The last time I was at Anfield was the 14th April 1990, for Forest’s division one match there. Whether the timing, almost precisely a year since Hillsborough, was a quirk of fate or a deliberate thing programmed into the fixture computer, I have no idea, but it was inevitably an emotionally charged afternoon. I can only assume the away allocation must have sold out as I found myself sat alone in the old Kemlyn Road stand, visitor-status clear for all to see by my lack of celebration of Ronny Rosenthal’s twelfth minute opener and the deep sulk I went into when Steve McMahon added a second only three minutes later. A hammering was on the cards and the lone Forest fan in there was subject to some fairly lively but not unpleasant banter.
Things remained OK even when Steve Hodge pulled one back early in the second half. I didn’t celebrate wildly, but cheered up markedly. I kept my composure even when Jemmo popped in a seventieth minute equaliser. It didn’t seem a day to gloat. Sadly, a few others around me took the changing tide of fortunes rather badly and got shall we say a little bit hostile, making it very clear that I ought to leave. The large gobbets of spit down the back of my coat only kind of reinforced the message. Things weren’t going well now. Cue a knight in shining armour. The feller sat in front of me stood up and had a firm word with the few miscreants, pointing out the inappropriateness of their behaviour on today of all days. It worked. Order and civility was restored. I stayed. No problem. My hero was, I think, Michael Starke, aka Sinbad out of Brookside. If it wasn’t, it was his stunt double, a dead-ringer. Either way, justified or not, I’ve held the guy in very high esteem ever since!
Anyway, what follows involves a much warmer welcome and what for some Forest fans might be some shockingly positive views of LFC. That said, to any friends or family reading I’ll still absolutely not be wanting the beauty of a jumper, looming large in the mega store window, worn by that beauty of a man, Ian Rush, below! ;-)
And neither, come to that, will I ever forgive John Aldridge.
I was back in the Kemlyn Road Stand yesterday, except it’s now the Sir Kenny Dalglish Stand. Gone is the old stand with its old fashioned wooden seats and strangely slanty roof. In it’s place, a shiny, enormous state-of-the art creation which sits well in the colossal, imposing theatre that Anfield has become. No messing, the place is jaw-droppingly imposing and will be even more so when the building of a new tier on the old Anfield Road End is completed - it’s currently being developed behind the existing stand, on Anfield Road itself.
Everything about the place screams big. To be fair, everything about the place screams big and brilliantly done. No soul-less bowl or meccano fabrication here. It feels solid, permanent and important. Everything fits. Even outside, the celebrations of the club’s history, characters and the memorials to tragedy are done superbly. I love a football statue. Adoration for the Cloughie one is a given. Until yesterday my second favourite was Sir Stanley Matthews at Stoke, possibly the only thing vaguely good about the Bet365, that truly charmless, soul-sapping construction plunked thoughtlessly alongside the equally charmless A50. Sorry Stokies - I loved the Victoria Ground, which had proper history and atmosphere and, if it helps, I love your Kings Hall, top Northern Soul All-nighter venue. For no good reason, I’m also prone to singing your tremendous “We’ll Be With You” song in my head, every now and then. But I digress…
Sir Stan, however, has been usurped by two at Anfield. The memorials to both Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley are spectacularly good. The former captures Shanks in classic arms-aloft pose, is sited behind the Kop and is cleverly juxtaposed in front of a black and white image of the Kop in its present day format.
Bob Paisley is captured in an iconic moment, carrying off an injured Emlyn Hughes. There‘s a crackingly good quote below too.
Then, of course, there’s the famous Shankly Gates. I couldn’t find these in the dark and the gloom, but assume they’ve moved whilst the Anfield Road building works go on. Either that or I just couldn’tget through to where they are. As if all of this isn‘t enough,
there is also a sort of pathway of greats, the ‘Men Who Built Anfield’, each with a marble sort of casket: Paisley, Shankly, Liddell and more…
And then, of course, there are the memorials to tragedy, both of which connect to my presence there on a wet, miserable night with no match on.
The Hillsborough Memorial is the focus for marking the terrible events of that day and also a focus for celebrating the lives of lost loved ones. Tonight, it’s bedecked with flowers, shirts and scarves. As it always is. This is a sacred place and there is a palpable and totally justified anger in the city around an alleged theft of items from it on Sunday.
I’m heading for a meeting of the Hillsborough Survivors Support Alliance, who have issued an open invitation to Forest fans who are members of the support group recently established for the numerous of us still deeply troubled by the events of the day. The meeting is in the Sir Kenny Dalglish Stand, the other side of the ground to the Hillsborough Memorial. I’m greeted at the ‘flagpole corner’ outside the Kop by Peter Scarfe, Chair for tonight’s meeting. I ask Peter where I’ll find the Heysel Memorial and he points me to the far end of the stand. I wanted to see this, partly for completeness and partly because it has been suggested that something similar at the City Ground, relating to Hillsborough, would be a positive gesture from Forest. I’m pretty sure I agree with this.
The Heysel Memorial is a simple affair. In an unashamedly grandiose environment, it is subtle and restrained. A small grey slate remembers the 39 victims and highlights the friendship that developed between the clubs in the aftermath.
There are those that might say that the historic rivalry between Forest and Liverpool ought to preclude such a thing. There are those that would say it was too long ago to bother now. Some perhaps just aren’t that concerned. After all, many fans weren’t even born at the time. Each is entitled to their view. Personally, I’d say that a place, a focus, for those Forest fans still affected by Hillsborough to be able to reflect would be a positive step. It would be a kind thing to do. I’d also suggest it would be a helpful focus for any visiting Liverpool fans who may come our way in the future - who knows, we might just get promoted one day and there’s always the cup! Importantly, I think it might be a good starting point for a better relationship between the clubs, the cities and the fans. There will always be those with a deep dislike of Liverpool. That’s football tribalism and that’s history. There will always be those singing “Sign On…” regardless of the fact that our own fair city and much of the county has been (and still is) a victim of successive governments and a hotspot of deprivation whichever way you care to measure it. I hated the Liverpool team of the late seventies. I’ve stood there, vein-burstingly vitriolic, chanting, taunting, “You Scouse bastards,” and “Back to Raymond” as they killed-off games against us. I worship at the temple of Colin Barrett. They were just too dominant and, if I’m honest, brilliant. Yes, there was a violent, dangerous element in the support, but then everyone had that in those days. Things have moved on. We’re no rivals to them and it’d take a miracle even greater than the Miracle Men to ever be so again. A look around Anfield shows that we’re not only not in their league, we’re not inhabiting the same universe. But we can dream…
What there could be now is a respect, a bond over a tragedy and us here showing that, actually, we’ve been behind them in the cruel fight for justice. As one incredible guy said to me at the meeting (more of which coming), “Imagine it had been you, trying to pull your mates out of that pen, then to be told you’re a thieving murderer for 30 plus years.” The touching, remarkable thing here was he didn’t mean it remotely nastily. He was just saying, making a point.
The meeting. Firstly, Myself and the only other Forest fan who could make it (via Zoom) were made to feel incredibly welcome in what could have been a difficult atmosphere. I was asked to share my experience of 15/4/89 and consensus is that we are all of us, those there who lived, “survivors.” We all witnessed things no human should ever witness and some of us have coped less easily than others. There was talk of a doctor, known to the group, from Nottingham, beaten back by truncheon wielding police to prevent him helping the victims. A Forest supporting nurse tells a similar tale. One telling quote, “ Many of us who were there that day left a part of our old selves there.” It’s not true for all, but it is for a significant number of people. There is diagnosed PTSD, drug dependency, alcoholism and, tragedy upon tragedy, countless incidences of suicide in both cities directly linked to that day. And there are well-adjusted survivors, forging good, rewarding lives. It’s not all doom and gloom.
What is very apparent is that, for at least some Liverpool fans, knowing that people in Nottingham care, are affected by Hillsborough and wish to show solidarity even this late in the day, is a comfort. I get the distinct impression too that for some of those I met, being able to help struggling Forest fans is another, relevant positive thing to do in their lives.
The concept of a suitably subtle memorial in Nottingham was well received. Anything too over the top would look disingenuous, but just a visible message that those who died were there to watch a football match involving Nottingham Forest. We were part of it. There was a strong backing for better relationships and more contact between fans, something which really ought to be achievable in these days of organised fan groups. We do it with Cologne, they do it with Borussia Moenchengladbach and others. It’s certainly not uncommon for German fan groups to have associates, alliances and friendships, even amongst Bundesliga clubs. It won’t be for everyone, but what’s the harm for those that do?
Forest could mark anniversaries, provide facilities for affected fans to meet and generally look like they’re bothered. That was one thing mentioned. The club has never really looked bothered. “It’s like they believed the stuff Cloughie came out with and have never dared challenge it,” as someone said. I’m not sure that’s true. I also think Cloughie rescinded and apologised for what he had said, but it was probably missed. I pointed out that we’ve been through a lot of instability, regimes have changed, the links to the past haven‘t always been strong. We’ve got better at recognising the glories of past - too good, some might day, to the point that we constantly dwell in it. “Anyone who came home was a survivor,” said prominent justice campaigner, the late Anne Williams, immortalised in a mural in Anfield and subject of a four-part docu-drama, written by Kevin (Awaydays) Sampson, starting on ITV from the 2nd of January. Maybe now is the right time to address this?
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