A DAY OUT AT WEMBLEY

Recently, tens of thousands of fans filled Wembley Stadium for the two Non-League Day cup finals. Some of them may have glanced at a memorial bust on display in the stadium’s lobby, perhaps without realising the incredible story behind it. This is the tale of a true working-class lad who defied the odds—football’s very own Roy of the Rovers story.

As you enter the lobby, you'll see a bronze bust labelled Arthur Elvin. But few people today recognise the name. Here was a young man who, from humble beginnings, seized the opportunities that came his way. He truly understood what opportunity meant—something many of us don’t fully grasp in our youth, often thinking, 'I’m not ready yet; another chance will come.' But opportunities don’t always come again, which is precisely why they’re so valuable.

Arthur Elvin’s journey began in 1924 when he was running a tobacco kiosk on the very site of Wembley. Just three years later, he bought the stadium. Without him, Wembley might never have become England’s national stadium. Here's how it all came to be.

Born and raised in a small terraced house in Norwich, Elvin left school at 14 and worked a series of odd jobs—including in a jam factory, a boot factory, a grocer’s, and with a wine merchant. He later moved to London to work for a soft-soap company. However, his progress was interrupted when World War I broke out. By spring 1918, he was serving in the Royal Air Force as an observer on reconnaissance flights.

In late June, just 10 days before his 19th birthday, Elvin’s plane was shot down. He spent the remainder of the war as a prisoner. As we recently commemorated 80 years since VE Day in World War II, it's important to remember the sacrifices made in the war before it as well.

After the war, Elvin took a job clearing military infrastructure in France. By 1924, however, he found himself unemployed. That was about to change dramatically. An ex-officers' association secured him a job at the British Empire Exhibition—a two-year propaganda showcase promoting the British Empire. The exhibition had led to the construction of pavilions and a new stadium in what had been parkland at Wembley.

Elvin was placed in charge of a tobacco kiosk, but one shop was never going to be enough for this natural entrepreneur. He seized his chance and gradually took over more kiosks. In an interview, he once said that he kept his shops open later than others—'and the money rolled in.'

When the exhibition ended, organisers were desperate to offload the buildings. Elvin, combining the profits from his kiosks and his prior demolition experience, secured contracts to dismantle many of the structures. Spotting an even bigger opportunity, he borrowed £122,500 (over £6 million in today’s money) from financier Jimmy White to purchase the stadium. Ever the opportunist, Elvin persuaded city investors to form a company with him at the helm, which bought the stadium from him. This not only repaid his debt but also earned him a tidy profit.

He became managing director of the company and ran Wembley Stadium from August 1927 for the next 30 years.

Today, Elvin is largely forgotten—except for that bronze bust in the lobby of the modern stadium. Yet his vision, drive, and courage laid the foundation for what Wembley would become. It’s thanks to him that football truly 'came home' in 1966. And thanks to his legacy, clubs at every level still dream of one day reaching this iconic venue.

As Steve, Colin from Romford, and everyone on the Essex Senior League committee will no doubt agree, Elvin’s vision gave us all cherished memories—like when the ESL had its very own day in the Wembley sunshine just a year ago.