One life, one game, one team, one invincibles

One life, one game, one team, one Invincibles (So far)

Monday, 13 May 2013

Cybury Gooners

At the zenith of the last Millennium, scrolls were found that told the tale of a brave band of men, men who fought to preserve the honour of The Arsenal. In the year of our Lord 1995, from the humble beginnings of the Arsenal e-mail list, sprung a brave group of men who wanted to battle the hordes from other tribes; tribes whose inhabitants were still struggling with fire and wheels!

In November of 95, a battle was agreed between the tribe of Arsenal and the local neanderthals of Middlesex hotscum, and neutral ground was set as the arena. On that sunny day, superior tactics and calibre of soldier triumphed and the hordes from Middlesex were repelled, scurrying over the hills in retreat to their hovels to find some bins to dip.
From this first triumph, there came many more challenges, especially from the frozen wastelands of the North, as word spread of a tribe from Londinium, who were renowned for their skills in haute couture, wit and rapscallion cocksmanship. Pathfinders were sent forth, to evaluate enemy weaknesses and tactical acumen, before the invasion was launched.
Several attacks were repelled by the Northern hordes who held advantage of the terrain and knowledge of its secrets, but these were temporary victories, a mere flicker of light in the darkness. In 1999, The Arsenal launched a full on attack, assembling its finest collection of warriors, all skilled in the areas of combat required to defeat any enemy it came across.
At the end of 2 days of fighting, they stood alone on the plains of Leicestershire, unvanquished, victorious, as one!

The scrolls read of heroes called Melis and Richmond, Cohen and Lowry, names that even now the children of The Arsenal tribe are told of at night before they sleep, tales of bravery and comradeship!

They fought on, winning battles throughout the land, for several years, until at last they found that other tribes learnt from their skills and expertise and took advantage of their lack of refuelling points, until they were forced back.
They all returned to their families, tired and scarred, assuming false identities in order to protect those they loved. Taking up new professions as Blacksmiths or farmers, trying to forget their violent pasts, pretending the rage had died inside.
But there lingered a spark.

A tiny ember.

In each one of them.

Until the years had passed and each had forgotten past lives and glories. Or so they thought.

Then one day, a message came to them. Delivered by various means. From where it came, they were not sure, but the sender knew each and every one of them, knew what would add fuel to the fire, what would turn a spark into a flame, a flame in to a fire and a fire to an inferno!

So they trained, each of them in isolation, remembering past lives, skills thought long forgotten, feelings thought buried for eternity. How soon they remembered the old ways, the ease with which an opponent could be beaten, the pride taken at wielding their weapon of choice, besting any man sent to test their mettle.

They gathered. It was time they were told. Time to remind the world of their glory. Their time.

A few weeks from now, on a ragged patch of earth called Leeds, the Northern hordes will face obliteration!

Just there the barbarians will huddle, sheer terror gripping tight their hearts with icy fingers... knowing full well what merciless horrors they suffered at the swords and spears of 11 men. Yet they will now stare across the pitch at twenty Gooners, commanding two gazillion social media Arsenal fans!

The enemy may outnumber us a paltry two to one, good odds for any Gooner. But on that day we rescue a world from Fergusonism and tyranny and usher in a future brighter than anything we can imagine.

Give thanks men, to the legend of Cybury and the brave 11! TO VICTORY!

If you have been raised to fight for the cause of The Arsenal and possess the required battle skills and can march to the wastelands of Leeds for Sat and Sun 15th/16th June and have reached your 35th birthday without losing any important limbs, then join our band of brothers in a quest for glory.

If you are yet to reach 35 years, then we are assembling an army of younger warriors to train for an assault in 2014 on a secondary but larger target and will receive any interested applicants now, for advance planning based on this year's reconnaissance of the enemy and their younger armies!

For further tales from the Bard of Cybury or just to seek enlightenment on how to fight for The Arsenal, send your missive to

Join us and taste the glory of victory and wine drunk in remembrance of friends and team mates once more!

Keepers of the faith, never forget. We are The Arsenal.

Mark King


  1. oh! How I miss those days gone!!.... but I know even more glory awaits!.....I salute! my band of brothers!!!

  2. Hit them hard, hit them fast, hit them low. And when they get up hit them again. Gooooooooooooonaah!