by Amy Lawrence
And I remember thinking, that’s it, full-time now, it’s over. And feeling nothing, absolutely nothing. A world away my Arsenal family were … experiencing something, but I couldn’t know what. I half drifted off into an unhappy sleep.
So I could end there, but there is one more thing to say about that night. It’s embarrassing and I’ve told very few people. But it’s true so it belongs here. Somewhere in that space between sleep and wakefulness, I was suddenly wide awake, sitting up. I’d felt a surge of energy shoot through my body, a jolt – no, more like a colossal wave – right through my body, an incredible physical rush like nothing I’d experienced before, and I sat bolt upright and noticed – with surprise and confusion – tears prickling my eyes and there’s this one thought, this one thought in my mind clear as a bell, utter, utter clarity: we’ve fucking done it. Ecstatic joy running through my veins, desperately needing release and expression, sitting in this stupid fucking hotel room trying not to appear utterly unhinged.
I am crying as I write this.
I looked at the clock. It’s about ten minutes after the game should have finished if it had kicked off on time.
PART II: I WAS THERE
CHRIS LITTLE:
Us four started a ‘Georgie Graham’s red and white army’ chant right at the beginning of half-time, the entire seating section responded and then the standing lot joined in and it went back and forth for a bit and then all of us in metronomic unison for pretty much the entirety of the interval. I have two children but I am pretty sure that was the proudest moment of my life.
Seeing that net bulge and realising what that meant sent me into an almost indescribable delirium. Total disbelief, informed by never having seen Arsenal achieve something like this and also supporting a club since 1976 that had won things but had always been the butt of even our own jokes. I’d seen Lee Chapman, John Hawley, Colin Hill, George Wood, etc, some truly average, often terrible players who never indicated we would ever scale the heights we did in 1989. We writhed around for what seemed like a lifetime, crying, shouting, shrieking. And then the whistle blew and we just carried on. I can’t remember how long after the final whistle it was but my friend Nick and I both slumped down, our backs against the barrier between the standing and seating sections and just wept.
MARK PEARCE:
The biggest thing that stays with me is that it was the first time I had seen an older man cry. I haven’t a clue who he was and he must have been 65 if not a day. I just remember looking around at everyone celebrating and looking towards the white wall and seeing him standing there.
PETE BEAUMONT:
It was my stag weekend. I sat with my brother Bob, my best man, and a Liverpool fan. At the final whistle he gave me his camera and I walked down to the front of the stand until I reached the tunnel. As I got there a lot of Arsenal staff were just rushing out and on to the pitch, so I took my opportunity and blended in. I suddenly realised I was in amongst the players and on the hallowed Anfield turf. I managed to hug most of the players and George Graham, and then I took my chances and made my way with the official photographers to the centre circle for the trophy giving. At this point I was challenged for the first time by a steward (he probably realised an official photographer was unlikely to be wearing an Arsenal shirt). After asking who the fuck I was, I just said I’m a fan, please can I just get some photos. Amazingly he just said ‘Five minutes’, and that was enough. I ran off to the away end and saw my mates looking down, gobsmacked.
PETER HARVEY:
My friend had got tickets from a tout up in London – about ten rows behind George Graham and Kenny Dalglish on the halfway line. If I had a bad heart it would have gone that day. The thing is we were totally unaware of the time. It was just going so slow and yet so fast, it was a real spooky feeling. When Michael Thomas scored we knew it was near the end but we didn’t know how close it was. We just went mental. But the Liverpool fans around us were all right – they were shaking hands and saying well done. The best thing about it for me is that I actually managed to get on to the pitch. There was one security guy. He understood that it was an amazing night and he let me on and I shook hands with O’Leary and I actually kissed the man who scored that goal. My sons, by the way, are called Thomas and Michael.
MIKE BIRCH:
I’d driven up to Anfield with my seven-year-old son Greg. I made my way to the front so my son could see, whereupon a police officer lifted him over the wall and sat him there in safety. Upon the final whistle he beckoned me over as well. When the players came over they handed him the trophy and held him up to the crowd.
BRENDAN BOYLE:
After the players had left the pitch I witnessed one of the most moving things I had ever seen. We had been speaking to an old Arsenal fan in a wheelchair in the disabled section earlier, and he had since been wheeled on to the pitch. George Graham was the last to leave the pitch with the trophy, and on his way he walked past the wheelchair guy. He then stopped, turned around and walked back, and placed the trophy in this guy’s lap.
SPIRITMAN:
At the final whistle, the atmosphere in our section was indescribable, way beyond anything I had experienced. The police held us in, as that used to be necessary for safe crowd dispersion, but we were in no hurry anyway. I think we sang our ‘Are you watching, Tottenham?’ chant about 200 times.
SARAH TURNER:
We just go mad. I’m aware of bare-chested grown men, on this warm, balmy night, hugging each other and crying. We finally leave the ground and on our way back to the car we walk past an old Liverpool programme seller. ‘Well done,’ he says, ‘Well done to The Arsenal.’
MICK WINNETT:
After the game some Liverpool fans came down the pitch and stood in front of us, and all the Arsenal fans sang ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ all the way through with all the proper words, out of respect for the Hillsborough fans. About half the Liverpool fans stayed behind and (bitterly disappointed though they were) applauded the Arsenal team on their lap of honour. I’ve never forgotten their conduct that night. When I left the stadium I got grabbed and kissed by two rather attractive Scouse girls.
RUSSELL JONES:
That must be the only time ‘you’ll never get a job’ was not sung. We really felt for them at that moment and it was moving that they all hung around at the end. Anfield was very emotional and we all sensed a feeling of togetherness.
I remember the first services on the motorway. What a party. People were just jumping around, dancing, singing and hugging everyone. Eventually back home to my mum’s and up at 7 a.m. to start the Saturday shift at Asda.
PAUL AUSTIN:
When Mickey scored it was really hard to describe the joy. I remember trying to grab a copper’s helmet, no idea why. We got home at 5.15 a.m., ecstatic. I then went to work on the adrenaline. I was a carpenter/joiner, had a job booked in for Saturday morning at 8.30. I was on a high, the bathroom went well.
RICHARD ROBERTS:
At 1–0 we saw the police ring the ground, so we knew time was getting short. An unforgettably emotional version of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ was being sung by all sides of the ground, including some of us. I remember looking up to the sky, which still retained some light, saying to my uncle, who had died that year, ‘It’s just one more goal, please.’ Then it happened. Tears of joy, disbelief and sadness for all those that weren’t there. The Liverpool fans continued their serenade and were generous in their applause. We left the ground in silence as a mark of respect. I recall a massive skinhead breaking through the police lines and approaching me … only to put his hand out and say, ‘Well played, mate, only one team tried to win tonight.’
STEVE KING:
After the match, as we poured out of the ground, there were a number of Liverpool supporters waiting to shake our hands and offer congratulations, young and old. Really classy and not something I could imagine I’d have done had the positions been reversed.
JEREMY MCREDDIE:
We were in
the Main Stand at Anfield and very near the Kop so had to stay as under cover as we could. I had my shirt buttoned up over my Arsenal shirt. The people around us soon clocked we were Londoners but were generally quite good. At the final whistle the men around us were shaking our hands to say well done and it was a woman who gave me the choice line of ‘lucky cockney bastards’. On the final whistle, readying for the presentation of the trophy, we jumped down into the paddock alongside the pitch and stood on top of the old dugouts and shook the players’ hands as they went down the tunnel. We then walked around the pitch to join the away fans in the corner for the escort to the coaches. On the way out of Liverpool we were flagged down by two Arsenal fans whose car had been nicked due to leaving a scarf on the parcel shelf.
MICK COPPOCK:
One incident stands out in my mind, as it will always do. As John Lukic got the ball and played it out to Lee Dixon, my brother Steve nudged me and simply said: ‘Now would be a good time to score …’ Simple as that. After the game we went back to our hotel (where the Liverpool players were staying!) and we just stood at the bar with our friend Mike, who we also went with, and looked at each other in total disbelief.
KELVIN MEADOWS:
When Mickey went through the first time and virtually back-passed it to Grobbelaar the crowd pushed forward and my glasses were knocked off. I managed to catch them, the lens and the little screw. How? Who knows? Who cares? I asked this copper next to me if he had a small penknife and showed what needed to be done. He fixed ’em. Nice one, officer. Every time we went forward, the crowd swayed and I held on to my glasses. We had no idea how long was left as Mickey went charging through the middle. I grabbed my glasses to save them being knocked off … and didn’t see the ball hit the back of the net. Didn’t care.
NEIL LACH-SZYRMA:
I was in the Kop. After the goal my only physical action was to drop my head and close my eyes. Heaven. I glanced round at my mate a few feet back – he gave me a funny half-smile – then back to the pitch and carried on celebrating in my head.
MEL O’REILLY:
The trophy bit was a bit of a haze but I do remember Rocastle, his face lit up and his eyes dancing. You see, he was our bloke on the pitch despite Mickey Thomas getting the goal. Rocky’s medal was ours as well and when he smiled, we smiled.
GARY FRANKLIN:
Mayhem is an understatement. The hairs on my body felt like cold nails, never-ending noise, it was quite unimaginable. Hugging, kissing, jumping up and down, grown men crying. I thought I had experienced everything emotionally but this blew my mind. I got up on a barrier – standing with arms held wide, head tilted back thanking God, eyes closed, just soaking it all in. We, as one, singing ‘Boring, Boring, Arsenal’ over and over again. David O’Leary was in tears. We sang all the way home.
MICHAEL COHEN:
I honestly don’t remember the goal but I do remember collapsing on the floor with Pierce O’Leary as the seats collapsed and everyone just lost their minds. I found my uncle and cousin who were sitting a few rows away at the final whistle. The next thing I remember is us making our way to the players’ entrance and into the inner sanctum of the stadium. Martin’s jibbing skills led the way, but as I remember the Liverpool staff were so shell-shocked we just waltzed past. Next thing we’re in the dressing room and I’m standing next to Nigel, Lee and the boys as they celebrate. Surreal doesn’t come into it. My cousin Dean and myself then grabbed a ball and walked out on to the Anfield pitch, ran up to the Kop end and had a kick-around until someone shouted for us to get off the pitch.
DEAN WENGROW:
We found ourselves living out our wildest fantasies on the Anfield turf after the game. As we ran out of the tunnel, I recall looking towards an empty Kop end and seeing some of the bouquets of flowers that the teams had both brought out before kick-off laying forlorn on the terraces. In our elation, Hillsborough had for those wondrous moments lost its significance. I ran down to the away end to re-enact Mickey’s goal, and I recall how the section where the Arsenal fans were sat was a total wreck. I found my seat, yanked it off and took it home with me, where it remains to this day, a filthy piece of cream-coloured plastic in a cupboard above the washing machine.
STEVE TARR:
It must have been about ten minutes after the final whistle and we were all finally catching our breath. As they were preparing for the trophy presentation, a guy in his sixties asked me how old I was. I told him I was 20 and while smiling he shook his head and said he felt sorry for me. When I asked why he said that even if I was still following Arsenal when his age I would never have a moment better than we’d just experienced. He was right of course.
SIMON RICH:
I just remember being lifted off my feet and into orbit. I chose to go to Anfield that day instead of doing my GCSE history exam. It was well worth the U grade I got, trust me.
DAVE DANIELS:
When we scored I had jumped up on to my seat and my leg went through the plastic backing leaving a permanent scar on my leg that I show to anyone given half a chance to say I WAS THERE! After the game I can remember that the Arsenal supporters ransacked a petrol station for drinks and food (apologies).
MARK LEECH:
Even though I was working that night as a photographer I was able to feel this sense of pride as an Arsenal fan. On the way home we stopped at a service station. I thought I had seen it all that night. I heard this guy first of all, he had his back to me, with a very loud cockney voice screaming down a payphone. I passed him and noticed his blood-stained shirt was ripped open, his nose wasn’t looking too good and he was singing ‘We won the league on Merseyside’ at the top of his voice. Today he would have been surrounded by people on mobiles taking a video. As a photographer it’s an image I never got to take but it’s an impression I have never forgotten.
AMY LAWRENCE:
In hindsight, given what had happened a few weeks before at Hillsborough, it is a painful paradox to reflect on how many of us around that time loved the motion and energy of a football terrace much more than being in seats. My memory of Michael Thomas’s goal and its aftermath is mashed up with how it felt to be within this sprawling mass of emotion. The best analogy I could ever come up with was like being in the sea. It was like going under a sudden wave – that slightly surreal world where things get muffled and dizzying – and then coming up for air and into the light and noise. Sensory overload. A whirlwind of happiness. I found I had travelled to a different part of the terrace, away from my friends, and grabbed the nearest people to hug. One was straight out of the skinhead, tattooed hooligan school of the times, sobbing like a baby. The next was an Irish guy in a trance mumbling ‘It’s my birthday’ again and again. Those seconds were like an out of body experience.
All these people who I never saw before or since – we overlapped in each other’s lives for a minute or two at most – but I remember them so clearly. Two Liverpool fans who hopped on to the pitch and ran down to the away fans before opening up their home-made flag in honour of those lost at Hillsborough. A tall skinny Scouser with trademark tracksuit and moustache had been part of the group who waited outside for the Arsenal fans to emerge and clasped my hand to shake while saying well done. We swapped mementos. I offered my yellow and blue bar scarf, he offered his red silk flag adorned with the liver bird. Still have it of course.
PART III: THE NIGHT CONTINUES
MATT LOWMAN:
I remember sitting back on the coach and a young Liverpool fan getting on board before emotionally congratulating us. Heading back to London and the one thing I remember vividly is how incredibly thirsty we were – we stopped to get petrol and one of our group tried to run in and buy some drinks, only to be ushered back on to the coach by the police empty-handed.
TREVOR MOORE:
Once in the car one of the lads says he’s hungry so we decide to stop at a chip shop. We get our chips and I go out to the car to find … no car. Here I am, bag of chips in hand, standing all alone in Liverpool wearin
g an Arsenal shirt. Couple of minutes pass and I hear my mates giggling. They’d moved the car round the corner.
AMANDA SCHIAVI:
Outside the car park my dad kissed an Everton fan, who happened to be a policewoman. We hit the M25 at some unearthly hour and we were alongside the coach with the team in it. What a feeling. All I remember is seeing Winterburn going mad. They waved, we waved. An incredible feeling.
JANET COHEN:
Passing the players’ coach on the way back I remember the ecstatic honking of the coach horn. Later we watched the video and found ourselves in the crowd with our hats on, something we love to this day.
EMERITA GOMEZ SANCHEZ:
We ended up coming back in a coach a bit worse for wear but still remember everyone drinking and on the TV was Crocodile Dundee.