Well I’ve only just come back down to earth. What a rush! What a buzz! We really couldn’t have scripted it any better. What a wonderful farewell!
Arriving at the ground around 6.30pm I feared that everything was going to go horribly wrong. My taxi had to drop me off by the statue as it was impossible to cut through the throng. I was horrified to see the scenes in front of me. The Manchester United bus was attempting to get past The Boleyn and into the stadium but of course the sheer volume of people was preventing that from happening. Then the bottles were launched left, right and centre. The police looked completely powerless to contain it and the surges were frightening. I got stuck right in the middle of it all and I’m not ashamed to say I was pretty scared. The crush meant you were unable to move in any direction, missiles were whizzing past our heads and I felt total panic start to rise as I fought to get through the crowd and catch my breath! I had a real sinking feeling. I was desperate that this didn’t mar what was promising to be a hugely emotional and vital event in our history. I don’t want to dwell on what happened outside. I’m disappointed that we have to talk about that at all. I don’t want to apportion any blame to any party. The arrival time of the coach, the policing, the lack of organisation or simple foresight…but I will say that any fool who throws glass at anyone or anything has no place in football. Those Neanderthals can jog on as far as I’m concerned and I hope they are caught and banned for life. It was clearly just a few thugs hiding behind the peaceful majority of innocent fans who just wanted to get to the game but I was massively ashamed to see that. I’m relieved nobody was seriously hurt so we could eventually enjoy the celebrations inside.
Putting that night into words and describing exactly how I felt isn’t going to be easy but I’ll try.
I’d attended the rehearsal the previous night so I had an idea of what was coming but when I walked in and felt the energy in the air it took my breath away for the second time that evening…this time for good reasons! People say “the atmosphere was electric” and it’s a well-worn cliché but it’s the only phrase that comes close. The whole place was literally buzzing. Everything was alive! Every cell and atom of every single being was jumping. You could hear it! I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.
I went straight up to the offices to meet Ben Shephard for the final run through with the events team. The entire place was in full song. The chorus of bubbles that surrounded us was deafening. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so exhilarated. I was also petrified! Not because it was a live event in front of 35,000 football fans (although that was a pretty daunting prospect!) but because I wanted the night to be special for every single person in the place. I loved (will always love) the Boleyn. I virtually grew up there. I’d had the best and worst days of my life in those stands. I’d shared incredible moments with my family and friends, I’d hugged total strangers in the sheer joy of a goal celebration. I’d commiserated and laughed and cheered and cried. This was our last goodbye. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to do it justice. No pressure there then!
I went to take my seat with my boyfriend James, my brother Billy and my step dad. We were pumped. Teams out. Bubbles filled the air. Kick off! The match was unbelievable. I don’t need to tell you that. We couldn’t have written a more perfect script. The universe conspired to give us the most fitting end to a superb season. A fitting end to to the Boleyn. We were in raptures.
I tried to take it all in. To remember and savour every single flawless moment. To drink in every drop. An easy win would have been better on the nerves. But it wouldn’t have been West Ham.
Then I had to leave for the ceremony. My stomach churning. My jaw set. My eyes burning with excitement. I was focused. I watched full time flash by, the lap of honour, the stage was set and presenter mode switched on. It was time!
I went to my place and convinced Marlon Harewood, Carlton Cole and Anton Ferdinand to remain in their seats at full time to be interviewed. Most of the former players had scarpered off to the bar before the event started so I was grateful they hung around! It was a nerve-wracking few moments while Ben did the opening segment. Live on Sky is monumental enough, live in front of thousands West Ham fans was initially terrifying! Once we started though I could relax and really enjoy it. It was a lovely little chat and I was stoked they got such a nice reception. All three of those players feel so strongly connected to our club and I thought that came across really well.
The rest of the night whizzed by in a flash. The heavens had opened and it flattened my barnet but it certainly didn’t dampen our spirits. Seeing Paolo Di Canio and Sir Trevor Brooking under the spotlights and having the experience of speaking to them both on the pitch was an incredibly powerful feeling.
Introducing the Hammers of the Year, welcoming Slav, Nobes and the rest of the squad onto the stage, watching the best Upton Park moments on the big screens and seeing Bobby Moore turn the lights off forever. Mr Moon has left the stadium. It really hit home. We are never to return. As poignant as that moment was, as emotional as I felt, every hair was standing on end and it was truly one of the most incredible moments of my life. I feel extremely grateful to have been given that honour and I will never forget it.
Of course people have complained about the ceremony. It was over the top, it wasn’t enough. Too much to go into now. Safe to say a lot of time and effort went into the planning and the West Ham staff behind the scenes worked night and day to put on a good show. To me it was perfect.
What was more important than whether or not you liked the fireworks was the unity and togetherness of the players, staff and fans. There was a sincerity and depth of feeling that everyone inside that ground shared in complete and utter unison. It was a beautiful thing!
A few celebratory drinks in the players lounge post ceremony with a few of my idols and I have been walking on air ever since. I nearly reached the sky.
So we say goodbye. We move house and we move on. Most of us have accepted that now. Tony Carr put it best when he said to me in my Farewell Boleyn feature for Soccer Saturday that in the modern game change is inevitable. The Boleyn as a ground isn’t the same now anyway. From what it was when we used to go as kids the place is unrecognisable. The stands and surroundings have all been changed over the years, all that remains is what we as fans put into it. The essence of West Ham. He told me “it’s like Trigger’s broom with the different handles and heads…it looks like the same broom, but it’s not.” It’s time for a new chapter. It’s time for us to put our energy into our new home. It will be what we choose to make it. It’s time for a brand new broom. Maybe then we’ll really sweep up.
Come On You Irons!
B x
PS take a look at Sky Catch Up for all the coverage on Farewell Boleyn (including my Soccer Saturday piece). There’s some terrific features on there plus the closing ceremony in all its glory.
PPS there are still a few tickets left for the Knees Up Mother Brown live podcast in Tuesday 17th May. Our guests are Marlon Harewood and Anton Ferdinand. It’ll be a really fun night please join us. Tickets Here