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.
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