Warming-Up in the Desert /  by Simon Mooney

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On Friday I photographed a friend’s wedding in Dubai on the shores of the Persian Gulf. The day after, the celebrations were to continue in an executive box at the Emirates Rugby Sevens tournament just outside the city and they kindly invited me along.

Being neither much of a rugby fan, or particularly sociable when it comes to corporate hospitality, I applied for a photographers pass before leaving the UK and packed my 600mm as well as my suncream with the intention of watching the action through the lens pitchside.

The wedding day was a long one and my phone pedometer reckoned I’d walked 13 miles. Much of this was desperately trying to find angles where the two video cameramen weren’t in shot. I eventually got to bed at 3am on the Saturday morning and my alarm went off almost immediately four and half hours later. The photo pass for the rugby now seemed like a very bad idea but I was committed so off I went.

As soon as I got into the stadium and dropped my bags behind the goals I was hemmed in by the Canadian team which had just come out for the warm-up. The players were enormous, intense and impressive in the light and heat and a different proposition to the footballers I’m used to seeing at such close quarters. Over the next few hours, I mostly had my back to the match action and concentrated instead on the details of the other teams’ preparations for the short, sharp 14 minute games coming thick and fast.

Rush Hour at Liverpool Street /  by Simon Mooney

Cheviot House, Whitechapel /  by Simon Mooney

This morning I turned a corner and was stopped in my tracks by the magnificent Cheviot House. I saw it from a distance for the first time last week and, once again, it was making the most of a weak winter sun. The night before, I'd been struggling to find much quality in the gigantic but brittle-looking City skyline a mile to the west, other than its sheer scale and The Gherkin.

Built for Kornberg & Segal textile merchants in 1937, Cheviot House sadly appears to stand empty after serving the local council for over 50 years. Demolition for new housing has been threatened but more positive proposals for community use have also been made. If it no longer has real value as commercial space, it could make wonderful social housing which is desperately needed in the area.

This article from the East London Advertiser is the most recent I can find on the current situation but I'd like to know more. I'm hoping the recently established East End Preservation Society (which I photographed at its launch) will have an interest so those of us who value a building like this can contribute to decisions on its future.

My First England Game /  by Simon Mooney

On 29 May England drew 1-1 with the Republic of Ireland at Wembley. The newspapers remembered how the last meeting in Dublin 18 years ago was abandoned when England fans rioted.

Back in February 1995 I was just starting as a sports photographer and had done a few jobs for Empics, the Nottingham photo agency. I had a meeting there with Ross Kinnaird just before the Dublin game and heard which hotel they'd be staying in so booked myself into the same one.

It was the first time I'd shot the national team. I'd managed to get a photo pass from Andy Oldknow at The FA who we worked with as the governing body became more commercial.

On the night of the game, I met the Empics photographers Ross and Steve Morton as they were preparing to leave the hotel. I said I'd give them anything interesting I shot.

After nearly half an hour of the game, I had almost nothing and couldn't believe how dark it was. My international debut had started badly. Then the Irish scored and it went seriously wrong. Fans were coming onto the pitch as the players left it, objects were being thrown from the top of a stand and police and stewards moved in. The game stopped and confusion started. A photographer was seriously injured by a missile and some of us packed up. Others focused their long lenses on the crowd and some moved onto the pitch towards the fans, police and stewards.

I hardly remember taking my best picture. These days I would have seen it on the camera's LCD but back then I was shooting film. Scuffles flared up and I shot a few frames of one in particular with my wide lens. I bumped into Nick, the Empics technician processing the film, and gave him the roll I'd just shot.

It took ages to get back to the hotel but when I did, Ross told me he thought I might have got a big picture which had been wired with a few others. The neg was thin (I'd forgotten to tell Nick I'd uprated the film) but it was a good frame of three England fans attacking a steward in front of a Union Flag. I was so relieved it was sharp.

I woke up next morning and put the television on. The riot at Lansdowne Road was headline news and, as the papers were reviewed, my picture was on the front page of nine out of ten of the UK nationals.

A Dublin landlady had also seen the newspapers and called the police - the three fans were asleep upstairs in her guesthouse. They were arrested and convicted with the story continuing for a couple of days in the tabloids.

At least one of the men I photographed said it had ruined his life. I only hope it was a temporary, if very public, low point.