It’s the easiest thing in the world to write nice things about people when they’ve gone; to say what a great person they were, when everyone knows they could be an awkward sod or mean spirited. That’s absolutely not the case with David Arnold. A more likeable, more generous soul, it’s hard to imagine.
David and Barbara have done so much for the club it’s almost mundane to attempt to list it all. From running the bar for sparsely attended under-18s games in the middle of January, to putting up players in their own home (often, quietly, rent-free), to David chairing the Supporters Club for many years, the couple have contributed more than dozens of other volunteers put together.
They love the club so much that it was the Rook Inn they chose as the venue for the wake when their son Joe tragically died a few years ago, and to celebrate their own golden wedding anniversary. They say a football club is a family, and it’s hard to think of a couple that has embodied that more than David and Barbara.
David was relentlessly encouraging, always pushing for ways to support the club. If a team was on the cusp of a promotion or a trophy, he would be gently nudging the Supporters Club to add some wedge to the kitty. On numerous occasions he made personal donations, without seeking thanks or public acknowledgement.
David also helped raise a considerable sum of money while running the Supporters Club. Contributions of tens of thousands of pounds flowed through every season, although it was sometimes a mystery how the Supporters Club managed to raise so much when David was behind the bar. A fiver proffered to pay for a pint of Harvey’s would be politely waved away. “You do enough for the club,” he would tell countless volunteers. He was probably covering the bar bills himself.
David wasn’t only at the heart of the club, but of the community. He wrote a long-standing local history column for the Sussex Express until just before his passing. He organised historical re-enactments, one infamously taking part on The Dripping Pan one weekend just before a women’s game. Volunteers had to comb the pitch, removing flints and other debris just prior to kick-off. David was, as ever, humbly apologetic and appreciative of the help.
But if there’s one thing that everyone who knew David will miss about him, it’s that big smile greeting you across the bar. David was one of those people who just seemed to relish life, to love being around other people without ever seeking attention. He was loved unconditionally by everyone at the club; you only need witness the people literally queuing up to greet him when he made one of his recent appearances at The Dripping Pan to know this is a man who’s going to be desperately missed.