Kiwis don’t queue. In most cities during the tour, fans have camped out for at least one night before each concert. In some cities fans have camped out two, three, or four nights. Before Gothenburg 1 last year, some teenagers celebrated the end of the school year by camping out for six nights. And there are those often repeated legends about fans in Brazil and Mexico who queue for years just to hear a U2 concert rumour. (My only previous experience of GA camping was when I stayed out overnight with the GA queue in Cardiff last year – and then didn’t even go to the gig.)
I’ve got an ongoing tradition, which began quite spontaneously back at Barcelona 1 last year, where I give a free copy of Me & U2 to the person who is first in the GA queue at each concert (when possible – I haven’t always been able to). So I’ve had the pleasure of meeting many of U2’s most dedicated, loopy-tunes fans. I’ve also become slightly familiar with the vagaries of the different GA queuing systems in different countries. In cities where there have been concerts on consecutive nights, it’s been common for some fans to begin queuing for the second gig before the first gig has finished (or started!), or for fans to leave before the end of the first concert to begin queuing for the second. Therefore I thought that I would be able to find a queue for the second Auckland concert after I left the first one. However, after Auckland 1 had finished, I walked around to where the GA queue had been earlier that day, but I couldn’t spot any fans queuing for Auckland 2.
I got back to Mount Smart Stadium around 10am the next day to find the shortest GA queue that I’ve seen on the day of a show. There were nine people in the line. I wasn’t too far from being first in the GA queue and having to give a free book to myself.
I didn’t originally plan to join the GA queue as I had bought a ticket for the cheap seats earlier that morning. Usually, I give GA queuer #1 a book, have my photo taken with them for the M&U Facebook page, and depart all those crazy fools in the line. But a very generous fan gave me a spare GA ticket that he had, so I was able to join the front of the queue, stay there, and experience a little bit of what many of my new U2 buddies go through on a regular basis.
It was quite an adrenalin rush.
It was a very short and a very relaxed line. There was no need for writing numbers on hands or making a list of names. By 2pm there were around 80 people in the line, sitting comfortably in groups in lots of space. Sitting in the queue was a major element of my enjoyment of the day; everyone was very friendly, and many strawberries, cookies and giggles were shared. I joined two guys from Interference (US Chris and NZ Dennis), and a few women from New Zealand (Meg, Heather, Jess and another whose name I’ve forgotten) at the front. There was also an Italian called Mirco (interestingly, the only other European I met that day). Of the nine people ahead of me in the queue, six of them wanted to go to the outer rail.
I had a big choice to make: front rail or outer rail. I wanted to see the concert with Chris and Dennis as I’d spent some time with them the day before, they were great guys, they were fellow Interferencers, and I had an additional self-interest in that they’d offered me a lift back to town after the show (my post-gig transport was still unresolved at this point). But they were going to go to the outer rail. I realised that this concert would be my only opportunity to get on the front rail on the whole tour. I’m far too lazy and impatient to queue for days, especially in a new city with much exploring to be done. I appreciated how easy I would have it at this concert as I’ve had the privilege to meet many nutjob fans who were used to waiting for two or three nights to get to the spot that I could hopefully get after waiting a mere six hours.
Another factor in my decision was my height. I think I hit around 6 foot 3 inches (1.88 metres) when I’m wearing my chunky tour shoes. If I was to stand at the rail in the front row, then I knew that I was going to block someone’s view, maybe many people’s views. I actually got to the second row on the outer rail at Dublin 2 last year, but I ended up six rows back, as shorter girls would continually doe-eye me into letting them go in front. It’s difficult to be a selfish lanky bastard with some sweet, innocent and short U2 fan pitifully sobbing behind you as their heart’s been sadistically broken because they can’t see Bono.
At 4:28pm I came to a decision. I would go to the front rail, centre, and I would become as selfishly lankily bastardly as I could be to keep that spot until after U2 had played One Tree Hill (which had been about ten songs into the gig the night before). Anyone shorter than me who chose to stand behind me would just have to do their best to see around me. I would inconsiderately immunize myself against the requests of any shorter, puppy-dog-eyed girls who desperately wanted to skip in front.
I also decided that I would have to go to the back of the field after Streets, because I would need to find a phone signal to sort out some transport back. It had been impossible to send or receive texts from within the pit the night before, and I had a long journey back to Amanda’s place (my Auckland host) to sort out.
So at 4:30pm, when security opened the gates, a plan had come together. I told Chris and Dennis that I was going to head for the front rail. I told Meg and her friend that I would like to join them at the front. I also told the girls how to get to the front, and then advised them to sit down when they’d got to the rail (as this is what fans did at other shows). This spiel must have either impressed them or confused them because they asked me to step in front of them in the queue and lead the way.
Other fans had told me many times before about how nervous they usually feel just before the GA gates open. I hadn’t quite appreciated what they meant until around 4:15pm on Friday. I felt the butterflies as soon as Jay Z’s soundcheck finished, and the fans behind us who had previously been seated, stood up and began to shuffle forward. Some fans behind me also commented on their nerves. We were like greyhounds on amphetamines in the traps before a race. People were jumpy; there was a anxious, jittery tension in the air. We were all about to enter a short dash, competing against other fellow frantic U2 fans for a prized spot on the front rail.
More burly security guards came over to the fence. They explained very calmly that they expected us to walk slowly behind them down the steps and across the field when they moved the fence to let us through. Then they moved the fence to let us through.
Charge!
I was on the left of the crowd walking behind the line of security down the steps onto the field. The stewards were continually telling fans to “Slow down! Take it easy! Slow down!”
At the bottom of the steps the stewards and the fans ahead of me all veered right to aim for the centre of the outer rail. I quickly took a sharp left to speed walk onto the athletics track that led straight to the entrance to the pit on Edge’s side. I could hear the security guys roaring “This way!” at me, ordering me to follow them onto the field. But I was aiming for the pit.
I was rebelliously leading the way, with hundreds of people behind me. Some fans behind me thought that they needed to go where the security were telling us to, and said that I was going the wrong way. However I knew the layout of the field too well for that. The shortest route to the front rail was this way.
“Keep walking!” I urgently told the people behind me. “Just keep walking!”
We speed walked along the athletics track. At the gates to the pit I was overtaken by Anna, a cute young Auckland girl who had been #1 in the GA queue the day before, and who I suspected had hopes to be taken up onstage by Bono that night. And then Mirco overtook me in the pit. So I was actually the third person to get to the rail.
Someone had told me earlier that I should aim for a spot slightly to the right of where Bono stands, as this spot offers the best views and photos of Bono, because he usually holds his microphone in his right hand and this can obscure photos taken from that side. So I plopped myself down on a spot a couple of feet to the right of the centre. Meg and her friend sat down next to me, like those who feel a touch of madness.
Charge over! Job done! Well done team! The front rail was grabbed!
. I think when I hear this song that I will always think of that moment.
