LUTON v CARDIFF

Saturday 8th February 2020

3pm kick off

The pick up point was Lidl car park in Wembley. There I was to wait for a minibus to take me and the other stewards to Luton F.C.

   I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get to the Lidl car park in Wembley so I set off incredibly early from Leytonstone. There's a fine of £30 if you don't turn up or even if you call in sick for a shift. I always like to arrive with plenty of time and be dry for at least two days before any shift.

   I'd arrived at 08:45, an hour and fifteen minutes too early for my 10:00 pick up. Luckily there was a McDonald's so I thought I'd go in and have a coffee until the minibus arrives. The McDonald's was pretty much empty apart from about six or so homeless people spaced about the place. They looked like they had been sleeping at their tables all night. The place stank of piss but I got my coffee and sat down by a window so I could keep an eye on the car park.

   The time seemed to go fast in McDonald's and before long I spotted a minibus. I wasn't sure whether it was the right one but as I got closer I could see that the couple of men looked like they were in security.

   I told them who I was but the Chinese driver said I wasn't on his list and that I was to wait for the next minibus as I would be on Roger's list. The driver was a friendly sort and took great joy in telling me all about his heroic security moments.

   He told me that he had stopped a man at The Last Night of The Proms who had one hundred bullets on him. He said he stopped another shooting once. 'I said no photography please.' He found himself quite the comedian. I preferred him to the amount of monosyllabic idiots I've met doing this job. He asked me if I fancied earning a bit extra after Luton and going up to Ally Pally to pack up the stewards' kit there. There was a gig on, Bombay Bicycle Club. I politely declined. After a football match I'm always a bit drained and it was going to be a long enough day already. After a while a few other stewards arrived and so his minibus set off.

   I waited with the new arrivals for the other minibus. I met a rare English person called John. John was well spoken and in his fifties. I couldn't quite work him out. Why would a well spoken slightly built English man be doing football stewarding? He didn't have an SIA badge or even want one. I did wonder whether he was writing a book too or whether he was an actor doing research for a role.

  After about ten minutes our mini bus arrived. I was on Roger's list so we got in the van along with a few other recent arrivals and waited for the others. A very overweight Indian man was the first latecomer to turn up. He seemed to know everyone and everyone seemed warm towards him. He struggled to get in the minibus as it was quite a high step so two people had to pull him in. Once in he proceeded to offer round a load of almond pastries he had bought with him. 

  After waiting another half hour a couple more men turned up but by 11 we were ready to set off. It was nice being on the motorway to Luton. I'd never been to Luton before and I always love towns like that. Places that I can never imagine living. I often have days out by myself to these places. Basildon, Milton Keynes, High Wycombe, you know the type.

   As we approached the football ground the streets of red brick terraced houses reminded me of Werneth in Oldham where I grew up. It looked to be 100% Pakistani in this area. I felt very much at home.

   We walked down a long terraced street and every few houses were interrupted by one of the football ground gates. I now understood what they meant by terraces.

   Upon arrival at the ground we did the usual signing in and then we were given a hi-vis jacket. After that we were sent to one of the stands to receive the briefing. The chief steward told us that Cardiff were a risky fan side. They were known for drunkeness, drugs, violence, racism and every other form of ism. They didn't take too kindly to people of a different colour and they didn't much like the English. I was beginning to feel a bit apprehensive about what lay ahead for me. We were then given our positions. I was taken with a well built woman to be put on one of the Cardiff gates. The supervisor we were assigned was an extremely obese bald man with a speech impediment. He seemed nice enough. There were two gates, she must have been old hat at this ground as she quickly told the supervisor that she would take care of the first gate where nothing much happened apart from letting the fans out at the end of the game. I was then assigned to the other gate. He told me that this gate was the busier gate. If I heard a loud banging on this gate I was to look through the peep hole, check who it was and I was only to let people in who were official such as other stewards and the police.

   I was then left and soon enough the loud banging on the gate began. It was mainly police at first coming into the ground and then after about half an hour the fans started to arrive. They mainly came through the turnstyles but I had to open the gate for the fans who were too fat to get through the turnstyles and there were a lot of them. I felt alright though as the police had chosen to do their searches outside my gate. They searched everyone going into the ground by patting them down plus they had a dog close by to sniff anything untoward out. 

   More and more Cardiff fans started to arrive. They were mostly well built men and they were mostly all highly inebriated. They were shouting their chants about how Swansea are cunts. I thought, do they know they're in Luton and playing Luton today?

   I was thankful when another steward arrived. Her name was Fiona and she said 'I've come to double up with you.' I thanked her and explained that I'd never been at this ground or done this job much before. I'd noticed her sitting in the stands earlier. She was stick thin, shaking and looked like she had been ravaged by crack or heroin or both. She told me she'd done this job for many years and that she had an SIA badge but preferred to just be a normal steward now. She explained that before the accident she was quite high up in the stewarding game. I asked for more details about the accident, trying my best to be delicate. She seemed like the kind of woman who could shatter at any moment. She said that a barrier had fallen on her at one of the football grounds. In my mind I thought there was more to this wreckage of a woman standing before me than just a barrier falling on top of her. I was trying to get more details about what had gone on in her life but she just kept shouting at the men, 'Sir, the toilets are on your left.' She had a really annoying high pitched whiny voice. God, I thought, this is going to be a long ninety minutes and then there's the rest. A man who was taking care of a child with down syndrome asked her where the disabled toilet was but she didn't know and I didn't know so whereas I'd just say, 'I don't know but if you go up the steps and ask another steward then I'm sure they'll be able to help.' Instead she turned this simple question into a panic that she didn't know. I just stood there. They just went up the steps in the end in search of the disabled toilet whilst she was still there ranting about why and how she didn't know. They were long gone but she wouldn't stop going on about how she was going to raise this question at the debriefing and for about half an hour she kept repeating herself 'It makes me look like a fool if I don't know where it is. We need to know where the disabled toilets are. What if someone else asks?' I tried to calm her down, 'Don't worry, when the supervisor comes to check on us we'll just ask them,' but still this didn't calm her and she just went on and on. The banging at the gate was a good distraction for her. she seemed to enjoy opening it and I was glad it gave her something to do. Perhaps it made her life worth living. I just stood there not doing or saying anything. I tend to spend most of my stewarding time just looking around at everyone and smiling.

   The next of Fiona's obsessions came when she spotted a man going into the ladies toilet. There were no doors on the outside of the toilets so it was quite an easy mistake to make. By this time the corridor was teaming with the drunken Welsh men chatting and chanting. She ran up to the man shouting 'Sir, sir! That's the ladies toilet, yours is over there!' This really brought her to the attention of the crowd of his mates waiting around outside. They kept laughing at her, going, 'Have you been having sex with our mate in the toilet? Aye look Barry, she's been having sex with Dafydd in the toilet!' The men kept laughing and shouting about it. Bloodyhell I thought, if any man goes into that toilet there's no way I'm going to stop them. Fiona then comes back to the gate and says to me, 'We need to keep an eye on that toilet, if any men go in there then we need to stop them.' Fuck that, I thought. I saw plenty of men going in as I was at the opposite side to it but Fiona was keeping her close eye on the goings on and just kept running up to them shouting 'Sir, sir, the gentlemen's are over there!' Bloodyhell did she not learn the first time? 95% of the crowd was male anyway. I mean, why start an argument with a drunken Welsh football hooligan for the sake of a piss? And this calling everyone sir business, what's that about? Is she going to call the women Ma'am? I just address everyone as "Aye you!" If there's anything I need to tell them that's important. 

   Most of the men dispersed into the stands by kick off with only a couple of lurkers having a fag by the open air bit before the steps.

   I didn't have much to say to Fiona. I'd got the measure of her and worked out she was a bit of a boring nut job instead of an interesting one. She was someone who took stewarding very seriously indeed. I started to wish they had sent me one of those monosyllabic eighteen year olds.

   There was a refreshment stand opposite my position where you could purchase £5 hot dogs. It was manned by two young black girls. It could only have been about fifteen minutes after kick off when an extremely paralytic man went up to the hot dog stand. I remember looking at him and wondering how he'd actually got into the game in the state he was in. He must have been in his early sixties and was wearing a Harrington and a Burberry baseball cap. Anyway, I didn't think too much of it and continued to guard the door. All of a sudden there was a panic at the hot dog stand. The Burberry man had tried to lean in and kiss one of the hot dog girls. Fiona was straight over causing more panic whilst the man scarpered back up the steps. Fiona kept acting like some kind of heroine to the shocked girl. 'It's my job to protect you, it's my duty.' Then as usual came the repeating and repeating and causing more panic to yet another situation. A supervisor was summoned and they asked what had happened and if the girl could give a description of the man so they could have him ejected. I walked over but with Fiona repeating herself and with the young girl still in shock I was invisible. I was attempting to tell them that I saw him and had a description but with everyone ignoring me I just went back to my post. It's kind of handy that I'm always observing things. It's a habit of mine but in this case I just couldn't be bothered shouting above the chaos.

   At half time they sent down an extra steward to keep an eye on the hot dog girls. He was an Asian man of few words but he was a calm change and seemed nice.

   Now at Luton they open this away gate at half time so the fans have more room to go out and smoke. They get some barriers and turn it into a pen for them. I had to make sure they didn't drink alcohol in the pen. They could only smoke and drink alcohol in a two foot space between the gate and the pen where the roof ends. I had to keep chasing the men with their pints into the pen to explain this stupid rule but they just stared at me blankly and carried on drinking and smoking in the bright sunshine. I gave up chasing the men and just left them to it. Fiona wasn't one to leave them to it and kept chasing the men around the pen shouting 'Sir, sir, you can't drink alcohol here!' Meanwhile, I pretended not to notice and chatted to some young lads about how these rules are ridiculous and we all had a laugh about it.

   Soon half time was over and everyone started to move back inside. A man in his late fifties and his friend came up to me. The man had a very strong accent and I had no clue what he was asking me so I kept asking him to repeat it and then after about the fifth attempt I got it. He was asking me if I liked S&M and did I like being whipped and pointing at the policeman's handcuffs he said, 'See, look at him and his handcuffs.' I'd like to think I'd be able to come back with something witty, like something Bet Lynch would say but my mind went blank so I just moved away.

   The other stewards started to move the barriers in. I didn't bother as I'm not used to carrying heavy things and if I can get away with someone else doing something I don't fancy doing then I will.

   Fiona started to carry a barrier in single-handedly. She looked as though she had done that kind of thing many times before but as she turned to place the barrier against the inside wall she knocked a pissed up man's two pints to the floor with the end of the five foot long barrier. All hell broke loose. Everyone started to laugh and she even looked like she was laughing. All the men started to chant, 'Buy him another pint...Buy him another pint...' I wasn't sure what to do so I just stood there laughing too. Luckily a couple of senior stewards were around and could see she was in distress and near enough having a nervous breakdown. She was shaking even more uncontrollably now. Oh dear, I did feel bad for her. The drunk six foot five inch Welsh man just stood there dumbstruck and Fiona was taken outside by one of the other stewards to sit down on the kerb with a bottle of water to recover.

   A senior steward was seeing to the man and seeking to replace his lost pints but the man was looking down at his bent bleeding finger which looked to me to be broken. The steward asked him to go to the medical room but the man refused so the steward radioed for the St. John's Ambulance to come down and take a look at the damaged finger. I couldn't overhear what the damage was due to all the commotion. The gates were now closed so I returned to my guard duty. After about twenty minutes Fiona returned back to her post to carry on. The man said he was going to sue for compensation. Bloodyhell, I thought, this woman and barriers clearly don't mix.

   The second half of a football match always goes much quicker despite any extra time. A few of the Cardiff fans started to leave as it was still 0-0 and they said they were playing badly. I fully took over gate duty letting the police in and out and the Cardiff fans out. A police officer commented about how good I was on my gate duty and asked me if I'd thought about joining the force. I told him I'd have a think about it.

   In the seventy-third minute there was a massive roar. I could tell it was Cardiff and I was really thankful for that goal. If all went well and Luton didn't equalize then I could open the gate in about fifteen minutes and let the happy Welshmen be on their way. That's exactly what happened. They seemed to be much more sober and polite than when they went in and I kept nodding at their smiling faces and smiling back saying "Bye!" The atmosphere was jovial and the police officers were taking photos of groups of fans outside their coaches. All was well with Wales.

   After all the fans had left, I handed in my hi-vis jacket and looked out for John, the English steward and the overweight Indian steward so we could walk back to the minibus. John asked me how it had gone on the gate. "Alright," I said.