I feel compelled to tell you about another scandalous access issue, this time in our nation’s capital on Sunday night (October 9).
Sunday was a fantastic day albeit with a slightly sad and annoying ending. We had tickets for the NFL game between the Green Bay Packers and the New York Giants at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. Saturday was my 47th birthday (I know…thanks) and we had been in High Wycombe. Why would you go there on your birthday? Well, Emma’s mum and dad live there and it would break the back of the journey and give us a chance to go out for a few beers and something to eat.
When we arrived at the Travelodge at Edmonton at around midday we thought we were too early to check in. Unperturbed by this I just asked if there was anywhere to store our luggage until we came back from the stadium. I was told there was not so we just left it in the car and headed off down towards the bus stop.
A 5 minute bus ride later we disembarked and headed for a great pub just 50 yards away from the stop called the Gilpin Bell. On the bus we met a couple of Los Angeles Chargers fans who claimed to have been at the Super Bowl a few years ago when the San Francisco 49ers met the Kansas City Chiefs. I’m a 49ers man myself so there was a high envy factor involved in this conversation. Emma didn’t get involved. She leaves talking to strangers to me. It is not quite clear how this couple scored tickets for one of the biggest sporting events in the world but you know what? The 49ers lost that game anyway. Small mercies and all that.
We had time at the Gilpin Bell for one and then on to investigate the Coach & Horses that Emma’s dad had told us about. He came here with a friend to watch Spurs play Fulham a few weeks ago. The Gilpin was much better, truth be told. Better access. You couldn’t actually get access to the indoor area of the Coach & Horses if you use a wheelchair so it is lucky that the weather was good and everybody was outside anyway. In there we met this Pittsburgh Steelers fan called Steve (he called me Steve too…why do people assume I’m a Steve? I’m no more a Steve than I am a Gillian). We later saw Steve on the big screen inside the stadium during the game. He seemed to be enjoying himself in a way that is very American. Frantic waving, excited smiles, all that. He was enjoying himself more than say…Roy Keane… who just shook his head in disgust when he was caught on the roaming camera at one point during the game.
It took a bit of time to get inside the stadium. Several Spurs staff members didn’t seem to know their way around their place of work. That happened to me in June but to be fair I’d had three months off during which time a complete refurbishment and restructure had taken place. I literally had to get the receptionist to show me to the office. Finally on this occasion we were saved by a passing employee who knew his job and were directed to the concourse.
At the bar the guy serving didn’t really know what I meant when I said I couldn’t drink draught beer. I can’t drink draught beer at the moment because if I do my stomach will explode but it didn’t seem right to explain that to him in detail. The only other lager they had in bottles was non alcoholic so I settled on cans of Guinness during the game.
Emma had draught lager but was not happy that the plastic glasses, which are filled from the bottom up, leaked from the bottom. Filling the glass from the bottom is alright for a gimmick the first time you see it, but when lager which costs about £7 a pint is being lost it veers into national disgrace territory.
Our view was pretty good, certainly compared to Old Trafford or the abomination that is Accrington Stanley. Where we were at Spurs it’s about the same height as my view at Saints but behind the sticks (or uprights in the NFL) rather than to one side. It was an enjoyable experience despite fans around us standing up a lot, constant interruptions from Sam Quek when the ball was dead and the fact that the Packers - that’s Emma’s team - managed to lose to the Giants.
They went down 27-22 with the Fucking Liar Aaron Rodgers playing like a total drain. We call the Green Bay quarterback that after the David Tennant/Michael Sheen joke in Staged. If you haven’t seen it, do. A classic of the ‘This Was Clearly Made In Lockdown’ genre. Rodgers missed a game or two last year because he was unvaccinated having hinted earlier that he had been ‘immunised’. It’s all a bit Novak Djokovic but in America Aaron gets away with it because he’s deified like John Lennon or Elvis. Or Mal Meninga in Parr.
We headed back to the Gilpin to watch the last half hour of Liverpool’s 3-2 loss at Arsenal and all of Everton’s 2-1 home defeat by Manchester United. Then we took in a bit of NFL Red Zone. For the initiated that is rolling highlights of all the games that go on at the same time on a Sunday rather than full live coverage of just one. The shirts mixed happily, united over an inexplicable love of NFL since the 1980s. Except the Cincinnati Bengals. Over the course of the day we saw every single NFL shirt on display by fans except for Bengals.
I even saw some poor soul in an old Washington Redskins shirt. They are not even called that now. The name was deemed offensive so they changed it to Washington Commanders. Having boxed off racism, next year they hope to address their culture of sexism and harassment of their cheerleaders. One thing at a time.
By the way I have no clue why nobody in that pub seemed to like the Bengals but it was slightly annoying not to see the full set of 32. If I could have done without one it would have been the newly named Commies. Or the Patriots. I’ve hated the Patriots since Trumpian Tom Brady turned up there about 20 years ago.
It was back at the Travelodge that things got really shitty. There was a disabled woman in front of me who seemed to be failing in her attempts to secure an accessible room until she told the receptionist that she was with The Chase. I wasn’t worried at this point because I knew our room had been booked in July by Emma’s mum. I was asked if I was with The Chase too and, naively knowing what I know now, admitted that I was not. I should have told her I was Mark Fucking Labett.
The woman won her argument and got her room. When it came to our turn we were not so lucky. We were told that their policy of over-booking meant that they were perfectly at liberty to give our accessible room away no matter when it had been booked. If I was a cynic I would say that the lady in front of me got hers because she was with The Chase.
I am a cynic so I am saying that. The big quiz show can’t be seen to be leaving it’s disabled contestants out on the street. I don’t know when her show goes out but I hope she loses in humiliating circumstances. She’s probably a Low Offer Wanker anyway. Looks the sort.
We had to settle for a regular room which didn’t have a wide enough bathroom for my wheelchair. The alternative was another Travelodge in Enfield. Neither of us could drive as we had been drinking. They offered a taxi but we did not want to be in a totally different town and then have to come back for the car in the morning. The main rationale for this was a beer fuelled ‘why should we?’ but I haven’t regretted it in the cold light of day since. I ended up pissing in the bin. I’m not sorry about that either. They’re just lucky my stomach didn’t explode.
In the morning we complained to the manager who backed up her staff. This confirmed to us that it is impossible for anyone to guarantee themselves a room at Edmonton Travelodge even if they book three months in advance. That’s one thing if you are able bodied - you still have a great chance of getting one of the 80 rooms in the establishment. It is quite another if you are disabled in which case your chances of getting one of the three accessible rooms are pretty thin.
Worse still, the manager had seen me at midday when I asked her about storing the luggage. She neglected to inform me that I could check in then although she must have known I intended to stay there. They have an early check-in service costing £10. That’s basically a tax on disability but I would have probably paid it had the overbooking policy been explained to me then. It was not on any of the correspondence for which they ‘could only apologise’. I’m still not apologising for the bin.
Furthermore, the girl on reception had told me that there were no other disabled toilets in the hotel other than those in the accessible rooms. This was misinformation on the Rodgers-Tennant Scale. We found one on our way out. Using it would have meant having to come downstairs for a wee - possibly in the middle of the night - but that would have been preferable to pissing in the bin. Ah well…it’s their bin and only I and the 12 people who read this will ever know.
All of this is a bit of a shame because it’s in a fantastic spot to get to what is probably the best stadium in the country. Including Crusader Park in Thatto Heath. I really want to go back either for the NFL or if - like this year - the Rugby League Challenge Cup Final ever finds itself back there.
Maybe there’ll be a Premier Inn within reach. The only problem I’ve ever had with them is Lenny Henry.
