Twelve months. Dozens of shows. Hundreds of thousands of footsteps.
2025 wasn’t just a year — it was a rhythm. A cycle of lights, laughter, music, and quiet nights spent cleaning the echoes of it all away.
From the very first shift in January to the final Cirque show in December, Leeds Arena became more than just a workplace. It became a timeline of moments — each event, song, and shift forming part of a year that was as unpredictable as it was unforgettable.
The Year That Started with Glitter and Glittered All Year
January kicked things off in full sparkle with the BBC Strictly Come Dancing Live Tour. Sequins, spray tan, and a tidal wave of applause set the tone for the months ahead.
Even when the music stopped, the arena shimmered like it still had energy to burn.
By February, the lights dimmed to something heavier — one night that will stick forever: Pantera, February 19th.
#1 – Pantera (February 19th) — The Night That Stuck
I didn’t work the show itself — I worked after. My brother had been there, part of the roaring crowd, and by the time the house lights went up and he left, I came in.
The air was thick with feedback and sweat and that unmistakable hum that follows a metal gig. It’s hard to describe, but it’s something you feel through your boots.
That night, I found a Pantera guitar pick on the stage floor — small, black, and full of memory. I kept it. It’s now in a special place alongside the Bryan Adams pick I found later in the year. Two completely different artists, but both moments mean the same thing: a connection.
Pantera wasn’t just another event. It was the one that made 2025 personal.
My brother and I, one leaving the crowd, one entering the clean-up. Same place, same night — different worlds, same memory.
Because I met Zakk Wylde, and who can say they met a legend like that while casually standing outside at 2 a.m. talking to their boss? I can.
Spring – The Season of Everything
April came like a burst of noise and colour: Jeff Wayne’s The War of the Worlds, Sugababes, Europe’s Strongest Man, Sean Paul, and even the Harlem Globetrotters.
Every night felt different — family crowds one day, pyros and sweat the next.
May kept that pace going with Clubland, Bryan Adams, and a full 12-hour Sky Sports Darts shift, where I learned my first lesson about how broadcasting works behind the scenes — those three-minute ad breaks became gold for bin swaps and floor resets.
June, though, brought everything to a halt.
A bike crash, a fractured elbow, and weeks of recovery meant no shifts, no noise, no lights. But it also brought perspective.
Summer – Recovery, Reflection, and Return
By July, I was finally back. Still sore, but determined.
Leeds Beckett University Graduations were the perfect way to ease in — calm, quiet, structured. Then came TRANSFORMERS25, a huge youth Christian event that closed the month with energy and hope.
August was slower — just three shifts: the final day of TRANSFORMERS25, a Paw Patrol Live show, and WWE Live to finish.
Small but solid steps back to full rhythm.
Autumn – The Noise Returns
September brought a mix of energy — Tom Grennan, Simply Red, and McFly vs. Busted, though I missed the second night through sickness.
The Great British Pub of the Year Awards and a Digital Careers Fair added a corporate twist, showing once again how flexible the arena can be.
October slowed the pace again but stayed bright with John Bishop’s 25 Years Tour and Marti Pellow’s Love Is All Around.
After months of movement, it was a breather — a gentle reminder that even quiet months matter.
November hit full swing again: Peter Kay, Bob Dylan, JLS, Hans Zimmer, Mumford & Sons, and more.
Comedy, classics, and chaos — all rolled into one.
But my personal favourite of that month?
Hans Zimmer. Hearing Pirates of the Caribbean echo through the empty arena long after the crowd left was something special.
Winter – Lights, Broadcasts, and Goodbyes
Then came December — the final stretch.
Private Christmas parties for Jet2 and the Arena staff, music nights with Wolf Alice, D-Block Europe, Pete Tong, Madness, and Jools Holland, and a round of laughter with Jimmy Carr.
But the one that stood out wasn’t just fun — it was technical.
December 20th, BBC Boxing Night, broadcast live on BBC Three and iPlayer.
That shift was unlike any other.
Working a live TV broadcast meant no ad breaks, no second chances. You had to be invisible but efficient — always just outside the camera’s view.
I wore a hard baseball cap the whole night, not just for the uniform, but for safety — those overhead wire cameras and jib cranes can swing fast and unpredictably.
To stay one step ahead, I listened to the audio feed of the live broadcast through an earpiece. Hearing the pundits say “We’re taking a break, see you in three” was my signal to move — three minutes to sweep, empty bins, change bags, and vanish before the red lights came back on.
On a normal night, you might be left to work alone and at your own pace. But on a live broadcast, every second matters.
When new starters join me for their first broadcast event, they don’t believe me when I say, “We only get three minutes to clear the stage before we’re live again.”
Then they see me moving across the floor with purpose — bags in hand, clock ticking — and they finally get it. It’s organised chaos at its finest.
The year finished on December 29th and 30th with Cirque – Wizard of Oz — a bright, theatrical close to a year that had everything: music, mayhem, and moments of magic.
A Year in Numbers
🧹 56 shifts worked
⏱️ 24,000 minutes cleaned (including one 12-hour Sky Sports shift)
🎶 Over 40 different shows and events
🏆 1 broken elbow, 2 guitar picks, countless stories
Final Thoughts
2025 was more than just a year of shifts — it was a year of moments.
From standing under confetti at 2 a.m. to dodging live TV cameras, from missing a month through injury to coming back stronger — it’s been one long, messy, brilliant ride.
And if I had to pick just one moment?
February 19th — Pantera.
My brother walking out as I walked in. A single night, shared in two completely different ways.
That’s the one that’ll always stay with me.
Here’s to 2026 — new shows, new shifts, and a few more stories waiting to be swept up.
🎤 2025 work: mic drop, over and out. Let’s see what 2026 brings.