The Curtain Call at Blackpool's Stadium Hotel
Michael Butler gazes across the Bloomfield Road pitch before the game commences, a scene captured in a photograph by Christopher Thomond for The Guardian. This image sets the stage for a peculiar situation unfolding at the Blackpool Football Club Stadium Hotel, where the promise of a pitch view comes with a significant caveat.
A Room With a View, But Not During the Match
It seems entirely logical that anyone reserving a Superior Room with Pitch View at the Blackpool Football Club Stadium Hotel, situated within the Bloomfield Road Stadium, would anticipate a hotel room overlooking the pitch. This expectation is met, except – quite bizarrely – when Blackpool are actually playing. Recent hotel guests have discovered they are thwarted by the smallest of fine print when booking: Due to the EFL rules and regulations, bedroom curtains have to be kept drawn throughout a match. Failure to comply could result in a substantial £2,500 fine, a penalty that certainly stings.
Over my fourteen years working for The Guardian, there have been moments, perhaps after a particularly demanding shift, where I have felt tempted to retreat to a dark room. I never imagined this could become an actual journalistic assignment. Nevertheless, I embarked on a journey to Blackpool to investigate this unique form of 3pm blackout. Shortly before kick-off between Blackpool and their League One relegation rivals Northampton, I found myself pulling a remarkably heavy curtain across a panoramic window that faces the Bloomfield Road pitch and the iconic Blackpool Tower beyond. With that action, my daylight for the day was effectively extinguished.
Listening to the Game From Behind the Curtain
In a somewhat cruel twist, beyond the sealed window, I could hear the fans filing in to take their seats. The atmosphere steadily built, and I sat on my bed, imagining what it might be like to watch Blackpool and Northern Ireland goalkeeper Bailey Peacock-Farrell launch a long ball into the winter sky. I heard the whistle for kick-off and, shortly after, the sound of fans celebrating an early goal, almost certainly for the home side.
It was not entirely without its perks. One advantage of my hotel room was the complimentary wifi, enabling me to check the scorer: Blackpool's Zac Ashworth. Further updates via local radio were sparse, but from behind the curtain and glass, it was informative to listen to a man providing a subjective synopsis of the referee's first-half performance, which apparently left considerable room for improvement. The brief sound of Northampton fans taunting home supporters with the chant of how shit must you be? It's only 1-0 brought a smile to my face. One thing I did have over the crowd was my own en-suite bathroom, which also lacked a view of the pitch but did offer a selection of complimentary soaps. Score one for the hotel guest, nil for the pitch-viewing supporter.
The Second Half and a Wearing Novelty
The remainder of the first half passed serenely, from what I could gather, save for a few roars from the crowd. Half-time proved an audible treat, however, with raffle winners and happy birthday messages for fans announced over the stadium tannoy. What an exhilarating rush.
After a bit of initial excitement in the second half – was that a penalty appeal? It certainly sounded like one! – the novelty of sitting in a windowless room began to wear thin. With thirty minutes remaining, I checked the corridor, but unfortunately, no nearby laundry basket was available for me to smuggle myself into the actual hospitality area. Returning to the room, I began to realise this was not the high-octane assignment my editors had portrayed; it felt less like sports journalism and more like an experiment on the human condition. Perhaps I should simply wander downstairs and purchase a ticket? No, I resolved to stick to the assignment. There were radio updates of the match, a kettle and teabags in the wardrobe. Plus, Escape to the Country had just started on BBC Two on my generously sized television. Now I understood how the VAR officials at Stockley Park must live.
The Roots of an Absurd Situation
Setting bad jokes aside, this situation feels entirely avoidable for all parties involved. There appear to be two primary reasons for this absurd scenario. The first, not unreasonably, is that EFL rules stipulate that everyone in view of a pitch must possess a ticket. It is simply unfortunate that nobody at Blackpool or at this particular Radisson hotel has had the foresight to sell a matchday ticket alongside the hotel room. That seems like a straightforward solution.
Possibly the more significant problem is alcohol. The Sporting Events Act 1985 prohibits the consumption of alcohol within view of the pitch in the Premier League, Football League, and National League. My minibar had been removed, but Blackpool have determined there is no effective way to prevent people from circumventing that rule by bringing alcohol into a hotel room, leading them to discard the baby with the bathwater. Other Radisson hotels inside football stadiums, such as at Bolton Wanderers, offer matchday packages where stewards reportedly check hotel guests for alcohol as they would regular supporters. Clearly, this is not the practice in Blackpool.
Calls for Reform and Future Prospects
Recently, there have been growing calls to reform the forty-year-old alcohol legislation surrounding football, which was drafted in the 1980s when hooliganism was rampant in the English game. Labour MP Luke Charters has advocated for a trial period, an idea welcomed by the Football Supporters' Association. Any change in the law is ultimately a decision for the government, but The Guardian understands that the EFL would be receptive to discussions about permitting alcohol within view of the pitch and would be happy to contribute to any pilot scheme aimed at lifting these rules.
Many view the blanket ban on alcohol as disproportionate, especially at matches categorised as low-risk, where supporters might reasonably expect to be treated as they would for any other sports event or leisure activity. However, until those rules are amended, or at least until Blackpool's hotel devises a workaround, the curtains will continue to be drawn shut.
A decade ago, David Moyes, then manager of Sunderland, admitted that after a defeat, he often liked to spend his Saturday night in a darkened room. Despite Blackpool's 2-0 victory, my trip to the seaside town felt somewhat like a defeat. Thank goodness, then, that I had a nice, dark place to lay my head and reflect on the peculiarities of football regulations and hospitality.
