Arsenal’s response to this dying fan was just astonishingly crass

Alys Courtney has recently been told she has less than a year to live. Her son Teddy, nicknamed Super Ted, was six months old when she discovered a lump in her right breast, last year.

She has a history of breast cysts in the family and was breast-feeding at the time, so initially she didn’t freak out.

First she saw a doctor, and was fobbed off.

But she made a fuss and was referred to a consultant, then hurried to an ultrasound scan, remaining optimistic that this was merely a scare. A week later, she sat in a surgeon’s office and was told she had a huge tumour, that she needed urgent chemotherapy, a mastectomy and radiotherapy. It was the beginning of the end of her life.

Heart-wrenching

She has documented the past nine months in a mostly heart-wrenching but often hilarious blog, “New mum, mad family, annoying labradoodle and a bit of cancer.”

Teddy learning to crawl and first saying “mummy”. Undergoing chemotherapy. Her hair shedding fast. The “Welcome Alys” sandwich board outside the wig specialist shop. Losing her breast. Her mum’s birthday. Teddy’s first birthday. A mammoth family Christmas. The anxiety. The fear. The tumours shrinking, but not going away. Teddy reaching out his hand in the night to hold hers. Really wanting to be around for more. The bottle of Prosecco she was planning to drink on 15 March to celebrate the end of active treatment.

And then the most recent post, the end-of-treatment party cancelled, starts with an analogy about Arsenal – her lifelong club – playing in the 2006 Champions League final. How she knew, deep down, they would not beat Barcelona, even before goalkeeper Jens Lehmann was sent off in the 18th minute, even after Sol Campbell put them in front. In the same way she knew, all along, she would not beat cancer.

‘It was always Barcelona’

Watching football has been a major part of her family life and for the match they crammed into the tiny living room of her parents’ old house. After the final whistle, the Courtneys were angry and upset, except Alys, she writes, “who had known all along there had never been any hope to begin with”.

Learning that her cancer had spread to her liver this year and is now incurable was not such a shock, because she had always felt it inside. “This cancer was always one step ahead, it was always Barcelona,” she writes.

“Last night I dreamt my hair looked normal, my scars had faded and I was in recovery. In these particularly dark recent days sleep is the only respite from the overwhelming sadness and sheer relentless, exhausting terror that every day brings.”

She shares the account of Teddy being desperate to walk and wanting to explore everywhere, of him making funny hand gestures begging to be picked up, which she hates ignoring. “I cannot connect with him,” she adds, “what’s the point? I don’t want him to miss me when I’m gone so it’s best to step back, yet agonising watching other people form closer bonds with my child than mine. I have functioned for years with anxiety and depression but now I am truly broken. I am useless.”

Staggering response

Alys has been an Arsenal Red Member for more than a decade. For £29 or £36 per year, Red Members have access to buy tickets to every league home match around a month in advance, plus other benefits. Anyone can sign up.

It takes on average 10 years to earn an upgrade to become a Silver Member, giving access to tickets a month before Red Members. It is a badge of honour, for Arsenal fans. Alys is not quite there yet.

So she emailed Arsenal to explain she had terminal cancer and less than 12 months to live, and asked if she could transfer her membership to a family member, so they could benefit after she dies and they could one day, perhaps in the next few years, sign in to their account and discover they had made it to Silver. The club’s response was staggering.

Astonishingly crass

“We are very sorry to hear that you have been diagnosed with breast cancer, we wish you the best with your treatment and recovery process,” they wrote. “Unfortunately memberships are non-transferable therefore it won’t be possible for you to transfer the membership to a family member.”

Even setting aside the callousness of refusing to break a policy – a few words written down on a computer, a few lawless rules – for a dying woman, the corporate-speak response to someone emailing that they are about to die is astonishingly crass. Wishing someone the best for their recovery process when they have told you they are soon to die is only demonstrating the email has not even been read properly.

When I reached out to Alys to speak to her about it on Monday, she was too ill from her latest round of chemo to talk on the phone, but kindly responded via email.

‘Not what I expect from the club I love’

“I was more upset with the blasé response wishing me a speedy recovery – I’m not going to recover,” she wrote. “I’ve religiously paid my thirty-odd quid a year in the hope of getting closer to the Holy Grail of Silver Membership but it looks like a bit of a scam, which isn’t what I’d expect from the football club I love.”

Alys has even offered to prove her diagnosis. The club only need read her blog to understand quite what she’s been through. When I contacted Arsenal, a spokesperson said: “This is a sad situation. We will speak to Alys and make sure we resolve this as quickly as possible.”

In one post, Alys discusses how cancer shines a spotlight on friendships. Some which had almost disappeared were reignited. New friends offered support beyond her expectations. “Other friendships haven’t lived up to the scrutiny – some people quite literally have better things to do,” she writes.

The very least her beloved club could have done was read her email properly. She deserves much more.