FRIDAY 16th SEMPTEMBER 7am-8PM

And so they came.

It was relentless. I didn't mind. Hour after hour. I told them to lay their flowers in Green Park. Shuffle past Buckingham Palace as fast as you can, we needed to keep everyone moving. The happy and the solemn, plenty of tourists wanting to take their selfies. I helped everyone. 

I took so many photos of people and family groups. So many people form all over the world coming to pay their respects. I've always been glad of The Queen and her family. It's a difficult job I reckon. My Mum and Dad had a difficult job, putting up with four of us. They never complained either.

My Mum and Dad always wanted four children too. I'm the youngest. 

I realised after seeing the queue file past Buckingham Palace to lay their flowers what a hassle it would be to have children and what a waste of time it would be to have them standing in a queue. How cruel I thought. They could be in London and hanging out in Hamelys. Anyway, I kept saying to the family groups that I'm not the best photographer in the world. 

I went for a cigarette on my toilet break. I got twenty minutes again but I'd learnt not to drink my flask of coffee too soon. My thirteen hour shift the previous day had taught me that. I kept looking over to the media tents enviously. I saw they had toilets but my portaloos were still a 10 minute walk and a 10 minute walk back. Cigarette or sandwich? I never do both. 

My back hurt. The police were nice. They said their back's hurt too and we all had a laugh about it. They were okay though. They complained about only having an hour break. I decided to not  mention my twenty minute break as I knew they were protecting me.

THE QUEEN'S FUNERAL AND HANGING ABOUT BUCKINGHAM PALACE

 8TH SEPTEMBER THE QUEEN'S DEATH

I was sitting in Wetherspoons in Leytonstone when The Queen died. I was probably on the train from Manchester when she passed. As soon as Huw Edwards was wearing his black suit I knew. I've got some work to do and thank God it's not football. 

SATURDAY 10th SEPTEMBER 

I walked from Tottenham Court Road Tube Station to The Mall. My sign in was in some tents in Saint James's Park.There were lots of other stewards. Hundreds. I'd never seen so many. I felt safe. I felt nervous though as I didn't know where I would be placed. I had to give my passport to sign in. Other people had forgotten to bring their photo I.D. but the people signing them in didn't seem to mind. They were just after stewards.

I was assigned to The Queen Victoria Flower Gardens of Buckingham Palace. I stood there for 13 hours for 4 days. I was paid £10 an hour. I was allowed two 20 minutes breaks in this time. It took me ten minutes to walk up to the portaloos and walk back again. I was so hungry but I had no time to eat my sandwich. My boyfriend had made me a sandwich and he is no Royalist. However... I am. 

I loved The Queen and I'll never forget the letters she sent back to me when I wrote to her. Standing there and staring at her empty balcony... Well I felt great. These were my special thirteen hours, from sunrise until after sunset. 

I thought about The Queen and how she stood on her feet for many hours and how she never complained about her predicament. I'll complain now but not to The Palace. Rather to my my agency A.P.S. Someone asked me what that stood for and even though I was wearing my Hi-Vis with it on the back, I hadn't a clue. I asked. It stands for All Purpose Security.

WEST HAM v LEICESTER

 Monday 23rd August

8pm kick off

London Stadium

West Ham 4 Leicester 1

I'd never been to The Olympic Stadium before and I still insist in calling it that. It's now called The London Stadium. Sign in was at 3pm and I was to go to bridge 2 and then go down a ramp that would lead me into the sign in area.

Upon arrival on the way from Westfield Shopping Centre I caught the eye of another chap dressed as a penguin. His name was Lennox and I explained that I'd never been to The London Stadium before. Lennox was a chatty chap and proceeded to give everyone directions upon our long walk. I felt like I was in safe hands upon meeting this Lennox chap. He told me how he was a supervisor and that he was used to this stadium. Lennox and me were only wearing our ties, white shirts, black trousers and black jackets yet still people kept coming up to us both asking for directions. Stratford baffles me so it was a good job Lennox was able to tell them. 

On Bridge 2 the sign in area. I had to find my name card. It was quite easy as everything is in first names. I found mine easily after realising this but it did still take me a couple of minutes to work it out.

I took my little credit card sized name card and off I went to the next queue. They scanned my card and proceeded to give me a slip of paper with the many photocopied "Spare" on it. It bought back memories that did. The Wembley wind tunnel when I had to wait in the pouring rain and I was freezing cold because the previous day was a heatwave. Well, on this day it was okay and I didn't mind being a spare and just hanging about because hanging about is why I got into stewarding after all.  

I was sent to the wall. It reminded me of being at school. All the spares lent against the wall and we all started to have a chat, "Are you a spare too?" That was the sentence of whoever came to the lonely wall. Soon the wall wasn't lonely. I was the first "Spare" but we could have formed a Gospel Choir within about fifteen minutes of my arrival. We didn't though. We talked amongst ourselves about Wembley and how shit it was that they were sentencing stewards to two years in prison for selling the Hi-Vis and lanyards. We talked about bloodyhell, haven't people got anything better to do than blame us stewards about everything?

I had a heart to heart with Shazia next to me on the wall of spares. We got talking. When you're in the spares it takes forever. A bit like being an old cat or an old dog that's about to be put down unless someone adopts it. There's nothing wrong with us though, they just randomly select some spares. Some SIA's get upset about it. I'm never bothered though. I just think it makes the job all the more exciting.

I started to talk to Shazia. She told me she had 3 young children and that she worked all day as security in a Liverpool Street office block. She told me that her husband had abused her for ten years and he would beat her and the children up and that she was made to never leave the house. Thankfully she remarried and she said her new husband is perfect and that he looks after the children now. I didn't know what to say to the first bit of me and Shazia's conversation. I do believe that she understood my caring nature as she needed water and there was no water and she needed the toilet and there was no toilet but I took it upon myself to find Shazia both. Well, I thought I might as well as we could be standing around for 3 hours as spares.

Shazia was the first to leave the wall as she was SIA. I was second. I was given my hi-vis and sent to one of the stands.  I sat there and soon my friend from Wembley turned up, it was no other than my great friend Stella! We had such a top time at Wembley. It's really nice when you meet a fellow steward that you can have a chat to through the boring times and then laugh through the miserable times. It's like being in the army this steward malarking I reckon sometimes.

We sat in the stadium for a bit. An hour or so.  Just having brief chats with the rest of our crew. We watched fire flames pipe up at random moments and a weird re-mix of "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles." kept playing.

ENGLAND v ITALY (THE FINAL)

 Sunday 11th July 2021

8pm kick off

Wembley Stadium

Italy 1 (3) England 1 (2)

I had to sign in at 1pm for this game as it was the final. I was glad it would all soon be over and I wouldn't have to go back to that bloody stadium again. It hasn't all been bad as I've said many of times on here. I was just ready for it all to be over.

As I got out of the tube station and saw the thousands of people and the red smoke everywhere I knew it would be a more difficult day than usual. They were all already drunk and throwing lager and cans around. The chants were more deafening than usual. It was a bit of a struggle to manoeuvre my way through the paralytic fans to get to the stadium but I eventually managed it and I was glad to arrive in the relative peace of the signing in wind tunnel. 

I chose a chicken mayonnaise sandwich again and in I went with my little brown paper bag up the big steps to the top. I saw I'd been put on level 5 again. I didn't mind. I'd got used to level 5 by now and it felt like my area as I'd got to know where everything was. 

Us stewards queued up for about two hours before we got in the stadium. I think all of the stewards knew it was a bigger deal than usual but no one seemed that nervous. I wasn't nervous. I let it all flow over me. I become very detached about it all. I didn't listen to the radio whilst I was getting ready that morning as I thought it best not to. 

I was the first in the queue such is my enthusiasm and so the first of my group of level 5 stewards to make my way into the empty bowl. Well empty apart from the other level stewards, cleaners and technicians etc. I started on my chicken sandwich. I knew I wouldn't get a break to eat it today. It tasted as if it was on the turn but I ate it anyway. 

Another steward who really annoys me sat next to me. You can't choose who you sit next to so it wasn't his fault. He's annoyed me throughout all these games. He's about 28 and doesn't stop talking. He thinks he's so bloody funny. I think he's from South Africa. Oh he does my head in. I can't even be bothered to explain why. He started playing shit tinny music on his phone as if his voice wasn't annoying me enough. 

The usual wanker of a DJ was down below practising playing "Three Lions" to the empty bowl. He kept pretending there were people in the seats and waving his arms about like shit DJ's do. I think he fucked up "Sweet Caroline" at one point as it stopped. The stewards on level 1 started to boo. I was hoping he'd fuck up the DJing at the end if England won. That'd be funny I thought.

My supervisor today was a softly spoken Irish man in his 60's called Martin. I'd met him before during other games and he'd always been pleasant. I could tell he was probably hard as nails. Probably ex military I reckoned. That's why he was softly spoken and calm. I was happy as I was assigned to the lift again where I had been before but Martin said I was to swap with the other two stewards and go into the bay every twenty minutes so we could all watch the game. That suited me fine. What a reasonable chap this Martin was I thought. Well, he did actually mean check tickets and watch the fans like. 

I was put on my lift first. I'd been on this particular lift twice before so it felt like my lift once again. I don't like checking tickets or sending people the wrong way to their seats or arguing with them about the no alcohol in the bowl rule so I thought I'd stay at my lift post until kick off and once everyone was settled in I'd pop in the bowl and have a look at what was going on. I knew the other two stewards were probably into football and happy enough in there. One of my co-stewards seemed to read my mind and told me he'd swap with me at eight. He was a nice young man. Very relaxed and friendly. 

The fans began to arrive at five. They seemed alright and the usual bunch really. Not like the fans I encountered on Wembley Way earlier. After half an hour a fan came up to me and said his friend was trying to get in but the stadium was in lockdown. I had noticed that the fans had stopped arriving up the escalators next door to the lift. The cool black steward on the escalators always high fives them or gives them a fist punch. I like watching that. He'll sometimes have some banter and a laugh about the score. It's a really nice atmosphere up by my lift. I asked a supervisor what was happening and they told me there were people without tickets trying to get in and it was a bit chaotic down there. I didn't think much of it. After half an hour the fans started arriving again with their chants. 

I got the usual lot of fans asking if they could use the lift as they were supposed to be on level 2. It's always a load of bollocks and there's no backing down from me. Remember the coked up man offered me £300 in cash to use the lift at the England v Germany game? I never back down when it comes to using my lift. The medication excuse seemed to be a popular reason to get to level 2 during this game. "My brother's on level 2 and I have to give him his medication." I kept telling those kind of people to see a supervisor as they need to be escorted by a supervisor and taken back up. They give up then. 

8pm was soon upon Wembley and the nice friendly steward came and swapped position. My  position was in the disabled bay. It had a great view of the pitch as disabled bays always do. There are disabled bays all around the bowl and this one was just behind England's goal. 

One minute and 57 seconds later I was looking down at the pitch and saw the goal. I made the right decision to swap at kick off but felt sorry for the nice steward missing the goal. I reckoned he would have appreciated it more than me. I've no interest in football as we all know. I got a bit bored of watching the game after five minutes so I went back to my lift post and told him I might swap again a bit later. It's nice doing the lift when the game is on as it's peaceful. It was a bit loud for me in the bowl. 

Half time came and people were soon back asking me for my lift. I knew that would happen even more during half time and was going to get the nice steward to swap with me but  I soon realised that if I went to the bay I was going to have to check people weren't taking alcohol into the upper bays. I thought the lift was probably the easier job knowing those England fans in the upper bays were all pissed. 

It's always nice that when I'm doing the lift or bar I've only got to put up with the fans for fifteen minutes. They were all soon back in the bowl and yet again the shouting and chanting of the fans became a murmur. Awful chart music is played in the corridors. I prefer the chanting of "Harry Maguire, he drinks the vodka, he drinks the Jager, his heads fucking massive!" I dread to think what chant those fans would think up about my drinking life.

I heard the Italy goal whilst I was attempting to finish off my on the turn and by now stale chicken mayonnaise sandwich. All the stewards said they would go into extra time and penalties for this game. They were hopeful that England would win. I hoped they would too as I didn't want those dodgy England fans smashing the stadium up on their way out. 

I thought I'd pop into the bowl again after the not so shock of the equaliser to have a look at everything. The other steward swapped and I stood by a young girl in a wheelchair. She must have been about 21. She looked like Sarah from Labyrinth. It is a bit like the film Labyrinth in that stadium with all the steps. I got the feeling that she was reassured by my presence next to her as she smiled and she could tell I was smiling too beneath my medical grade facemask. She was the calm in the eye of Wembley Stadium at this final. She didn't speak or chant and just sat quietly watching. I don't say anything to the fans whilst I'm in the bowl and the match is on. They don't want to spend that much on a ticket and then hear me going on about something or other. I did give her another smile when the bare chested man invaded the pitch. I told her he could have at least taken his trousers off. I know it wasn't a funny thing to say and it was a bit rubbish but I thought I'd break the uneasy silence. I didn't want to start asking her why she was in a wheelchair. That would have been weird. 

I got bored of watching the match after a bit so went back to my lift. Soon it was extra time and then the penalties came. I wondered at what time I would get out of the stadium and all the other stewards were wondering the same. I had a brief look at the penalties but I couldn't really be bothered about it. I know I don't get a high or a low. I do feel a bit happy when England win as the team seem like nice chaps. 

Anyway, they lost and so that was that. The fans came out and instead of smashing up the stadium they just left gradually, all calm, subdued and sad looking. I felt a bit sorry for them but I was glad that Italy won. I then thought about the domestic violence rate in England going up and all the sad people across the country in their pubs and homes. All that disappointment. So sad. But then I thought about Italy and how happy they would all be. I thought about the nice Italy fans I'd met and those three gladiators that had been so happy and nice to me at the Italy v Spain match. I thought about how much I love Italian food and how as a Catholic it might bring Pope Francis some happiness after his operation. 

The stewards left the stadium at about midnight. I said goodbye to all the friendly stewards I'd met and they asked me if I'd be back at Wembley to do the rugby. I told them no. I think my Wembley days are done with now. I'm glad I saw it through. I didn't have much else to do anyway. 

ENGLAND v DENMARK

Wednesday 7th July 2021

8pm kick off

Wembley Stadium

England 2 Denmark 1

I wasn't much looking forward to stewarding this game. The England fans have been by far the worst fans during this tournament. I thought well, if I think about this as an adventure then this one could be quite fun. 

I was a bit sick of the anaemic sandwiches that Wembley give the stewards so I ate a big pizza at home so I'd be okay for the day. The sign in was 2pm and the England fans were already on Wembley Way doing their drunken chants. After signing in in the bleak wind tunnel I just took a packet of crisps. They always have cheap sandwiches but posh crisps. I took sweet chilli flavour. As I was trying to put my wrist bands on I could hear that the ranting lesbian was there. She's always shouting about how hard done by she is in some way or another. She's the kind of lesbian you'd meet in Holloway. She's only short so perhaps that's why she shouts so much. I quickly made my way up the many steps to the next sign in as I needed to get away from her voice.

The queue at the top to sign into the stadium was very long and not moving. Soon enough the ranting lesbian was only one person behind me. I don't hate her too much. She was saying how crap the sandwiches are and the shy Asian girl behind me suggested putting the crisps in the sandwiches to make them more interesting. The ranting lesbian didn't think much of that idea and soon turned the subject to how she could eat sweets because her girlfriend was away so she'd bought loads of sweets with her. I noticed the girl that I met on the first day of the tournament turn up. The one that seems to always be having a nervous breakdown over nothing. I think they employ her as some kind of equal opportunities thing. You can tell that she's very posh and very intelligent in perhaps a genius type way. I was trying to get some kind of background on her when she used my lift once but she just closed up and got in the lift. You can't ask her simple questions or talk to her. She just doesn't connect. She's on another team that does the escalators. I bet they've put her in a position where she doesn't have to come across many people. Like on a random escalator that no one uses. Cushy number. 

You have to pass five sets of scanning and security before you can go to your post. I was on the fifth floor again. Right at the top. They've put me up there for every game apart from England v Croatia. That was the first Wembley game. I walked up the escalators quickly so I could join the hi-vis pick up queue but that was a long queue too and soon the nervous breakdown girl and ranting lesbian were behind me. It was alright though, this queue went down fast and I was soon sitting at the top of the empty bowl eating my crisps. I always enjoy this part. I like watching the prepping of the stadium and the practising of the presenter. More and more stewards joined area 501-507. Those were the bays we were to be positioned at. We always wait in the bowl for about an hour before being given our positions. 

Daniel was my supervisor again today. He'd been my supervisor for the Italy v Spain game the previous day. He's a nice lad and I was thankful that he was again my supervisor. I think he might be studying or something. He's a young man of around 23 and articulate. I'd like to know his back story.

Daniel knew I was a good steward from the previous day where I was watching the Spanish and Italian fans on a bay and walking up and down the steps and checking tickets. I was rubbish at working out where people were sitting as numbers have always caused me great confusion. It was quicker to let the fans work it out for themselves as I kept sending them to the wrong places and there are a lot of steps if I point right and really it's left or down and it's really up. Anyway Daniel didn't see all the great confusion I'd caused the previous day so he asked me if I'd prefer to be on a bay like that again or in a more secluded place. I opted for a more secluded place. The Italian and Spanish fans were very understanding but the England fans I would expect not so much. He then took me to the biggest bar in Wembley Stadium. He said "All you've got to do is stand in the middle and just watch out for anyone smoking or anyone fighting and then just ring on the yellow telephone if anything kicks off." Now this was my ideal place! I couldn't believe how my luck was in. This was even better than the lift! No checking tickets, no telling people not to drink, no arguing about all the different rules. Just standing in a massive bar full of drunken England fans. I was fine with that. Pubs and bars are my usual environs as we know all too well.

After a while an Asian boy was sent to join me. He was a spare and I guess Daniel thought I could do with some back up as it was the biggest bar in the stadium and I'd walked past it before so I was familiar with how busy it gets before the match and at half time. He was a nice boy called Nazim. We got talking. I told him I'd lived in London since 2002. He told me he was born in 2003. I always forget I'm older nowadays. I never feel old though so it does make me laugh. He told me he thought I looked about thirty. I was happy with that. It seems to be a thing at every match we try and guess our co stewards age. 

Eventually the fans started to arrive. They seemed very sober and subdued. I wasn't expecting that. The atmosphere seemed very different from previous games. I then realised it was because they were nervous about this game. I always forget about the fixtures and football side to the Euros. I always forget how important it is to these people. I don't know what's important to me in the same way. I've never really been a fan of anything apart from E.T. so I can't really relate to a game or even a pop group. 

Nazim was summoned by Daniel after about twenty minutes in the bar to another job in the stadium. I didn't know what or where as Daniel just came and took him away. I didn't mind being in the bar with all the anxious England fans sipping their £6.90 paper cups of Heineken. 

After a few minutes of Nazim being sent away another young Asian steward came to join me. His name was Farhan. He told me that he'd asked to be moved because as a Muslim he's not allowed to be near or touch alcohol. He told me that even if his shoes touch alcohol then that would be a sin and that he would not be able to pray. He told me that he needs to pray four times a day and that he was due to go off and pray. Now the position he was in was manning a fire escape in the corridor where all the England fans were singing and spilling their drinks. The fans always tend to do their singing and chanting in the corridors instead of the bar for some reason. Farhan was only about 18. I felt a bit sorry for him. There was no way he was getting out of this stadium without alcohol on his shoes. He told me he was watching where he was walking and stepping over spilt beer. As no alcohol is allowed in the stands I told him he should really be put in there. It was getting busier now as the sea of fans descended down Wembley Way and up the steps into the stadium. The corridors were full of spilt Heineken. The anxious fans I first encountered were soon turning into the England fans I'm familiar with, downing pint after pint and trying to get enough in before kick off. It was only 6pm. Farhan told me how he needed to go and pray but couldn't step on the alcohol. Bloodyhell I thought. What was he expecting? Obviously not this. I went to get a supervisor so that he could be moved but I couldn't find one. He then said he'd walk through the stands and find one and ask to be moved. They weren't going to refuse him on religious grounds so off he went and I didn't see him after that. 

I didn't mind being alone again stewarding my massive bar full of now drunken singing England fans. I thought it was all quite exciting and plus I didn't have to talk to anyone. Nothing of note happened in the two hours before kick off. Just the relentless singing of "Three Lions" and that's been the most annoying part of stewarding these games but even that's stopped being annoying now. It's become like a Hare Krishna chant or a recitation of The Rosary to me. Only the English could write a song about their football team losing. 

I briefly chatted to a man from Oldham who was after purchasing a program. I like it when that happens. No one spoke to me in the bar. I was quite happy. There was no trouble and soon it was kick off and they were gone and all was quiet again. 

I went over to look at the lovely view of Wembley Way. The light was looking prefect and I could tell it would be a wonderful sunset. Just me and the debris of hundreds of paper Heineken cups and a sea of spilt drinks. No bother for me here. No telling drunks what to do. It was very peaceful and then I heard a thunderous noise but not the usual celebratory one and I at once knew what had happened. Denmark had scored. Oh dear. This was not boding well for my peace. I got back to my post in the middle of the bar and a man came running in, yelping like some wounded animal. Some other men came in looking tearful. It was only the thirtieth minute. Before long they'd composed themselves and got back to their seats and I was alone again. 

Nine minutes later I could hear the kind of roar I was waiting for. I spent the nine minutes before the equaliser worried about the domestic violence rate soaring. Soon it was half time and the jubilant fans came to down as many pints as they could in fifteen minutes.  A lot of the fans spend half time queuing for their £6.90 pints, leave them untouched and go back in. This half time was very loud. A man started to bang his fist on the ice cooler on the bar and start a chant. Another man started to do the same with the shutters of a closed up corner bar. I went over and told them to stop it and so they did. The authority of a hi-vis eh? A posh woman in her late 60's walked towards me and said, "Why do you do a job like this? This is terrible!" I told her that I enjoy a challenge but she'd already walked away. I guess like Farhan, it wasn't what she was expecting either.

The fans were soon all back in and peace and my perfect view of Wembley Way and the sunset were restored. Nothing much happened after that. They close the bars after half time and I was thankful for that. No one could bother me now. The match seemed to go on for ages.  I suppose it did go into extra time but I was enjoying myself. Daniel even sent someone to replace me so I could take a fifteen minute break. This post was so good that you even get a break! Wow! I did need to sit down so I went to the stinking staff room with the overflowing bins and mould on the walls in bay 514 to sit down. I was able to check my phone for the first time. If you're caught checking your phone whilst stewarding then sometimes you're sacked straightaway. The fifteen minutes went by in a flash but I was glad to be out of that depressing room and back in my spacious bar. 

I really didn't want it to go into penalties as I couldn't work out anyway I could get home if the tubes stopped. The match finished late the previous night and a lot of the stewards had to get taxis which the agency won't pay for. I was happy when I heard the last roar. I was standing in my bar and it started to shake. The whole stadium shakes when they go mad. It's a lovely thing. It lifts the spirits I'd say. 

So England won and Wembley Way was all full of fireworks and thousands of fans. After clearing the stadium of the 60,000 fans we were sent back in to check all the seats to see whether any were broken. We have to do this after every match. I'm always sent up to the very top. I look down occasionally but not much as I just want to do it as fast as I can and get out. There were quite a few broken ones this time and all those need to be reported. 

Finally there was the debrief. Daniel told us what an excellent job we had all done. Then I heard my name mentioned. He saw me and said "Oh, I was just checking you were here, I thought I'd left you in the bar!" Ha ha. all was well. 

It takes about twenty minutes to get out of the stadium due to handing in the hi-vis and the supervisors have to scan you out twice. Signing out is about as complicated as signing in. It was 11:45pm so I decided that the quickest way to get home would be the overground from Wembley Stadium Station. The thousands were all still celebrating on Wembley Way. Wembley Stadium Station was indeed the quickest way and soon I was home with my cup of tea and leftover pizza and watching the replay on the telly. My attention span didn't last and I soon went to bed. I find football boring.

ENGLAND v GERMANY

ENGLAND 2-0 GERMANY

Upon meeting the supervising steward on floor 5  I asked to man the lift. 

I got to my position and there I was 11:15am until 8pm. Cool. That was me and that was my post in Wembley. I'd done it before and all would be well..

It was boring for a while. A young man manning the stairs next door asked me how old he thought he was. 21 I said. Correct he said. I told him I was 39 to which he laughed. He said "Before you told me you had a boyfriend I was about to ask you for your number!". He then told me I looked 28. Kind. Extremely. He was a lovely young man. Sri Lanka. Well he was pretty. They always are.

The England fans started to come in. Up the escalators. They drank Heineken pints and pints upon pints. That's why I love my little lift job.

I spoke to a family. A fella that was 20. He kept asking me if he could get to level 1 for £200 in cash. Soon it was £300 in cash. Coked off his face he was.  "No" I said. I kept telling him, "Even if you do go down, tickets need to be shown." He wasn't having any of it. Drunk people never do. The man was relentless as drunk people often are. He gave me £20 to guard his drinks till half time. I told him "No" but he shoved it into my hand and I put it into my terrible trouser pocket. 

The relentless drunk and his family came back at half time. The drinks had gone but he forgot about the £20. His friend still kept going on about getting to level 1. I said no and reiterated my story.

Half time had gone. I was thankful. No one was around apart from a few stewards and we laughed about the fans. About fifteen minutes into the second half I told an orange vis that I hadn't had a break. He said "You what? that's terrible!" What company are you working for? 

 "Expedia", 

To which he replied "No wonder!"

I sat down in the stinking horrible stewards room and ate my lonely packet of crisps.

I heard them score. I went to have slight glance but was soon told to go back to my my post. The break room was much more terrible than my post. I heard them score again. 

And so to my post. The riot police were extremely polite. They asked if they could use MY lift!

 . 

 

ENGLAND v CROATIA

 2pm Kick off

Wembley Stadium

England 1 Croatia 0

I decided to get back into my football stewarding. It's something I enjoyed before the pandemic hit. I thought I'd give it a go. There was nowt else to do. 

I'd never been to Wembley Stadium, the closest I ever got was being picked up by my agency in the Lidl car park and going to Luton. Previous entries will tell you all about those ordeals.

This opening game fell on one of the hottest days of the year. The morning however, was comfortable and fresh. My uniform is forever uncomfortable; white shirt, black trousers, clip on tie and black boots. It forever makes me look two stones heavier than I am.

I felt quite excited walking towards those famous Wembley steps with the other penguins. It was quite a novelty to be back at work after all.

I was told to queue towards the right of the steps. The queue snaked round and a vinegar tits type steward told us all to social distance. That was an impossible I must say.

I was stood behind a girl who was clearly on the spectrum. She just kept saying, "I need to sign in, I need to sign in! What time is it? Would you like a biscuit? Would you like a sip of my coffee?" 

I soon lost her and joined another queue. It's people like her that make me feel okay about being a steward. 

Nowadays you have to have proof of a negative Covid test 24 hours before your shift. It does take a while to get in. I've had my two jabs anyway but still. They'll never take that as proof. There's no social distancing in this stadium and I'll tell all later.

Upon presenting my negative Covid result I was presented with a wrist band. The kind lady put it on for me. Everyone was extremely friendly I must say. I was excited too! I just felt so happy to be part of something. Being back at work was rather fabulous too!

And so another queue ensued. This was my security agency that I was contracted out to. I was given another part of my lanyard and given a choice of chicken, ham or cheese sandwiches. I was then told to go on my way up the several flights of steps. I was so excited!

Upon arrival on the first floor of the stadium I was greeted by a couple of jovial men in their 50's. They were old hats at security and I could tell. The pass that they gave to me at my agency desk wouldn't work. I was to go down and do it all over again. It didn't matter to me though. I'd had a lack of exercise since the pandemic. I was happy to be running up and down steps.

It all worked out and soon I was in the stadium proper. I was put through another metal detector and then I was in. I felt so happy. I was on my way! 

I was to be put on the ground floor and after a briefing about stuff like security codes and what to do if you see anyone dodgy or any suspicious packages then I'd know what to do. I listen to these briefings intently as I know how important they are. I'm not being up my own arse here but after the Manchester Arena bombing.... I followed the enquiry very closely.  I now  know  how important stewards are. Crucial.

There were two male stewards behind me in the briefing taking the piss out of the man giving the briefing. The briefing steward in his 50's was really cool. You could tell he was old hat in security just like the men outside. I bet those two stupid stewards would be the first to run out.  

I was given my hi-vis and ate my chicken mayonnaise sandwich. I was given my position doing the steps in the best placement in the stadium apparently. I don't care for football. I felt bad about that because all the boys wanted my position. Huh huh...

My co-steward was a young black girl. We got on like a house on fire and kept saying how much we hated football. When no one else was listening mind. 

Throughout the match the supervisor kept telling us to stop nattering. She separated us in the end but the little black girl kept coming back to me and telling me how fantastic I was. She was fantastic too. She told me about her two children and her lack of GCSE's. I told her about my failures and I attempted to make her feel better. 

Three Blackpool men wanted to put their flag on the balcony railings. I told them that that would be okay because then my Mum could see me if she watched and so could Dave. The Blackpool fan was extremely drunk and I had to keep taking his drink off him throughout the game. I'd been sober for four days and once I'm sober the drink doesn't bother me. 

Blackpool lad told me his name was "Scooter Boy", an old Mod I guess. He kept asking me to dance and pulling his false teeth out. I didn't worry about it. My little black co worker thought it was funny. She'd got her SIA badge but never worked an event or even a football match. 

I missed the goal. I was in the toilet. 

  

   she she can