Eventually, the arguments got so bad that Dad had to leave. The family home had become like a warzone. We shed a tear as we waved him goodbye and then, before we knew it, a new, younger man had taken his place. In came the stepfather.

Apparently they met during a holiday in Spain. Seeing him with his feet under the table was really strange. Who was he to just stroll in with his slicked back hair – like he could ever take Dad’s place! Did anyone ask us if we wanted him? It’s been a weird year to be an Arsenal fan.

There is definitely a paternal dimension to the football manager. The football club is a family and what better candidate for the fatherhood symbol than the senior man on the touchline in his long coat?

As an Arsenal fan, my first football father was George Graham. I saw him as a stern dad. He’d take you on cheap, rainy holidays because you’d be pleased for them in the long run. On your fifth birthday when you wanted a bike, he’d buy you a blazer. You’d always feel he was one step away from putting you over his knee.

But Arsene Wenger? He was a different sort of dad – all cultured, twinkly-eyed and indulgent. And because he led us to so much glory and stayed so long and was do damned wise, his parental status began to feel more than metaphorical.

He played the fatherhood role well. Sometimes I felt so grateful to him that I could burst, other times I wondered what the hell he was playing at. He could make me laugh and he could make me cry. When he got in rows and scraps with other fathers – Chelsea’s Mourinho and Ferguson of Manchester – I loved it. Hit him, Dad!

He was always there, in the dugout or patrolling the touchline – and I loved every moment of his reign. Even when he screwed up, I didn’t join in as my brothers and sisters slagged him off. I was the loyal son of the family.

Ironically, those Gunners fans who criticised Wenger the loudest are now Unai Emery’s biggest supporters. They spent so long insisting we’d be better off with a new boss – any new boss! – that they back him to the hilt. Like children desperate to get in with a new head of the household, they can’t speak highly enough of him. Look, they rave, he makes substitutions in the 50th minute!

Then there are those who are a bit more wary. They need the new boss to do things to win them over. So provided he spends big in the transfer market and strings some wins together, they’ll accept him into the family and forget about Dad. Like the children who need the new stepfather to buy them expensive treats and take them to Disneyland.

But for those who remained committed to Wenger until the bitter end, learning to accept the new Arsenal stepfather has been a challenge. We know it’s not the Spaniard’s fault it didn’t work out in the end with Dad but part of us can’t help resenting him for replacing Wenger.

When fans chanted “we’ve got our Arsenal back” as Emery’s team beat Fulham, the new boss’s ninth successive win, it felt disrespectful. Not to mention premature: as we loyalists couldn’t help but remind people, Wenger once won 14 games in a row. So there!

As fans rave about how well Emery is doing, I find myself mentioning that his winning run came against the likes of Cardiff, FC Vorslka and Brentford, and that the only two strong teams we’ve faced under him both beat us. I’ve never felt so unwilling to credit an Arsenal manager for their success.

In time, the new man’s presence will begin to feel more familiar, and if the knockout specialist puts a cup in the trophy cabinet, that wouldn’t hurt the acceptance process for me. We all have our price.

Looking further ahead, as football’s penchant for young managers grows, Emery might be the last Gunners boss who is older than me. On match-day, I usually still feel like the kid who jumped up and down as he watched his first Arsenal game back in 1979. I wonder whether everything will change once managers are younger than me, or whether we always remain children when we go to watch football. Perhaps that’s the beauty of it?

Chas Newkey-Burden