A Memory; 15th April 1989

15th April 1989

I'm not always the best at remembering times, dates and places.  When people talk about 'JFK' moments I sometimes wonder how they possibly remember such detail.  But I do remember the circumstances 23 years ago.  I was at a football match.

10 years old, and 8 months into my first season with a proper season ticket I was with my dad at the game.  Oldham v Sunderland, a game that finished.  It finished 2-2, and I now know carried very little significance for either side, but for the 10 year old me every game was a huge event.

I sat in my seat in the Martins Stand, a stand that no longer exists at Boundary Park, the stand I spent so many hours of my formative football supporting years.  Gazing down on the hallowed plastic turf, it was the sounds and smells of those years that I still hold to this day.  The heady mix of pastry, mixed with 5,000 musty coats, bovril and a cloud of cigarette, cigar and pipe smoke.

Pushing through the tight corridor that ran below the stand, Waggon Wheel (which was huge in those days) and spearmint tab chewing gum in hand I'd turn to my left and head up towards the light at the top of the concrete staircase.  That small staircase seemed to be soundproofed, the buzz of noise hitting me as emerged from the gloom.

I was always aware of the mass of blue metal that surrounded the terraces.  Indeed, I doubt I'm alone in having many fond memories of the cages and barriers at games, especially for those of a similar age.  Many a time the back overhang of the perimeter fence made a fantastic climbing frame in my early days stood on the Chaddy End.  To me, the mass of metal at a football ground was a playground, not a potential death trap.

Even in the relatively small crowds at Oldham I'd stood on the same terrace in previous seasons and felt the surge of the crowd as one of our hero's on the pitch fired a shot fizzing into the net.  Allied to the joy of a goal, the surge of the crowd was an exhilarating experience.

Still I stood that day in the relative comfort of the upper tier of the Martins Stand, looking down on the home terrace, the Chaddy End and on the fans massing together.  I made my way up to my solid, squeaking seat.  Shortly after, the game with Sunderland started.

Less than 10 mins into the game I noticed for the first time my dad speaking with the gents around us.  I heard something, "Liverpool and Forest", I knew it was the FA Cup semi-final that day...had someone scored dad?  An incident on our pitch took my attention.  What was going on?  The click and buzz of transistor radios seemed to be louder than I'd ever heard during a game before.  Normally that was a sound saved for half-time. 

Back to the game, a chance, a tackle I was in the moment.  More strange conversations, phrases like "has a wall collapsed?", "on the pitch", "fans injured" caught my attention again.  What's happened dad?  Nobody really knew, a mass of half conversations becoming rumour and crackly transistor signals couldn't convey a clear story.  My dad wasn't sure what to tell me, too many differing stories.

Something had gone wrong, we both knew that much for sure.

At some point an announcement came over the PA system with some news from the FA Cup Semi-Final match.  There'd been a crowd incident, people were dead and injured.  I could hear the tone of the conversations change around me.

None of us truly knew what had happened, but we immediately knew that 30 miles away, at a football match just like ours, some people wouldn't be walking away from Hillsborough stadium.

96 didn't.

Teaching the Big Boys a Lesson

It isn’t often that Oldham Athletic could be considered able to teach the goliaths of Liverpool FC and Manchester United FC a lesson.  As many a teary-eyed watcher of the (now perennial) League One club will testify, they’ve done it on the pitch once or twice over the years.  Though many of those watchers will undoubtedly have more grey hair than most, indeed some will have even less hair than a pre-transplant Wayne Rooney it is that long ago. Certainly off the pitch the Latics have nothing to teach the giants of the English game, until now that is.

Sitting in a full Anfield on Friday night, the long suffering Oldham fans gave a performance that even outshone their hard-working heroes on the pitch.  Full of verve, songs and no little humour, the kind of humour football crowds at their best produce on a weekly basis.  The highlight being the singing of ‘What a waste of money’ to big money signing Andy Carroll who proceeded almost immediately to score for the 1^st time at Anfield this season with a fine finish.  Not to be put off, the fans immediately switched in a breath to ‘You’re still a waste of money’, to grins and giggles from around Anfield, even on the pitch.

At the other end of the ground it was a different story, with the Kop uncharacteristically quiet throughout the game.  Save of course for at least one individual who, minutes before Carroll’s scoring appearance, reduced Oldham defender Tom Adeyemi to tears with an alleged racist outburst.  It was a sad end to what had been up until the incident a good old-fashioned FA Cup tie. 

In the stands around the ground it was unclear what the holdup was for, but something had clearly happened between the young midfielder and a section of the crowd.

Coming so close to the Suarez affair, the man himself was in the posh seats on Friday night, it was clear the incident would grab the headlines.  Sure enough within minutes of the end of the game reports of statements being made and arrests were across the full spectrum of media.

It is not a position Oldham and their non-existent team of PR people find themselves in often, ever in fact.  Yet from those first post-match minutes to four days later the sleepy League One side has shown more sense, decency and maturity than either the reds of Liverpool or Manchester. 

Oldham as a club were quick to condem the action, there was no speculating, no mention of anything other than the fact that an incident had occurred and reported.  By ensuring the relevant parties were made aware of the incident, including Tom’s parent club Norwich, they gave Tom their public support.  In private, the club staff, his team mates and fans all rallied to Tom’s aid, showing him equally tremendous support.  By these actions alone, Tom knows he has the full backing of the club.

Liverpool’s PR machine also quickly leapt into action, rightly condemning any such action and delivering the reassurance that every effort and support would be made to investigate.  They followed this up with a more significant statement 3 days later to apologise to Adeyemi for the hurt he was caused, whatever the subsequent outcome of police action. 

Oldham, with a quiet dignity have since thanked Liverpool for their actions, and made it clear they hold the ‘fan’ and only them responsible.  Of course it is always easier to maintain such dignity when you are the ‘wronged’ party, but the way Oldham have handled the incident has been classy.

Contrast this with the debacle that followed the Suarez/Evra incident where certainly Liverpool and to an extent Manchester United have played on tribal divides and the historic rivalry between the clubs to exacerbate what was a sad incident.  Much has been spoken about the PR disaster that was the Suarez shirts at the Wigan game and subsequent comments.  In fact sadly some commentators have suggested the Adeyemi incident may have been sparked by the arrival of a team many Liverpool fans see as being from Manchester.  There were unsubstantiated rumours at one stage that the perpetrators against Adeyemi were wearing the same Suarez shirts.

Whatever the outcome of the Adeyemi incident, it is clear is that the Premiership giants could do a lot worse than take a leaf out of the PR playbook of a tiny League One team.  After all, getting these incidents sorted out and ultimately removed from the game should be the aim.  Quiet dignity after the event, but not during the event should be the mantra.  Adeyemi didn’t remain quiet during the event and for that he above anyone comes out of this with dignity. So maybe it’s time for to look beyond clubs and just do what needs to be done.