Miranda Fritsch, bullhorn in hand, eagerly shouted out the directions:
“Gates 1 and 2 to your right; Gate 3 to your left,” she said.
She was 100 feet from an entrance she’ll never go through — a short walk from a Fan Festival she won’t visit. And within eyesight of a stadium hosting matches she’ll never see.
She’s not getting paid. But she was happy.
“I like big events and I like to help people,” she told BINJE, hours before France took on Sweden at MetLife Stadium Tuesday afternoon.
Fritsch is one of the approximately 7,500 volunteers that will work at the stadium during the eight World Cup matches. Each was assigned a different area or job. Each was given the same uniform (four shirts, one pair of shorts, one pair of sweatpants, one pair of socks and one pair of shoes).
And each became part of a unique system where all things were not equal.
Starting with the pay.
Not every role outside of MetLife Stadium was unpaid. That contrast played out differently in the more than 90-degree temperatures.
***
The folks in the chairs around the perimeter — seated 50-100 feet from each other — were private security. And they were getting paid.
“Enough,” said one — among the handful we talked to, even though they had been told not to talk.
They also were working longer hours. While the volunteers we spoke to were doing 4- to 6-hour shifts (think pre-match and post-match), security was there for the day.
Arrival time, one said, was 10 a.m. for 5 p.m. match. They would be there until 9 p.m., one estimated. It depends on whether the match goes to extra time (this one did not).
Only one thing was certain: The job was boring. And lonely.
That’s why they brought chairs, umbrellas, coolers, phones — and chargers. Anything to pass the time at an event that already was swarming with uniformed officers.
They were just one more line of protection, hundreds of more sets of eyes.
“We’re just supposed to watch and tell someone if we see something that doesn’t look right,” one said.
The person, who has worked private security for more than a decade, said they didn’t mind that they wouldn’t get to go inside.
“I’ve done enough big events to know it’s no big deal,” they said.
***
The volunteers brought a fresh (and less jaded) perspective. They were excited to be part of a once-in-a-lifetime event. So eager, in fact, that some said they didn’t necessarily understand the limitations of their participation.
Most were there to simply hold up signs that directed people to gates, to transit, to American Dream — one simply said “shorter lines” with an arrow.
The ‘fun’ jobs came with foam fingers.
And while only a few came with shade, that wasn’t the biggest complaint.
They didn’t mind working as a volunteer, they just wished the travel stipend was higher and they got food.
More than anything, they just wanted greater access to the event — at least that’s what those who were stationed outside the perimeter said.
“I just wish we could walk in for just 10 minutes,” one said.
“I wish we could do different jobs,” another said. “I would love to be at the FanFest for just one day.”
Those inside the gates did not have it as great as those outside imagined.
Press box volunteers got air conditioning and were just a few feet from the action — but it was action they wouldn’t see.
They were faced away from the action, endlessly scanning badges. They could only hear the action.
***
Let’s be clear: The volunteers knew this was an unpaid role. It’s a fact of business that major events that take in hundreds of millions in revenues rely heavily on unpaid help.
And don’t be confused: There was not an uprising to change this among the dozen or so we talked to.
They just wanted a little more.
Most were not as lucky as Fritsch.
She lives in New Rochelle, New York — the same hometown as another volunteer, Luiz Ruiz. The two met for the first time at the stadium and began working together. They hope their friendship will last longer than the 39-day event.
You already could see them working together.
While Fritsch was manning the bullhorn, Ruiz was answering the same questions … over and over again:
Can we get food or merch in the parking lot? No.
What is American Dream? It’s a megamall and you can get to it by taking the pedestrian bridge.
How do we get in? Umm, turn around, you’re literally a few steps from the entrance.
***
As we were getting ready to leave, Fritsch and Ruiz got their big reward. A fan walked over with a set of car keys for an Audi they had found on the lot.
“I guess I’m getting a new car out of this,” Fritsch joked.
She then reached out to a supervisor.
The guess is some stressed-out fan eventually got their keys back — an incredibly happy ending to a nightmare scenario.
The guess is they have no idea an unpaid volunteer saved the day.
The guess is that Fritsch would have happily accepted a tip from that Audi owner.
But that wasn’t what this was all about. Fritsch wasn’t here for the money. She was happy just being a part of the world’s biggest event.
“This is an incredible experience,” she said.
