"Hello," I said with a smile.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm alright. You?"

"Yeah. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed it is."

"Let's hope it stays that way."

"I hope so too."

He smiled, I smiled, then he nodded and walked towards his seat.

I wondered what would be the response if I said I was not alright. I should try it.

The lady that came after him avoided eye contact, gave a polite smile and walked on by.

I never really understood the term “polite smile" until I got here. I’ve come to define it as a smile ladies give when they don’t want to return a greeting, or what they do when they feel obliged to respond without talking.

"Hello," I said.

"You good?" He asked.

"I'm always good. You?"

"I'm good too. I like the energy."

"Thank you. It's from the Sun."

"Black Panther, huh?"

We laughed, fist bumped, and he walked to his seat.

The land of small talk. You are either alright, or you good.

I smiled at the next person. She smiled back.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, my seat number is AA 181."

"That's up this stairs to my left."

"Okay," she replied looking a little confused.

"Or do you want me to show you?"

"I would appreciate that."

She followed closely behind as I climbed the stair. We got to the row AA and I moved aside for her to pass.

"Thank you," she said with smile.

"You are welcome."

I jogged back down to take up my position at the vomitory. After leading six different people up the stairs to their row, I realized that unlike Captain America, I can't do this all day.

"Hello."

"You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You?"

He nodded. "Why are they watering the pitch?"

"Sorry, I didn't get that."

"It rained in the morning, why are they watering the pitch?"

"Well, someone's got to get paid."

"Yeah, that's right."

He smiled, I smiled, he patted my shoulder, and moved along.

It was about 10 minutes to kick off. The stadium was not full yet. But that was not surprising. Most people usually spend more time at the kiosk and corridors, eating and drinking. Then they rush up the stairs just before kick off. And when I said drinking, beer is top of the list. Water is to fish, as beer is to the people here.

I moved forward and intercepted a man climbing up the stairs with two big plastic cipss filled with beer.

"No beer allowed in the stands."

"Oh, okay." He turned and walked back down the stairs.

He knew I knew that I knew he knew he was not supposed to bring beer to the stands. But that never stopped most people from trying their luck.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi. Is there a designated area for smoking?"

"Yeah, down these stairs to your right."

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

A minute to kick off and people came rushing up the stairs to their seats

The match started.

I picked up a spot, made sure I wasn’t obstructing anyone’s view, leaned on the wall and watched the game.

At intervals I surveyed the stands and made sure the stairs were clear.

I saw smoke rise from some sections. It was from people that were vaping. I approached a few and motioned to them to stop. They smiled, nodded and pocketed the vape.

We both knew that as soon as I turned my back, the smoke will rise again.

Truth be told, dem dey smoke shege for this land o!

I get it that it probably helps with the cold. However, the high number of young kids I've seen vaping is worrisome. But then, if them own no see anything wrong with it, wetin come concern me wey be foreigner.

Signed

Olumide Holloway (King Olulu)