Spoil Sport
27 October 2009 - 14:32
by Leo Kent
I’m sure many people have talked about the new Wembley stadium which isn’t really that new anymore but I thought I’d give my two pennies’ worth. Probably the only thing I liked or cared for in football was the old 1920s Wembley stadium. With its twin towers and the art deco banqueting hall it verged on the beautiful. After its demolition and nearly £800m later we have ended up with a soulless, generic piece of ubiquity that even makes the Ikea monster close by look quite charming in comparison.
The pathetic angled arch that rainbows over the new stadium is an unrealised attempt to provide a sense of individuality. It has failed magnificently. The circular hall that wraps around the pitch is an endless repetition of gimmick and merchandise. Entering this is to experience a sort of hellish Groundhog day scenario you fear you may never escape from.
I visited the stadium to get its full flavour and the result was a bit like eating a whole packet of Haribo, leaving me with a headache and nausea and a desperate yearning for something organic.
A football match between England and some eastern European country, I think Slovenia, was going on, in what is known as a ‘friendly’. I feel unnerved by this loaded expression: what happens if it’s an unfriendly match. Do the players go round knee-capping the opposition?
As the match started I decided to remain in the passageway. I stared morosely at a rogue pubic hair as it shuddered in the wind generated by the collective roar of half men/half beasts. This unnoticed vignette illustrated the pathos of the situation almost too perfectly.
I ventured into a food hall - its industrial name is indicative of its contents: a trough for louts - to find that bottle lids were removed and confiscated by the staff. At first I thought this ridiculous, believing it was some unthinking bureaucratic measure, but thought it quite a sensible plan after I learned that this is because by removing the lid, if a fan chooses to use the bottle as a missile aimed at players on the other team, the weight of impact will be diminished by the loss of liquid. We really have come far since the dark ages, haven’t we? The only difference is that where as rotting vegetables were the most popular form of ammunition, now garish-coloured, logo-suffocated cans of fizzy pop are used.
At the end of the game as I made for the exit I found myself swept up within a sea of supporters. As we all funnelled down Olympic Way to the underground we were faced with policeman on horseback creating a sort of sieve like barrier to ease the flow. Initially, like the bottle cap confiscation, I thought this a little unnecessary but when I turned back to see thousands of sunburnt, puffed up faces, chanting discordant nonsense as they bulged forward it started to make sense.