Here’s the thing: every view at Wembley is a gamble. You might get the perfect angle, or you might spend 90 minutes staring at a pillar shaped like a retired footballer’s ego. But it doesn’t matter.
Because when 90,000 people sing the same song, it doesn’t matter if you’re sitting in the front row or in the stratosphere. The shared, silly, emotional noise is the real view. It’s like a giant, sweaty, loud hug from a city you don’t even live in.
So next time you’re stuck behind a pillar, just nod. Remember the mustard incident. And know that somewhere, someone in Club Wembley is also missing the goal because they’re trying to get the waiter’s attention for a second pint. That’s the view from my seat. And honestly? It’s perfect.
