You never forget your first Champions League game: the evening kick-off, the lights, the anthem. Mine was at Highbury in 2005, watching Arsenal run out 3-0 winners against Sparta Praha. Ten-year-old me was wrapped in the new Arsenal scarf that my dad had bought for me before the game. Today it hangs on my bedroom door, a reminder of Robin van Persie’s brace and the nonchalance of Thierry Henry’s strike from outside the box that night. Leaving the stadium, I held my red-and-white scarf high above my head as chants of, “Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal!” echoed around the narrow streets of north London.
The passion for European football is intertwined with the presence of football scarves. Many great teams have walked out at Anfield and wilted at the sight and sound of the Liverpool faithful on the Kop holding their red scarves aloft, belting out You’ll Never Walk Alone into the night sky. The same goes for Borussia Dortmund’s Yellow Wall, allied to the visual spectacle created by a sea of black-and-yellow scarves being whirled about by 24,000 die-hards.
In the days before commercial shirt sales, scarves were the original consumable club merchandise. Even today it is a key item in supporters’ wardrobes. Over the years clubs have tapped into this sentiment by asking new signings and managers to strike the classic pose, holding a scarf aloft for the cameras, in a nod to the team's cultural heritage.
In a time when so much in football is in flux, one thing has remained constant: the simple yet storied scarf.
You never forget your first Champions League game: the evening kick-off, the lights, the anthem. Mine was at Highbury in 2005, watching Arsenal run out 3-0 winners against Sparta Praha. Ten-year-old me was wrapped in the new Arsenal scarf that my dad had bought for me before the game. Today it hangs on my bedroom door, a reminder of Robin van Persie’s brace and the nonchalance of Thierry Henry’s strike from outside the box that night. Leaving the stadium, I held my red-and-white scarf high above my head as chants of, “Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal!” echoed around the narrow streets of north London.
The passion for European football is intertwined with the presence of football scarves. Many great teams have walked out at Anfield and wilted at the sight and sound of the Liverpool faithful on the Kop holding their red scarves aloft, belting out You’ll Never Walk Alone into the night sky. The same goes for Borussia Dortmund’s Yellow Wall, allied to the visual spectacle created by a sea of black-and-yellow scarves being whirled about by 24,000 die-hards.
In the days before commercial shirt sales, scarves were the original consumable club merchandise. Even today it is a key item in supporters’ wardrobes. Over the years clubs have tapped into this sentiment by asking new signings and managers to strike the classic pose, holding a scarf aloft for the cameras, in a nod to the team's cultural heritage.
In a time when so much in football is in flux, one thing has remained constant: the simple yet storied scarf.
You never forget your first Champions League game: the evening kick-off, the lights, the anthem. Mine was at Highbury in 2005, watching Arsenal run out 3-0 winners against Sparta Praha. Ten-year-old me was wrapped in the new Arsenal scarf that my dad had bought for me before the game. Today it hangs on my bedroom door, a reminder of Robin van Persie’s brace and the nonchalance of Thierry Henry’s strike from outside the box that night. Leaving the stadium, I held my red-and-white scarf high above my head as chants of, “Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal!” echoed around the narrow streets of north London.
The passion for European football is intertwined with the presence of football scarves. Many great teams have walked out at Anfield and wilted at the sight and sound of the Liverpool faithful on the Kop holding their red scarves aloft, belting out You’ll Never Walk Alone into the night sky. The same goes for Borussia Dortmund’s Yellow Wall, allied to the visual spectacle created by a sea of black-and-yellow scarves being whirled about by 24,000 die-hards.
In the days before commercial shirt sales, scarves were the original consumable club merchandise. Even today it is a key item in supporters’ wardrobes. Over the years clubs have tapped into this sentiment by asking new signings and managers to strike the classic pose, holding a scarf aloft for the cameras, in a nod to the team's cultural heritage.
In a time when so much in football is in flux, one thing has remained constant: the simple yet storied scarf.
You never forget your first Champions League game: the evening kick-off, the lights, the anthem. Mine was at Highbury in 2005, watching Arsenal run out 3-0 winners against Sparta Praha. Ten-year-old me was wrapped in the new Arsenal scarf that my dad had bought for me before the game. Today it hangs on my bedroom door, a reminder of Robin van Persie’s brace and the nonchalance of Thierry Henry’s strike from outside the box that night. Leaving the stadium, I held my red-and-white scarf high above my head as chants of, “Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal!” echoed around the narrow streets of north London.
The passion for European football is intertwined with the presence of football scarves. Many great teams have walked out at Anfield and wilted at the sight and sound of the Liverpool faithful on the Kop holding their red scarves aloft, belting out You’ll Never Walk Alone into the night sky. The same goes for Borussia Dortmund’s Yellow Wall, allied to the visual spectacle created by a sea of black-and-yellow scarves being whirled about by 24,000 die-hards.
In the days before commercial shirt sales, scarves were the original consumable club merchandise. Even today it is a key item in supporters’ wardrobes. Over the years clubs have tapped into this sentiment by asking new signings and managers to strike the classic pose, holding a scarf aloft for the cameras, in a nod to the team's cultural heritage.
In a time when so much in football is in flux, one thing has remained constant: the simple yet storied scarf.
You never forget your first Champions League game: the evening kick-off, the lights, the anthem. Mine was at Highbury in 2005, watching Arsenal run out 3-0 winners against Sparta Praha. Ten-year-old me was wrapped in the new Arsenal scarf that my dad had bought for me before the game. Today it hangs on my bedroom door, a reminder of Robin van Persie’s brace and the nonchalance of Thierry Henry’s strike from outside the box that night. Leaving the stadium, I held my red-and-white scarf high above my head as chants of, “Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal!” echoed around the narrow streets of north London.
The passion for European football is intertwined with the presence of football scarves. Many great teams have walked out at Anfield and wilted at the sight and sound of the Liverpool faithful on the Kop holding their red scarves aloft, belting out You’ll Never Walk Alone into the night sky. The same goes for Borussia Dortmund’s Yellow Wall, allied to the visual spectacle created by a sea of black-and-yellow scarves being whirled about by 24,000 die-hards.
In the days before commercial shirt sales, scarves were the original consumable club merchandise. Even today it is a key item in supporters’ wardrobes. Over the years clubs have tapped into this sentiment by asking new signings and managers to strike the classic pose, holding a scarf aloft for the cameras, in a nod to the team's cultural heritage.
In a time when so much in football is in flux, one thing has remained constant: the simple yet storied scarf.
You never forget your first Champions League game: the evening kick-off, the lights, the anthem. Mine was at Highbury in 2005, watching Arsenal run out 3-0 winners against Sparta Praha. Ten-year-old me was wrapped in the new Arsenal scarf that my dad had bought for me before the game. Today it hangs on my bedroom door, a reminder of Robin van Persie’s brace and the nonchalance of Thierry Henry’s strike from outside the box that night. Leaving the stadium, I held my red-and-white scarf high above my head as chants of, “Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal!” echoed around the narrow streets of north London.
The passion for European football is intertwined with the presence of football scarves. Many great teams have walked out at Anfield and wilted at the sight and sound of the Liverpool faithful on the Kop holding their red scarves aloft, belting out You’ll Never Walk Alone into the night sky. The same goes for Borussia Dortmund’s Yellow Wall, allied to the visual spectacle created by a sea of black-and-yellow scarves being whirled about by 24,000 die-hards.
In the days before commercial shirt sales, scarves were the original consumable club merchandise. Even today it is a key item in supporters’ wardrobes. Over the years clubs have tapped into this sentiment by asking new signings and managers to strike the classic pose, holding a scarf aloft for the cameras, in a nod to the team's cultural heritage.
In a time when so much in football is in flux, one thing has remained constant: the simple yet storied scarf.
