GLASTO WAS A FOOTIE FEAST
This weekend I should have been at the 50th Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts, or Glasto’ as we call it. I have been lucky enough to work at every Festival since 1985. In the olden days I used to compere the Comedy Tent on Friday, Saturday and Sunday from 10.30am till 3.00pm. I’m too old for that game now, and for the last 12 years I’ve performed with the Stephen Frost Impro All Stars, in the Astrolabe Tent.
It is a highlight of every year. I love it. I have watched the event change. It was like a wild west town in the eighties. Gradually, as the fences became taller and stronger, there were less chancers and more of the middle classes. Nowadays, it is like a Center Parcs with bands on. Surprisingly, for a party with so much going on, the Festival has made time for football. Last year, for instance, the Lionesses were playing a World Cup quarter-final against Norway. They showed the game on the West Holts Stage. It was a warm Thursday evening before the music started up. We camped in the performers’ section behind the Cabaret Tent and found ourselves lying beneath the massive screen. We were sorted for local cider and roll ups. When Jill Scott scored 50,000 revellers went crazy.
I stood up, to stretch my legs and looked at the crowd. It was massive and there were waves of love from them sweeping towards the big screen. Then they showed a shot of the crowd at Glasto on the coverage and you couldn’t hear yourself think. They won 3-0 and everyone headed off to find a party.
Tension
In 2010 it was England v Germany in Blomfontein – a dreadful match at 3pm on a stuffy day. We lost 4-1. When Lampard’s shot bounced down over the line and out again it provoked some of the most colourful language I’d ever heard. Then one gut shouted that it was time to bring the dragon on! We all collapsed in heaps. God knows what he was on! But we had Faithless and Stevie Wonder to pick us up in the evening. In 2004, it was the England v Portugal quarter-final in the Euro’s. Rooney had a broken toe, but played. It was another Thursday night kick off, before the Festival had really started. It is the first time I can remember the football being shown on the big screens. They showed it either side of the
Pyramid Stage to about 60,000 people. It was 1-1 after 90 minutes. Extra time!
I just had time to run to the Cider Bus, to get a new pint of mixed. Two more goals in the extra half hour meant we were going to penalties. I have never felt tension like it from 60,000 ravers willing us to score. When Rui Costa missed, they apparently heard the cheer in Bristol! But Ricardo saved from Vassell and then scored the winning penalty himself and it was all over.
Petrified
Before 2004, the only way to watch a big game during the Festival was to find a TV in one of the backstage green rooms, provided by a footie-loving techie. In ‘92 the Euro’s were held in Sweden. I had flown over on my birthday to watch the Holland v Germany game in Gothenburg.
I caught the ferry early on the day of the match to see the sights. But as I walked along the Forsta Langgatan I realised that there was chanting behind me. I looked back to see about 200 Dutch fans in their bright orange shirts.
They didn’t seem their normal jolly selves so I turned back to see why. There were 200 German fans coming the other way!
I was trapped in the middle of what was obviously going to be a fight. I backed myself against a glass door petrified. As the two gangs charged a hand came out through the door, grabbed the scruff of my neck and dragged me into a hotel lobby. I’d been saved by a Daily Mirror journo, who had recognised me. That evening, I saw a tremendous match, Gullit, Rijkaard, Van Basten and Dennis Bergkamp tore the Germans apart 3-1. But both sides went through from the group. Somehow the Germans made it to the final, against Denmark.
For that, I found a tent in the shopping village on site. At the far end was a TV showing the game, We all piled in sitting on the floor. We couldn’t believe our luck. Most of us were cheering for the Danes, who weren’t even meant to be there, but Yugoslavia had pulled out. At half-time, Denmark were leading 1-0. The ref blew his whistle, and a man at the front of the tent leapt to his feet and turned the telly off.
He then turned to the watching crowd and said:- “I’d like to talk to you about Jesus.” Well. I’ve never seen a tent empty so fast!
Eventually he allowed us back in to watch the second half and Denmark’s 2-0 win.