Saturday 25th January 2020
3pm kick off
I was looking forward to this assignment as I'd heard all about Millwall being a bit dodgy, y'know like with violence and hooligan types.
It's only a five minute walk from South Bermondsey Overground to The Den. The idea of The Den sounded ominous. I was almost slightly scared.
Upon arrival I was told to sign in with 'Wise Security.' The security of the security was tight. I had to hand over my passport. Then I had to go and sign in at another desk. At the end of a breeze blocked corridor I was met by a big black man who pointed me into a room. It was no spacious than a twelve by eight foot prison cell. There was a woman behind a formica fold up table. She looked not the kind to be spoken to apart from to say yes and no. She shouted over to the big black man and said 'Are you not checking people's uniforms?'
I knew exactly what was wrong with mine. I only had black jeans and they stipulated in the WhatsApp message the previous day that jeans would not be tolerated. I got away with it at Leyton Orient but I was quickly realising that this wasn't the friendly O's. I wasn't worried though, I just thought if she is going to send me home then at least I turned up and I'm not going to get the £30 fine for calling in sick. Then Vinegar Tits said 'Alright, we'll let it go this time but make sure next time when you work for "US" you've gotta be wearing the right trousers yeah?' I said 'Yes.'
'Here's your jacket,' said another man whilst old Vinegar Tits was taking down my passport number and comparing my photo to my non make-up terribleness.
The man quickly put on my hi-vis and sent me up towards another corridor. I could see light at the end of this one and then upon walking up the steps it became clear to me I was arriving at "The Den."
I saw a group of men in hi-vis so I said 'I've been told to come up here.'
'Okay, is it your first time here?'
'It's my first time doing a match like this, I was put on a quiet gate at Leyton Orient a couple of weeks ago but that's it.'
They nodded and just said 'Well, you can talk to us for a bit or you can sit in that stand over there.'
Well, I thought, there's no good talking. I've been sober for three days and I can't talk to them about the goings on of Bet, Deidre and Liz circa 1994. I doubt they were even born.
I didn't know what a stand was, however most supervising stewards are people of few words. I went to sit with a group of other stewards and everyone laughed. The supervisors meant the next stand. I didn't want to be stood down so I went to stand my ground on the other stand where they told me to sit.
I was all alone on this Millwall stand by the goal posts for about five minutes. I contemplated what the day had in store for me then one by one the other stewards came in to sit beside me in my stand, each wearing the same luminous orange Wise Security hi-vis. It reminded me of Fraggle Rock when the Doozers go to work building around Fraggle Rock. The stand soon filled up and before long I was surrounded by two hundred or so orange hi-vis.
With everyone settled the chief steward came to do the briefing. Millwall had been in trouble the previous week. Monkey chants and other racist things had gone on. If we were to see it or hear it then we were to put our hands up to report it. The supporter will then get a lifetime ban. Great, well deserved I thought but what if the supporter that has the ban waits outside the stadium and sees me and kills me? I know how passionate these Millwall fans can be and I'm pretty difficult to miss with my bleached hair plus I'm the only white female steward out of the two hundred or so stewards there. I thought, well I'll just wait and see where I'm placed. I might be in a nice lonely corridor where no one goes. I love being placed on what others would call dull gates and boring corridors. My mind is forever where the real action is and I'm never bored. No such luck at this game though. I was given a hard baseball cap to wear and placed directly at the gate beside the goal posts on the Millwall side of The Den. I was to stand there with my back towards the game at all times and to just look at the Millwall fans to make sure no one was drinking, smoking or fighting. My main responsibility was to make sure no one stormed the gate and ran onto the pitch. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to do that being five foot three and not very strong. Anyway, I'll give anything a try. Kind of.
It was quite cool at The Den because I was given a little fold up seat to sit on once the match had begun and then a little ball boy had his little stool next to me. The ball boy was only about ten. I thought they'd be older than that at Millwall. The ones that I met at Orient were all about fifteen. I watched while the stand filled up. I could hear the footballers behind me warming up. I then understood why I was given the hard baseball cap. Footballs started coming from everywhere being kicked into the stand. A lot of the fans kept being hit and the force at which they were being kicked was a very strong force indeed. A boy of about five and his Dad were in the stand. I'd clocked them earlier and was thinking how nice it was. Y'know a little boy going to watch football with his Dad. Then I saw a ball coming towards them at full pelt only stopped by the little boys cheek. He started to cry. It looked very painful for the rest of the people that got hit by the practice balls never mind the five year old boy. I felt so sad for him. Especially when the Dad had no sympathy and started to tell the boy to stop crying. I kept trying to make eye contact with the Dad and he knew I was looking but he looked such a nasty man that in the end I thought it was best to not get involved. It was his son after all and I'm a steward not a social worker. I only wanted to offer the boy a tissue. The boy looked such a sensitive soul. He was wearing a hat and a scarf all in one to make him look like a dinosaur. I just wanted to give him a cuddle. The boy eventually stopped crying just before kick off.
The whistle went and so I sat down on my little fold up seat. It's such a luxury being able to sit down as a steward. The stand didn't look too bad. There were a few empty seats in my part of the stand. There was a large man that had been sitting in one of the front rows opposite me since 1:30 when they opened the gates. He was wearing tracksuit pants. I could tell he had probably sat in that specific seat since time began. He reminded me of a failed football manager and he may well have been. There was something very peculiar about him that I couldn't place my finger on. The other two people that came to sit closer were the little boy and his father.
I could tell that for about twenty minutes or so the ball was up the other end. I was glad of this but of course the Millwall fans weren't. It just meant for me that they couldn't go shouting anything or storming my gate. My peace wasn't to last. When the ball did reach the my end the awful father and the big peculiar man started to stand up and shout all sorts of things "Fuck off you cunt" being the most popular of their expressions. I noticed that through the peculiar man's tracksuits trousers every time he got excited and Millwall were about to score a goal I could see he had a huge erection. That made me laugh.
Soon enough it was half time. I stay where I am at half time but I have to stand up to keep my eye on the supporters. A lovely old man walked down the steps and offered me one of his Liquorice Allsorts. I thought, aye they're not all bad. Hardly anyone was as far as I could see. I took one of those jellied ones and thanked the man and wished him a good second half.
My friend, Jamie Manners is a season ticket holder at Millwall so I told him to keep an eye out for me and soon he was down to my gate for a quick chat. He said it was quite easy to spot me as I'd put my pony tail outside the back bit of my baseball hard cap. That was actually for the benefit of the BBC TV cameras as this match was being filmed for Match of the Day. I was very much looking forward to getting home and putting my feet up with a cup of tea and trying to spot myself on telly.
Half time was soon over and the erection man and the bad dad were soon back in their seats. Not for long though. It was a difficult second half as they both kept running up to my gate upon any bit of action and shouting "Fucking cunt" phrased in many different ways. At one point the bad dad fell over the gate and looked like he had hurt himself. His head hit the tarmac by my feet and I pushed him back over. He seemed embarrassed and I was glad about that.
In the sixty-second minute there was a roar from the Sheffield end. They had scored. After that, the Millwall supporters seemed to calm down a bit. I think they knew that Millwall were playing badly and the ball spent most of the time at the Sheffield end. I was glad of that. I was sick of erection man and bad dad storming my gate. The Millwall fans started to get disheartened and a few started to leave and then more and then the eighty-fourth minute came and another roar was heard from the Sheffield fans. The Millwall fans had all given up. I felt sorry for Jamie Manners and the Liquorice Allsort man though. Most of the Millwall fans seemed very nice.
And so the match ended 2-0 to Sheffield United. I was happy. The match was pretty uneventful for me.
Back at home with my cup of tea I settled down to watch Match of The Day. I'd been looking forward to this all day. They just show the highlights on Match of the Day and the ball wasn't down where I was for much of the match so I wasn't expecting to see me much but all of a sudden it showed my end of the ground and I could see my little seat but there was no blonde ponytail sticking out. There was a man in my place. That must have been the point I'd gone for my five minute toilet break. Oh dear.
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