I remember the first time I met Danny.
It was on the train back from Sunderland away. I don’t remember the year.
There were 3 of us on a table, another 2 in the seats behind. And then Danny just plonked down his plastic bag of beer on the table and took a seat.
He joined in straight away and from the outside you’d have thought he was part of our group.
At one point, one of my pals (let’s call him Simon) decided to start rapping – it wasn’t very good. Danny was sitting next to him and suddenly transformed into his hype man.
They made an odd couple. Certainly no Fresh Prince and Jazzy Jeff. There was zero timing and all Danny was actually doing was shouting “YEAH” at random points. But it was hilarious.
And this sums Danny up.
He could walk up to any of the different groups of fans that follow The Arsenal and instantly fit in.
One of the great things about doing aways is you see the same people over and over again. And Danny was one of those you would always see. Always recognise.
Everyone knew him. Everyone liked him.
I hated when Danny would see me at games.
He would shout “Keenos” at the top of his lungs across the concourse. He would never call me Dan.
I always try to distance myself at away games from my blogs. I don’t go round looking for attention, and feel uncomfortable when people tell me they ready my blogs or call me Keenos.
Danny didn’t care about this and would always just call me Keenos, and loud. There was no hiding from him.
Another memory is being in the White Swan on Highbury Corner.
He had bought one of those remote control key rings and had somehow managed to programme it to control the TVs in the pub.
Danny spent the entire evening changing the channel, stick Babestation on or turning the TVs off.
When you’re 10 pints in something like that becomes one of the funniest things in the world – we all remember the kid at school doing it!
One post game drink up we were showing Danny how to get bubbles back into your pint by taking another pint glass and tapping its bottom onto the rim of your drink.
Danny then proceeded to miss the rim of his glass and smash through the middle of his pint, shattering the glass and losing a whole pint in the process. Beer was everywhere. We were in hysterics again.
Whether it was the Bailey, Wig, George or Swan, you’d walk in and Danny would be there.
He had this infectious craziness. Always up to something. A bundle of energy.
In all the time I knew Danny, I rarely saw him actually watching a game. He always seemed to be down in the concourse. Beer in hand. He was the King of the Concourse.
Everyone will have their own story of time spent in Danny’s presence. He was just one of those sort of people. You saw him at every game home and away, no matter what time of day. He knew everyone. Everyone knew him.
He was a quality guy and will be missed by everyone that knew him.
Arsenal will be a quieter place without him.
RIP Danny Bailey