Many who grew up around a football, a cage or a wall with chalk goal drawn on will know exactly what Gundeep Anand means. Before football becomes a sport, it is a game you inherit, invent and endlessly renegotiate.
There is kerby, where the aim is to strike the sweet spot of a kerb and make the ball ping straight back to you. Heads and volleys, known by countless other names, where you’re all on the same team against a revolving goalkeeper. There’s One-bounce, One-touch, and World Cup: an all-versus-all competition played into a single goal, often in pairs and usually making the most of whatever limited space is available.
The rules vary between streets, estates, schools and generations. They are argued over, abandoned and rewritten as required. This is football before it can be licensed by a corporation or governed—often questionably—by a Swiss man with a name like a Bond villain. Its essence is expression: a ball, a few friends or even strangers, and enough daylight to keep playing.
Gundeep’s own memories begin around West London, playing kerby and staying outside until sunset became the only timekeeping that mattered. He later worked as a youth worker and football coach, taking young people from one estate to another and seeing how a game could soften hostility between communities. Before becoming a director and working in advertising, that experience showed him football’s ability to create encounters that might otherwise never happen.
It also laid the foundations for The Last Stand, the street-football tournament he has now run for a decade. Combining competition with filmmaking, design and storytelling, the platform has created pathways into football, modelling, presenting and production. Its latest season took men’s and women’s teams from London to face New York, with equal prize money across both competitions, while milestones along the way include a return to the London court where it all began – under Trellick Tower – to resurface the pitch for the next generation.
For Gundeep, the value of street football cannot be reduced to the professionals or careers it produces. At a time when young people spend much of their lives being instructed where to go, what to do and how to behave, the street offers something increasingly rare: room to improvise, adapt and reveal who they are.
That freedom is visible in the character of the players, the culture surrounding The Last Stand and the imagery, photographed by SUEDE, is now being carried back onto the street through its collaboration with UNCLE.
We spoke with Gundeep about childhood freedom, football as a space for expression, the importance of youth provision, creating opportunities beyond the professional game and the unfinished business between London and New York.
Oh, it’s a big ask. I don’t know where to start. I grew up in and around West London, mainly Southall and those sorts of areas. I went to school in Richmond and then to university in Brighton. I was a mechanical engineer before I ended up in advertising, and before that I did a lot of community work.
I decided I wanted to become a director and work with different brands. Then I paired the impact I used to have through sport with my passion for communities and what I could do with a camera. That’s how I ended up with The Last Stand, really.
For anybody encountering it for the first time, how would you introduce The Last Stand in your own words?
The Last Stand is a street-football tournament that unites communities and breaks down social barriers. It has evolved into a culture-led competition and platform combining live events, content and talent pathways.
At its core, it’s a tournament we deploy across cities, powered by culture and storytelling. I’d been running it for ten years, but we brought it back for this new season with London versus New York. It was nuts. I’ve never experienced anything like it.
WHAT ARE YOUR EARLIEST MEMORIES OF PLAYING FOOTBALL? WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER ABOUT THE PLACES AND PEOPLE YOU PLAYED WITH?
I remember being young and playing ‘kerby’ with my friends. I also remember the first time Arsenal reached the Champions League final. Me and my friend used to follow the team buses wherever it went; I remember Villarreal coming to Highbury in 2006.
But in terms of playing, it was just being with your friends and playing late at night. I didn’t have a watch, so it was very simple: you played for as long as the sun was out. As soon as the sun went down, you needed to be in the house. They were sick times, man.
That’s where I started. We used to take kids from one estate to another, at a time when knife crime was a big thing. During those tournaments, you could see the hostility reduce. They were like, “Why am I trying to kill you? I played football with you last week.”
That’s where I first saw the power of the sport and how it can unite people. It doesn’t solve knife crime completely, but it can have an impact for sure.
I did that for a long time in primary schools, nurseries and communities around Shepherd’s Bush, Acton, Hammersmith, Fulham and Ladbroke Grove, mainly teaching futsal and handball. I volunteered a lot with an organisation called Active Planet, and that’s where I picked up many of these things.
AT A TIME WHEN YOUTH CLUBS AND SERVICES ARE CHRONICALLY UNDERFUNDED, WHY IS YOUTH PROVISION SO IMPORTANT—AND WHAT MAKES FOOTBALL SUCH A POWERFUL OUTLET FOR THAT WORK?
Street football is the most accessible form of football. You don’t need to buy anything special. It’s just a ball, and you can play in your trainers, jeans, whatever. That’s important because things are getting very expensive. Football in this country brings people together. It brings joy.
Street football is also about expression. Every day, there are more rules and human expression is slowly being taken away. Young people are constantly being told what to do, from the minute they wake up to the minute they go to sleep. Schools tell them exactly what to do, how to do it and where to do it. When they get home, their parents tell them what to do. There’s no time when they can actually express themselves—and expression is the beginning of progress for the human mind.
Young people need a safe place to express themselves. Youth clubs were those places initially. I remember paying 50p to go in—and sometimes they would let you off. You could play PlayStation, use a recording studio, play basketball, FIFA or pool. You’d think, “This is where I want to be.” Not everyone is trying to be a footballer.
LONDON HAS PRODUCED PLAYERS LIKE JADON SANCHO, EBERECHI EZE, JOE GOMEZ, RAHEEM STERLING AND RIO FERDINAND, WHOSE GAMES WERE SHAPED BY ESTATES, CAGES AND GRASSROOTS FOOTBALL. WHAT DOES THE STREET PUT INTO A PLAYER THAT REMAINS VISIBLE AT THE HIGHEST LEVEL?
Definitely character. It’s very character-building because it isn’t perfect. The conditions you’re playing in aren’t perfect and the environments aren’t perfect, so you have to adapt and mould. It shapes you and makes you something that other environments won’t.
It gives you that little bit of grit and that little edge. When you step into those higher-profile environments, you stand out because of what those tough backgrounds have made you. As they say, pressure makes diamonds.
Look, man, I’m not sitting here saying that we’re a charity. What we can do is provide opportunities and share the pathways that come our way.
Some of the young people have modelled for Nike, Puma and Adidas, with their faces all over Oxford Street. Some have signed brand deals or had football trials, even though that isn’t what we aim for. Others have found jobs in front of and behind the camera. One became a producer for Chelsea. Others have worked with Neymar or appeared in UEFA Champions League and Nike campaigns.
I ended up working with the Mayor of London on projects for the Euros. Before that, I worked on FIFA as a story editor, including its story mode. We put one of our presenters into the game as the voice of the streets, so 30 million players were hearing him.
The whole thing is that when you’re together, anything is possible. It isn’t easy, but with unity, many things are possible. Have a clean heart and create something that moves the needle or makes a difference; I think the rest takes care of itself.
You can have big ambitions, but you’re dealing with governments, partners, brands, local authorities, players, people’s emotions, logistics, production, PR and marketing. If you’re ready for it, it’s there for everyone. There’s enough for everyone. But does a normal person want to do all of this? No.
RACE, CLASS AND GENDER CAN ALL INFLUENCE WHO GETS TO PLAY FOOTBALL, WHO FEELS WELCOME AND WHO RECEIVES OPPORTUNITIES. HOW HAS THE LAST STAND TRIED TO CHALLENGE THOSE INEQUALITIES?
For us, the starting point was making everything equal. We launched what we described as the UK’s first women’s street-football tournament in 2021, and at every tournament we’ve done, the prize money has been equal. It isn’t more for the men and less for the women.
It’s also about opportunities and access. We didn’t only take a men’s team to New York; we took a women’s team too, and again the prize money was equal. Those are our first steps. There are many more we can take to create a better platform. We’re trying to improve, learn and partner with people who are better than us in this space.
I always ask: “What’s our contribution?” This is our contribution, and we can definitely contribute more.
COMMUNITY RESPONSIBILITY HAS ALWAYS SEEMED CENTRAL TO THE LAST STAND. WHAT SHOULD A PROJECT LEAVE BEHIND ONCE THE TOURNAMENT, CAMERAS AND SPONSORS HAVE GONE?
I started on that same pitch ten years ago, so to go back ten years later and fix it—to resurface it and make it safe and playable—was something big. It meant leaving something behind.
One of our philosophies is: leave the place better than we found it. For us to be able to do that was something I could only dream of. It literally felt like a street stadium. Now the kids can play there and it’s safe.
WHERE DID THE IDEA FOR A LONDON-VERSUS-NEW YORK TOURNAMENT BEGIN, AND WHY DID NEW YORK FEEL LIKE THE RIGHT CITY FOR LONDON TO MEET?
In terms of New York, it was a no-brainer. The World Cup was happening and this was the first time we were bringing The Last Stand back. The World Cup final was there, and this was like our street World Cup, so we thought it should end where that ended. That’s where London versus New York came from. We also wanted to see what the level in New York was like.
An amazing community and amazing people. They loved that we were doing something for them, and the level of talent was amazing. The hospitality too—New York people go above and beyond, man.
We had support from New York’s World Cup Czar (Maya Handa). while EDC (New York City Economic Development Corporation) and the parks team helped us with sites.
Getting a permit two days before the World Cup final was extremely difficult. The mayor had put an embargo or memorandum in place, meaning any permit had to be personally approved by him. Pulling that off speaks volumes about how much the work resonated in the city. Hats off to the whole team.
The New York women won on penalties, while the men’s competition ended in a draw, so it looks like a rematch is on the cards. The men’s result stayed level because everything overran and the timings were strict.
It’s four-a-side: five minutes to win, or first to two goals. The winner stays on, and the team winning the most matches goes through before a semi-final and final. It was so tight. It was mad.
THE LAST STAND’S FILMS, MERCHANDISE AND CAMPAIGNS FEEL ROOTED IN THE PLACES AND PEOPLE INVOLVED. HOW IMPORTANT HAS THAT VISUAL AND CULTURAL LANGUAGE BEEN TO THE PROJECT?
It’s important. A lot of brands create things to grab attention. When you’re only creating to grab attention and views, you miss the cultural nuances. When you genuinely make something that represents people and speaks for them, that’s where the difference in the work shows.
Our insight, experience and relationships make the difference. Everyone, from our communities team to media and production, sees this as more than a job. They really believe in it.
For a lot of people, there’s one deadline after another. They complete one promo and it’s straight onto the next—a conveyor belt. I don’t blame them, because I know what it’s like. I worked with On Running across Europe, the Middle East and Africa, and before that on Nike’s Euros campaign. Before that, I worked at Honda. I’ve been in it, so I know how it goes.
FOR THIS COLLABORATION WITH UNCLE, YOU’RE USING THE STREET TO SHARE THE LAST STAND’S MESSAGE. WHAT CAN THAT OFFER THAT A CONVENTIONAL MEDIA PLATFORM CAN’T?
I’ll be honest: I’ve never done it before, so I don’t really know what it will be like. Our thing runs on word of mouth, so this could hopefully give it some elevation.
When people see themselves elevated, it uplifts everyone. If they can see it, they can believe it, and they start to believe in themselves. Hopefully, this elevates the message. I’ll be truly honest: I don’t know what it could look like, so I’m really excited to see how it goes.
Before we finish, is there anything else you’d like to add?
There are a lot of really good people in London and the UK who want to help you. Don’t feel like your dreams or ideas aren’t worth anything. Ask, talk and share. Maybe it won’t be the first person, the second or the third, but it will be someone further down the line. Don’t give up, because this world works because of people’s dreams. That’s what makes it exciting.
When I first started, a lot of people used to say, “It’s been done.” I was like, “Yeah, it’s been done—but not by me.”
You’re unique. It doesn’t matter whether something has been done, because you’re the one doing it. That’s your contribution to society. Don’t be discouraged because it’s been done before. You haven’t done it.







