A Biography by @goonersgirl008
Ode to Freddie
When Gooners are asked who their favourite player of all-time is, you are sure to hear a lot of names, but for me, there is only one answer: Freddie Ljungberg.
From the first Arsenal match that I watched back in January 2004, I fell utterly and inextricably in love with the man in the 8 shirt. It wasn’t just that I found him to be stunningly handsome (though I did, and still do); it was the way he moved. It was the passion that oozed out of his every pore. You never questioned Freddie’s commitment to the club, or his desire to win.
The first thing I did after the first match I saw, was look him up. I needed to know as much as possible about my Swedish love god. I read his bio, studied his stats, drooled over his pics (I previously hadn’t realized it was him in those Calvin Klein ads), and looked up some of his highlights. I’ve never gotten over missing his red-haired Mohawk and his total destruction of Chelsea in the 2002 FA Cup Final.
A few weeks after seeing my first match, he got injured. I then proceeded to pout, but started developing an attachment to the rest of the team that would become known as The Invincibles. I loved Henry, Bergkamp, Vieira, and the rest of them, but nobody could take Freddie’s place in my heart. I was so happy to see him back weeks later.
In May 2006, I went on a study abroad seminar in London. I was there just in time for the Champion League Final against Barcelona. I’m still not ashamed to admit that I begged and pleaded with my professor to allow me to attend the parade if we won. Obviously, we know what the result was, and I ended up blackout drunk, utterly devastated, and then hungover and isolated the next day.
My obsessions with Arsenal and Freddie continued full force ahead through the next few seasons, despite his numerous injuries, and that frightening tattoo poisoning incident. He remained my divine favourite through it all, and I was absolutely distraught for the whole of 2007 with all the transfer rumours bandied about. He hung in through January, and I breathed a sigh of relief and assured myself that he would stay. I had made it through the selling of Vieira and Pires, and the retirement of Bergkamp with panic and sadness, but told myself that Henry and Freddie were going nowhere. Then Henry went to Barca and I was gutted. It still hadn’t occurred to me that MY Freddie would actually leave Arsenal, and then it happened.
When I was in London, I got my first 2 Arsenal shirts… Home (that gorgeous Highbury kit) and Away, and no one else could be on my shirt. Since he left, my shirts have been blank. I couldn’t pick another favourite for the seasons following. Though, admittedly, I did get the Henry kit from his loan return (Henry 12 in 2012, magic).
On Valentine’s Day 2007, I watched him score his last Arsenal goal against Blackburn in the FA Cup. That goal was so special to me, not just because it was his last (or his only goal in a long while), but because I saw the match from Sweden. I spent a semester in Sweden, and I could lie and say that the fact that it was his homeland had nothing to do with my choice in destinations. I wanted to learn about his culture and about where he came from. And I did. I picked up some Swedish and indulged in some quintessential Swedish things (meatballs, hockey, IKEA). I loved it there, and I owe him in part for inspiring me to go there.
When I found out about his transfer to West Ham (God, couldn’t he have gone abroad?), I had a meltdown. I really, truly did. I was at work, and I just burst into tears right there in front of people who could not fathom why I was so distressed. They didn’t get that my soulmates (my man and my club) had essentially torn me in half. This was the THE TEST, could I still love the Arsenal and could I still love Freddie despite him leaving? The answer was yes.
I won’t lie and say that I didn’t hate every second of seeing him in another shirt. I have barely been able to watch him play for the Sounders, Chicago Fire, Celtic or Shimizu as I cannot connect emotionally with them (it’s all Arsenal for me). But I have followed every move he’s made, and I’ve supported him ever since. For some time now, I’ve thought about his retirement on the horizon, but when the announcement actually came in August, it hit me hard.
I’ve known he wasn’t the player he was anymore, and hadn’t been for a long time, but what got me was his statement about losing the passion. That got to me, it made me really understand his decision and the time and the place. I fell in love with his passion and his fight, and I hate that it’s come so soon. He retired a bit earlier in age than some of his counterparts (TiTi and Henrik Larsson), but I don’t want him to play without passion (anymore than he did apprarently). I want to always look back at the Super Swede playing his heart out and ruling the wing, because that is my favourite player ever.
And I must say that I still love him, and that I still believe that he is Arsenal through and through!
From the first Arsenal match that I watched back in January 2004, I fell utterly and inextricably in love with the man in the 8 shirt. It wasn’t just that I found him to be stunningly handsome (though I did, and still do); it was the way he moved. It was the passion that oozed out of his every pore. You never questioned Freddie’s commitment to the club, or his desire to win.
The first thing I did after the first match I saw, was look him up. I needed to know as much as possible about my Swedish love god. I read his bio, studied his stats, drooled over his pics (I previously hadn’t realized it was him in those Calvin Klein ads), and looked up some of his highlights. I’ve never gotten over missing his red-haired Mohawk and his total destruction of Chelsea in the 2002 FA Cup Final.
A few weeks after seeing my first match, he got injured. I then proceeded to pout, but started developing an attachment to the rest of the team that would become known as The Invincibles. I loved Henry, Bergkamp, Vieira, and the rest of them, but nobody could take Freddie’s place in my heart. I was so happy to see him back weeks later.
In May 2006, I went on a study abroad seminar in London. I was there just in time for the Champion League Final against Barcelona. I’m still not ashamed to admit that I begged and pleaded with my professor to allow me to attend the parade if we won. Obviously, we know what the result was, and I ended up blackout drunk, utterly devastated, and then hungover and isolated the next day.
My obsessions with Arsenal and Freddie continued full force ahead through the next few seasons, despite his numerous injuries, and that frightening tattoo poisoning incident. He remained my divine favourite through it all, and I was absolutely distraught for the whole of 2007 with all the transfer rumours bandied about. He hung in through January, and I breathed a sigh of relief and assured myself that he would stay. I had made it through the selling of Vieira and Pires, and the retirement of Bergkamp with panic and sadness, but told myself that Henry and Freddie were going nowhere. Then Henry went to Barca and I was gutted. It still hadn’t occurred to me that MY Freddie would actually leave Arsenal, and then it happened.
When I was in London, I got my first 2 Arsenal shirts… Home (that gorgeous Highbury kit) and Away, and no one else could be on my shirt. Since he left, my shirts have been blank. I couldn’t pick another favourite for the seasons following. Though, admittedly, I did get the Henry kit from his loan return (Henry 12 in 2012, magic).
On Valentine’s Day 2007, I watched him score his last Arsenal goal against Blackburn in the FA Cup. That goal was so special to me, not just because it was his last (or his only goal in a long while), but because I saw the match from Sweden. I spent a semester in Sweden, and I could lie and say that the fact that it was his homeland had nothing to do with my choice in destinations. I wanted to learn about his culture and about where he came from. And I did. I picked up some Swedish and indulged in some quintessential Swedish things (meatballs, hockey, IKEA). I loved it there, and I owe him in part for inspiring me to go there.
When I found out about his transfer to West Ham (God, couldn’t he have gone abroad?), I had a meltdown. I really, truly did. I was at work, and I just burst into tears right there in front of people who could not fathom why I was so distressed. They didn’t get that my soulmates (my man and my club) had essentially torn me in half. This was the THE TEST, could I still love the Arsenal and could I still love Freddie despite him leaving? The answer was yes.
I won’t lie and say that I didn’t hate every second of seeing him in another shirt. I have barely been able to watch him play for the Sounders, Chicago Fire, Celtic or Shimizu as I cannot connect emotionally with them (it’s all Arsenal for me). But I have followed every move he’s made, and I’ve supported him ever since. For some time now, I’ve thought about his retirement on the horizon, but when the announcement actually came in August, it hit me hard.
I’ve known he wasn’t the player he was anymore, and hadn’t been for a long time, but what got me was his statement about losing the passion. That got to me, it made me really understand his decision and the time and the place. I fell in love with his passion and his fight, and I hate that it’s come so soon. He retired a bit earlier in age than some of his counterparts (TiTi and Henrik Larsson), but I don’t want him to play without passion (anymore than he did apprarently). I want to always look back at the Super Swede playing his heart out and ruling the wing, because that is my favourite player ever.
And I must say that I still love him, and that I still believe that he is Arsenal through and through!
