed him away under "Danger - Keep Away". Unfortunately this bloke, who I quietly christened Sue Ellen (after the lush in the famous 1980s TV drama 'Dallas'), wasn't happy with the disturbance he'd already caused. His blood was up, and his mood continued to be surly and aggressive, as drunks so often are. We had an idea that there would be more to come..

We reluctantly turned our attention back to the game, and were soon enthralled by the football once more. Further minor disturbances as more drunks took their seats failed to distract us for long. Chelsea were constantly probing Arsenal's superannuated defence, and as Jimmy H neatly laid off the ball for Poyet's flash shot that blasted just wide, I nudged my neighbour and intoned "It's Only A Matter Of Time.." accompanied by a look that was supposed to indicate a mystical knowledge of the future. In retrospect this explains why he laughed nervously and shifted subtly in the direction of away.

A few minutes later Dennis Wise produced a lovely cross round the back of the defence that was met by an unmarked Jimmy H's ample forehead, and Mr Pringle (Seaman) had to produce a fine save to palm it away. Seaman appeared to have been swimming in a vat of chip fat before the game, as his hair was smarmed down flat over his head, culminating in a ridiculous pony tail that would have looked daft on a bloke half his age. That and the oversized, hairy caterpillar stuck to his lip produced wolf whistles from the Chelsea crowd every time he got the ball. I wonder how long he'll put up with that before he does the decent thing, realises that he isn't Emanuel Petit and gets a decent fucking haircut. I'd make him do National Service, I would. That would soon knock some... (etc).

For those who are interested, the team Chelsea put out was Cudicini, Panucci, Babayaro, Leboeuf, Desailly, Poyet (Melchiot 71), Hasselbaink, Wise, Le Saux (Morris 80), Di Matteo, and Zola (Flo 77). This was my first chance to watch Christian Panucci, and I was impressed. He provided width and aggressive running down the right hand side, was good at keeping possession and wanted to be involved in everything. Le Saux was also excellent considering his long layoff. There was a moment in the second half when he'd been involved in an attack that broke down, resulting in Arsenal gaining possession. The Arsenal counter was lightning fast, but Le Saux accelerated effortlessly, sprinting forty yards to overhaul the striker he was marking. It was great to see the pace was still there.

The game surged on, with both sides almost scoring several times, until the deadlock was broken by some comical defending by Arsenal. Two defenders, one of whom was definitely Silvinho, collided with each other while trying to get to the same ball, giving Jimmy H the chance he needed to race past Keown and viciously strike the ball low past the despairing Seaman into the right corner of the net. The crowd went bananas, and I found myself hugging my mate Nobby's head, causing him great discomfort and loss of sensation, but he took it well, after he had regained consciousness, that is. A cracking goal, typical of Hasselbaink. He'd been up to all sorts, losing his marker and laying off balls to Poyet and others, and looked well worth the insane transfer fee.

The frenetic pace of the game inevitably tailed off a little just before half time, so I judged it a good moment to go and get the bovrils before the rush. I didn't reckon with the bloke at the end of our row, though, who had thoughtfully left his briefcase between his feet as I struggled past. I tripped horribly and found myself flying through the air down the gangway. I remember the horrified gaze of several punters as I went, and I eventually landed on my back across an unfortunate bloke three rows down.

It was lucky for me, as I'd have been hurt if it hadn't been a soft landing, but I wan't out of the woods yet. The guy I landed on naturally thought he was being attacked, and raised his fist to thump me as I struggled to stand, while at the same time trying to placate him with "Sorry, mate, I tripped up.. I'm not pissed, honest !", etc. Every word seemed to make it worse, and people were killing themselves laughing, so I gathered around me what threads of dignity I could and legged it down into the stand, where I stood with my back pressed against the wall until the cold sweat abated. Such moments remind you horribly of your mortality, which is no bad thing.

The second half started much as had the first, with both sides probing. Arsenal went closest when Kanu whacked the ball against the frame of the goal, but that was later cancelled out by Jimmy H's superb bent shot from thirty yards that rattled Seaman's post. Chelsea struck next as Poyet beautifully chested the ball down into Franco Zola's path, providing him with an opportunity to drill the ball past Seaman into the left corner. Seaman may have got a hand to it, but I couldn't swear to it. Again the crowd erupted. It was mayhem. There's nothing like going two-nil up in a London derby, except of course going five-nil up against Man U...

Arse Wenger immediately gambled everything by putting on Bergkamp and Wiltord, providing Arsenal with four strikers AND Robert Pires. With fifteen minutes to go the pressure on Chelsea was massive, and all of us were keeping our fingers crossed that what happened last season wouldn't happen this time. Needless to say, Arsenal scored straight away, as Henry was put through for a simple tap past Cudicini. We groaned, but everyone immediately got behind the team, which was a welcome surprise. Arsenal kept up the pressure, and the inevitable equaliser came when the ball was half cleared as far as Silvinho, who struck the ball from at least twenty yards with the outside of his boot, through a crowd of players and into the net. It was unstoppable, and bent like a banana. The roar from the gooners was massive, and we groaned again in disbelief.

The game ended a few minutes later, after more scares. The relief that we hadn't lost was palpable, counterpointed by the disappointment that we'd let a two goal lead evaporate, but at least the game had been a pleasure to watch. It had the lot. Well done to ref Mike Riley, who allowed the game to flow while keeping the players aggression in check. Le Saux had caught Dixon quite badly in a fifty-fifty ball situation, but I don't think it was a deliberate foul, just hard play, and the ref appeared to agree. He could have sent Le Saux off, but chose only to book him, which was fair. Dixon made a meal of it, even getting himself carried off on a stretcher, but surprise surprise, he was back on after five minutes, running around like a greyhound.

Finally I have to admit a sneaking admiration for Wenger and Arsenal, who doggedly refused to accept defeat. Wenger was brave to play four strikers when other managers might have been too scared to let in more goals, which could easily have happened. Chelsea also played exceptionally well. There's not that much wrong that a few more games won't put right, contrary to what the popular press might think. Arsenal look like being very hard to beat this season, and will definitely be in there at number two when we lift the championship trophy at the end of the season..

What do YOU think ? Want to add your point of view ? Here's your chance to send me some feedback. NB: Opposing fans: abuse will be laughed at and then binned, so don't waste your time. Considered, intelligent argument, presented in the spirit of friendly rivalry guarantees a response.