Hillsborough

[Mike]

really resonated with me this:

http://www.liverpoolfc.tv/news/drilldown/N...060413-1048.htm

 

 

Take a long, hard look.

 

I am an Evertonian. I live in Liverpool. Sefton, actually. Merseyside, anyway.

 

I don't go to as many games as I used to. I gave my season ticket up a couple of years ago. To be truthful, I got a bit sick of working all week to pay the wages of the likes of Pistone. They're just not worthy of it.

 

My elder brother Gary died at Hillsborough. Asphyxiation. The breath was crushed out of him by the sheer mass of bodies squashed into such a tight space. I'm getting angry thinking about it.

 

He was no angel like, and I hope to God he did have a few bevies before the game.

 

I don't like to be reminded of it. I don't much like the memories of seeing the disaster unfold on the telly, not realising he was there until my dad said so. Even then, jokingly saying, 'Our Gary'll get me one of them' about the numerous Police helmets littering the pitch.

 

There was no phone call to say he was alright. This became more worrying as the day wore on. My dad's grim march around to the pub. His return with the dreaded news from his mates who had returned but couldn't bring themselves to come to ours. I don't blame them. What would they have said?

 

My mother had kept her composure up all day up until that point, busily ironing every bit of clothing in the house that wasn't on someone's back. Upon hearing the news - which was a strained, 'There's no other way of saying this, he's dead' - all the day's ironing got flung around the kitchen and the ironing board was upended.

 

I escaped to the back garden and tried to fend off a particularly boisterous Jack Russell I kept there (for the rats in our council slum).

 

The rest of the day is a bit sketchy. I realise now I was in shock. I was seeing a girl I'd known for years at the time. Not that serious but in my thoughts enough for that to be the first place I turned to.

 

The poor girl didn't know what to do with me. I was pretty vacant. She probably just plied me with drink.

 

Her dad, who I regard as one of my best friends now, came in. Not knowing about my news, he said, 'Have you seen what's happened? Do you know anyone that's gone?' My girlfriend had to take him out of the room to explain. 'Yeah,' I said to no one.

 

I went to Sheffield the next day with my dad and a couple of uncles. The rest of my dad's brothers, who were scattered around the country, met up there to support us.

 

My girlfriend still says I shouldn't have gone but as I said at the time, 'I can't remember the last time I saw him. I've got to'.

 

It was a weird dream-like journey. I kept expecting him to be standing on some street corner smiling, saying: 'Where have youse been, ay?'

 

It never happened and we set about making sure the person they had lying on some slab in this town was our Gary.

 

They had some kind of community/church hall set up to deal with people like us. I suppose they were doing their best in a terrible situation but the last thing we needed was to be comforted by some stranger who knew nothing about us or the person we were looking for.

 

'Listen mate, where's the nearest pub?' My Dad said.

 

'There's one across the road. Shall the young fellow stay here?' Lazarus says.

 

I was at the front going out the door.

 

After a few pints, we decided we'd better find the place where they were keeping the bodies.

 

We were sitting around on couches in what I think was a morgue. There were a lot of people about, all crying or with worried looks on their faces.

 

A couple of fellas went past in white tunics. One of them was about Peter Crouch's height. My uncle David said, 'I bet he does nights'. We all laughed. God, you had to. The laughter didn't last long and the smiles didn't linger.

 

We were ushered into a room. There was a glass-viewing window with a curtain drawn across it on the inside. As we stood in the dark, all nine or so, there were no jokes.

 

The curtain went aside and there laid my elder brother, Gary. It was him, alright. Or something with the life knocked out of it that resembled him.

 

My dad rested his hands on the windowsill and put his nose up to the glass. I couldn't handle it and fled the room. I was off up the street and our David came after me and brought me back.

 

I asked my Dad days later why he did that and he said, 'Well, you have to make sure'.

 

The events of 15th of April knocked the stuffing out of my mum and dad and they began visibly ageing. My relationship with my dad is better now as we did clash at the time. My sister and I get on better than we did at the time too but what teenager is on more than grunting terms with their elder sister anyway?

 

Not long after, we were in one of the cathedrals in town. Can't remember which one. They had us all lined up in some vestry as [Maggie] Thatcher and some royal with the coldest hands I've ever shaken shook mine.

 

The coldest hands I've ever felt and the coldest heart in the same room to shake the hands of a lad from Bootle. That wouldn't happen while I was conscious nowadays but I was young and impressionable at the time. 'So dreadfully sorry,' I think Maggie said.

 

'Yeah, I bet yis are,' I can just about live with myself for not saying.

 

Fair play to my granddad who turned his back on the pair of them. I'd pay money to revisit that sketch. God knows what Maggie and her mate thought. I hope they had a good think about it, but I doubt it.

 

I better get to the point of this, if there is one. It feels alright writing about it for the readers who will take it for what it is, on a basic human level. Something I suspect some folk are lacking. Basic Humankindness. Not a word, but sod it, this is my piece.

 

We as a family started getting letters and tickets through about memorials. I was all for supporting my mother and father in this if that's what they wanted to do. I'd already explained to my mother that I wasn't going to visit a gravestone in Thornton every week and she accepted it. It's single figures the amount of times I've been there. My mum and Dad go every week. That's their decision.

 

They also go to the memorial every year. One of the first ones I went to, I stood on the Kop with my mouth sealed. I've never been to one since. I've vowed to never go there again unless it's for the derby.

 

What struck me was the amount of people on the Kop that day. It was full. 96 people died and they give around 5 tickets to each family. I personally don't understand why you would want to be involved in something like that unless a relative or a friend had died.

 

At the start of the day, we were gathered in one of their lounges. Somehow we had managed to get in the wrong place and the players walked in and stood near us. I'll never forget the sight of people standing their kids next to them and taking photographs. I was speechless. I suppose I wasn't much better with my black Everton badge on.

 

My mum and dad still go to these things, but even my mum is getting a bit tired of the whole thing. My sister and auntie go and I normally give my ticket to my cousin, who was very close to Gary.

 

I normally meet them in the Abbey or one of the many boozers along County Strasa afterwards. I went mad at my sister and (female) cousin for going on about being able to smell Baros' aftershave last year. A couple of years before, Berger was the object of their attention.

 

I was in Sheffield recently to do with work. After I'd done what I was down there to do, I very nearly stayed on the tram to Leppings Lane. I decided not to in the end. It struck me that my brother - who I used to get a hiding off for wearing his clothes (he went off his head when he saw our Isle of Man holiday snaps and I'm standing there grinning in his Adidas top with a fish I'd caught), got another for snapping the forks on his Raleigh Bomber in Derby Park, used to laugh at me doing Southall impressions, bouncing the ball off the wall and diving full stretch across the bed - died in a strange town, at a horrible football ground, with people sitting and shouting on the spot where he drew his last breath once a fortnight and I wasn't there to help him.

 

At the FA Cup Final in 1989, me and my girlfriend went. We got free tickets from LFC. I had a few bevies that day and joined isolated crowds in hurling more than a bit of abuse at the Met, who, to be fair, took it on the chin.

 

The game's a bit of a blur. My girl's a Blue and I remember her being stood on her seat screaming. One thing that stands out from that day is during the minute's silence: someone started playing reggae music full blast from somewhere.

 

I don't like minute silences, there's far too many of them and they're never completely silent. This clapping lark's a much better idea. The thought of armchair fans clapping at the telly is marvellous.

 

A few things I'm going to leave you to chew on?

 

I am an Evertonian. I live in Liverpool. I am a Scouser. What's so hard to understand about that?

 

No amount of profound banners, car stickers or cheap wristbands is going to bring our Gary back.

 

It's hard to explain to children why they would have had another uncle only he was killed at a football match.

 

Boycotting The Sun is pointless. The lazy excuse for a journo that wrote the offending crap and the editor who let it go have probably moved on and not missed a night's kip over it. If you would read The Sun anyway without the boycott, you need to have a rethink of your worldview.

 

I hope no one ever sings '96 is not enough' or anything similar near me. Then again, why would they at a match where Everton were playing?

 

I hope my mother never gets to hear about other human beings singing songs about her dead son.

 

Justice is never going to happen. Let it go. I'm trying really hard to. Some of you have even more reason to do so.

 

I've visited Hillsborough since 1989. It was a horrible game, it rained, I sat in the home bottom bit with the Evertonians above me.

 

Bakayoko shot a sitter over the bar to cap an awful day I'd sooner forget. Three points would have been nice but the game summed up that season.

 

I am proud to say I have sat in Wembley and sang 'Merseyside' at a Cup Final. I've also sat on the shoulders of a huge Watford fan when they were two-nil down. I was with my dad. I'd like to take my kids to see Everton in a Cup Final one day. I'll be bloody annoyed if it's spoilt by a gang of idiots.

 

I'm still with the girl who looked after me on the night of 15th of April 1989. We have three kids. I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if I lost one of them - let alone heard people singing songs about it.

 

She still plies me with drink. Take it easy.

 

The views expressed in this article are those of Everton supporter Ian Collins alone and do not represent the views of Liverpool Football Club.

[Guest Scot]

That's a brilliant piece. Moved me almost to tears a few times.

 

If only more thought his way.

[fyds]

Excellent, excellent piece. Brought the whole day vividly to mind in a very human way.

[Chili Palmer]

I don't think you can ever give up fighting for justice.

[Mike]

i don't think the point of his story is to recreate the day at all.

it concerns itself with how he was then, the person he is now, how he dealt with it, his thoughts on the present and the future. all without easy slippage into mawkish sentimentality, this is him - note his parents reaction is completely different, he pulls no punches and doesn't ask for sympathy. Its his truth and i applaud him.

[Guest Scot]

i don't think the point of his story is to recreate the day at all.

it concerns itself with how he was then, the person he is now, how he dealt with it, his thoughts on the present and the future. all without easy slippage into mawkish sentimentality, this is him - note his parents reaction is completely different, he pulls no punches and doesn't ask for sympathy. Its his truth and i applaud him.

 

Completely agree, Mike. Cheers for posting that.

[AE]

i don't think the point of his story is to recreate the day at all.

it concerns itself with how he was then, the person he is now, how he dealt with it, his thoughts on the present and the future. all without easy slippage into mawkish sentimentality, this is him - note his parents reaction is completely different, he pulls no punches and doesn't ask for sympathy. Its his truth and i applaud him.

 

 

Agree with your summary.

A very moving article that.

[Chili Palmer]

i don't think the point of his story is to recreate the day at all.

it concerns itself with how he was then, the person he is now, how he dealt with it, his thoughts on the present and the future. all without easy slippage into mawkish sentimentality, this is him - note his parents reaction is completely different, he pulls no punches and doesn't ask for sympathy. Its his truth and i applaud him.

 

yeah, I agree, he puts a very personal viewpoint across very well.

[Jim Price]

I don't think you can ever give up fighting for justice.

 

Why's that then? It's his choice to make not anyone else's.

 

It's a rare gift to be able to express your thoughts like Ian has done, and I really do see where he's coming from on many points.

Edited April 13, 2006 by Jim Price

[Chili Palmer]

Why's that then? It's his choice to make not anyone else's.

 

It's a rare gift to be able to express your thoughts like Ian has done, and I really do see where he's coming from on many points.

 

I never critizised him for it, as you say its his choice what he does, it is just my belief that justice is worth fighting for. If anyone disagrees with that I don't care, in the same why the author doesn't care what I think.

[Swipe]

Amazing article. Really moving.

[Montse]

A very moving and thought provoking piece

[JohnnyH]

A very personel account. However, I am surprised to see someone say that they wish more people felt like that, as he is saying that the Sun boycot should end, there should be no fight for justice, people other then those directly affected through lost family members should not be involved or grieve and the wrist bands, stickers, banners etc bring him no comfort=

 

The whole day and loss of his brother has understandbly severely affected him and the way this reads he sounds like a guy who needs help, however, I really hope that not many others feel this way, because the more solidarity shown by all Liverpool fans can only benifet the fight for justice which should never be given up on. And the Sun boycot is not pointless and helps in keeping teh fight alive.

[SkippyjonJones]

Its an open and honest piece. I don?t agree with all of it ? but that?s not the point. Who I am to judge him? Fair play to him for writing it. to be encouraged.

[fyds]

Its an open and honest piece. I don?t agree with all of it ? but that?s not the point. Who I am to judge him? Fair play to him for writing it. to be encouraged.

That's the thing though isn't it Mike, there is no one right or wrong way to deal with this kind of peronal tragedy - especially when it's wrapped within a bigger communal one. You have to deal with it in your own way as best you can - the lad seems to have done that to the best of abilities.

[5InIstanbul]

Crikey, I really don't know what to say having read that.

 

Incredibly moving and full marks to the lad for writing it.

 

Some people refer to reality against percerption. Point is that is his reality because it is his perceptiion and, to him, nothing else matters.

[Paul B]

I know this isn't exactly toeing the party line but I agree with him on the issue of the Sun. I no longer boycott it because of Hillsborough, after all, Anthony Walker's own mother forgave her son's killers within days of his awful murder. Against that example, I cannot find hate in my heart for this rag as no-one is still there who made those ill-advised decisions at the time. You may as well still hate the Daily Mail due to its pro-nazi stance during the second world war. I only boycott the Sun because it is an abomination to the world and I wouldn't dirty my hands with it.

[Mike]

respect you for that Paul.

[Guest efcrmagic]

It was originally in last months WSAG.

 

Fantastic piece.

[Guest efcrmagic]

The orginal WSAG piece-

 

Piece

[anfield]

I'd like to know if the people on here who admit to singing Munich songs will have a rethink after reading that......

[RP]

Not sure I've read anyone on here admit that they sing (present tense) Munich songs.

[fyds]

Not sure I've read anyone on here admit that they sing (present tense) Munich songs.

Have never sung them, never will.

[anny road]

i have

[Paul B]

I've done and sang some things I'm not proud of in my time watching football but I can honestly, hand on heart say I've never sung any song about Munich and I have also never referred to the team in those terms either.