I am not a fan of football stewards, and in many cases they often cause trouble that otherwise would not have been there. However today the stewarding at Chelsea was good, almost invisible and appropriate. End of story. What caught me eye though was the head gear worn by one steward who looked more like he should be with Bear Grylls out on an arctic expedition, rather than in the sunshine of Stamford Bridge. But my question is this. Could he actually hear and see anything? 
One of the crazy things in football is how Chelsea can be European champions, and even crazier thing is how one week Brentford can effectively beat Chelsea and then lose comprehensively to Yoevil Town.
To be positive a visit to Yoevil is always pleasant, the roads lead straight there, car park right next to the away terrace for a mere 2£, decent programme, but Bees always seem to lose and never seem to have much luck. Essentially, that was the pattern from yesterday, and after Bees missed a few chances, the writing was on the wall. A lucky rebound for a first goal for Yoevil, a stunning volley for a second and a decent third. Brentford to me played the wrong team from the start with the wrong tactics with the wrong attitude. The pitch before the game looked good, but as soon as the game started it was clear it was a pudding of a pitch. Bees were well beaten, and frankly beaten on merit, effort and luck. Marek Stech the Yoevil keeper looked as good as I have seen this year, other than our own Simon Moore.
The importance of stewards at football is renowned. I feel so safe when I see the stewards, well trained in social and administration skills, and clearly combat at times too. However clearly those of a Divine nature have the same opinion as evidenced by a single ray of sunshine onto this Steward at Yoevil Football club yesterday.
What would we do without stewards? I must thank the ones yesterday for frisking me so thoroughly to ensure that I was not carrying in items such as plutonium or other radioactive substances, or maybe Semtex cleverly disguised as a football programme, or even a dreaded water bottle. Such attention to the important things in life makes me forgive them for not knowing where such unimportant things are such as gents toilets, refreshment kiosk or why they were attempting to cram a large cohort of Brentford fans into only half the terracing initially. Luckily I engaged them in some counting of numbers activities that extended beyond binary, and all said terracing was then opened. But feel free to suggest what they might have been searching me for?
chris1957
Arcticterntalk.org 