Words: Dave Proudlove // @fslconsult
As someone who has worked in regeneration for more than two decades, often with a big emphasis on heritage – and I am deeply interested in English football heritage – I am often asked what heritage actually is. The most straightforward answer is that heritage is the cultural aspects of a society or traditions which can be tangible – such as buildings and architecture – and intangible – for example oral history and stories – that are passed down through generations. This is captured by the Oxford Dictionary which defines heritage as “property that is or may be inherited; an inheritance.” My take on it is slightly more nuanced. For me, heritage is the things that we choose to take forward with us into the future. It can be argued of course – and it often is – that those that celebrate heritage are simply on a nostalgia trip, or backward looking.
Inevitably, we can all be nostalgic in some way, finding comfort in familiarity. However, my own philosophy is slightly different. I consider that nostalgia has a positive role and can be forward looking and progressive; nostalgia with a purpose if you like. Something that we can learn from. Something that can help us to shape the future. And that is why the Football Heritage project is important. It provides the opportunity to talk about and celebrate aspects of the game’s long history that communicate important lessons or pointers that can guide its future direction. It is not an ‘against modern football’ thing; it’s about what we can take from our game’s heritage in order to make it better.
Ultimately, football is about people, and as such numerous elements of the game’s evolution respond to many aspects of the human condition. Think about the origins of the game, the mob or folk football on the streets, which was about connection – for good or ill – and its subsequent taming and shaping of the game by the upper classes in the public schools of the Home Counties. Think about how this version of the game returned to the working classes in industrial communities across the North and Midlands, and how it was used to provide opportunities for fitness and recreation, to socialise outside of the workplace, and as a tool to reduce crime and disorder by industrialists such as Frederick Attock and Arnold Hills, and organisations such as the Church.
And think about how the game grew and evolved, allowing working class people to aspire, as young players saw the game as a means to better themselves and find a way to avoid the drudgery and dangers associated with a life in the pit or the steelworks, and how men like George Eastham fought the system with a view to securing better economic prospects for footballers. Consider the impact of football on our communities and local economies, and how grounds developed as ‘folk cathedrals’ hosting what Tony Waddington called the ‘working man’s ballet’, and the building of iconic grounds, stands and terraces by Archibald Leitch, who shaped iconic venues such as Fulham’s Craven Cottage, Everton’s Goodison Park, and the home of Rangers, Ibrox, and how much of it was lost or dramatically altered following the Hillsborough Disaster and the subsequent implementation of the recommendations of the Taylor Report.
All of this – and more – gives us stories and tales to recount and share. Football is a living and breathing thing that has left us with a huge legacy which continues to be added to, and we influence it and vice versa through the choices that we make, either as consumers, as custodians, through the means of protest, or the way that we vote. For our footballing heritage is intrinsically linked with our politics, whether we like it or not.
Manchester City fans in protest amid the European Superleague controversy.
Photo Credit: Sky News
“Politics is the art of controlling your environment”
Hunter S. Thompson
There was no bigger footballing fanatic than my dad. He was a supporter of Stoke City, but he’d watch just about any game, from whatever happened to be on the TV or local semi-pro games. Football and a couple of pints was his escape; he certainly wouldn’t have viewed football as being a political thing. But you only have to scratch beneath the surface to understand that its far more complicated than that.
My dad worked in some heavy, dangerous environments, mainly Stoke-on-Trent’s famous potbanks, though in my lifetime he also worked in a foundry, a brickworks, and an ordnance factory. But thanks to political interventions, the actions of more enlightened employers, and the trade union movement, his working conditions were far better than they would have been, which included having the time and space to indulge in the recreational activities he enjoyed.
And that – in part – was down to the Factory Act of 1850, which introduced the half-day on Saturdays, which was designed to make family life more agreeable, but also had the added benefit of providing more freedom for leisure and pastimes. As the 19th century entered its second half, this came to include football, both taking part and spectating, leading to the creation of numerous football clubs, many of which had their roots in the nation’s workplaces. Stoke City was formed as Stoke Ramblers by apprentices of the North Staffordshire Railway Company. Manchester United’s origins are similar, formed by Liverpudlian Frederick Attock as Newton Heath L&YR in the railway company’s carriage works in east Manchester. West Ham United was born in the Thames Ironworks and Shipbuilding Company’s shipyard in the East End of London as Thames Ironworks FC. Work, politics and football are all intertwined, the relationships undeniable, something evident not just in the British Isles, but all over the world.
As football grew in popularity, its inevitable monetisation began, leading to the creation of organised competitions and a push for professionalism, something which gathered pace within industrial settings.
Prior to the approval of professionalism, some clubs were able to find a way to ensure that players could also secure financial recompense for their footballing talents. Newton Heath L&YR guaranteed that footballers would be given jobs in the Newton Heath carriage works, and attracted players from as far afield as Wales, something that the London and North Western Railway Company did for Crewe Alexandra players at the Crewe Works locomotive plant. Preston North End’s first chairman William Suddell was an unstinting supporter of professionalism, and he helped bring the debate to a head when it became apparent that he had been paying players, leading to their expulsion from the FA Cup and a subsequent campaign to form an alternative governing body, thus forcing the FA to give their consent to professionalism.
Newton Heath L&YR FC Team Photo, 1892-83 season.
Photo Credit: Pendle Sportswear
Although football was seen as a predominantly male pursuit, our industrial workplaces saw the birth of the women’s game during the First World War. The Leicestershire mining town of Coalville was also home to a munitions factory which saw the formation of one of the country’s first female teams, the Coalville Munition Girls Football Club. During the day, they laboured in dangerous conditions producing shells for the war effort. But once their work had finished, they went out to play football and in 1918, they became the only women’s team to win the Bass Charity Regional Vase in the competition’s 134-year history. And in Lancashire, one of the game’s most celebrated women’s teams was also formed during the war years. Tram and train manufacturer Dick, Kerr and Co. established Dick, Kerr Ladies who played numerous fixtures around the country to raise funds for injured servicemen and went on to play the first women’s international when they faced France in 1920. The following year, the FA effectively banned women’s football, suggesting that the game was ‘unsuitable for females’, a ban that remained in place until 1971. Following the lifting of the ban on women’s football, it began to grow in popularity during the early 1980s, and one of the earliest clubs was Crewe Alexandra Ladies. Crewe Alexandra were born in the Crewe Works locomotive plant, and it was the ladies team where one of the modern pioneers of English women’s game made her name.
Kerry Davis was born in Sneyd Green in Stoke-on-Trent, and her father was a member of the Windrush Generation, serving in the RAF. After developing an interest in football, Kerry began playing for Crewe Alexandra Ladies – she also had a four year spell in Italy before returning to Crewe, and appearing for Knowsley United Women and Croydon Women – and in 1982 made her England debut scoring twice in a 7-1 victory over Northern Ireland, becoming her country’s first black international. She went on to become England’s record goalscorer – she still remains third today – and has been an inspiration to the Lionesses.
The continued growth of football led to the expansion of facilities and grounds, often in a haphazard and – by today’s standards – dangerous manner, and in 1902, we saw the game’s first major disaster with the collapse of an Archibald Leitch built terrace at Ibrox during a Scotland v England international. The disaster saw the death of 25 supporters, while more than 500 were injured, many seriously. Despite the death toll, there were no legal proceedings or legislative intervention, and Leitch – who was haunted by what had happened at the home of the club he supported – pleaded with the Rangers board to allow him to spearhead the ground’s redevelopment. They agreed, and Leitch went on to shape what has become one of football’s most celebrated grounds.
The pioneering Dick, Kerr Ladies side who took football in England by storm.
Photo Credit: BBC Archive
As crowds at football matches exploded, incidents began to occur on a more regular basis, though not on the scale of the 1902 Ibrox disaster. However, in 1946 during an FA Cup quarter-final between Bolton Wanderers and Stoke City at Burnden Park, a major crush caused by a stampede on an overcrowded terrace led to the death of 46 supporters and hundreds of injuries. This time there was a legislative response, and in the aftermath of the disaster, the Moelwyn Hughes report was published which recommended a series of measures including tighter controls of crowd sizes.
The 1945 General Election saw a landslide victory for Clement Attlee’s Labour Party whose manifesto Let Us Face the Future pledged nationalisation of key industries, economic planning, full employment, a system of social security, and a National Health Service. While industrial welfare schemes were not a new development, the programme of nationalisation included progressive employee welfare policies which saw extensive sports and recreational provision for workers and their families. Sports complexes were developed within industrial communities all over the country, but most notably in the North and Midlands, and these facilities supported the development and growth of numerous grassroots and semi-professional football clubs, many of whom were rooted in the workplace.
The political settlement ushered in by Attlee’s government began to be eroded with the election of Margaret Thatcher’s Tories in 1979 and her policies of deindustrialisation, managed decline of working class industrial communities, attacks on the Trade Union movement, and her favouring of financial services and the Masters of the Universe. And all of this was to have an impact on the game; English football’s modern history has been shaped by an orgy of disaster capitalism and deliberate gentrification.
During the 1980s, English football – despite the success of First Division clubs on the European stage – was in a bad way. Grounds were crumbling, gates were falling, and the reputation of the game was sullied by a minority of rampaging hooligans. Alongside the unions, Thatcher identified football supporters as one of her ‘enemies within.’
Celtic and Dundee United fans showing Margaret Thatcher the red card during the 1988 Scottish Cup Final.
Photo Credit: Jim Greenan
Towards the end of the 1984/85 season a series of incidents dragged the game’s name through the mud, providing Thatcher and her acolytes with a pile of ammunition. On 13 March 1985, a riot at an FA Cup tie between Luton Town and Millwall at Kenilworth Road was witnessed by a TV audience and led to Luton banning away supporters for four seasons and introducing a membership scheme. On the final day of the league season, a further riot occurred at St. Andrews when Birmingham City faced Leeds United. The riot involved more than 1,000 supporters, leading to the death of a 14-year old Leeds supporter – Ian Hambridge – when a wall collapsed, while 96 policemen were also injured. However, the riot – which in itself was bad enough – was overshadowed by events in Yorkshire, where a far more deadly tragedy took place.
Saturday 11 May 1985 should have been a day of celebration for Bradford City. Ahead of their final game of the season with Lincoln City at Valley Parade, they were presented with the Third Division championship trophy, and the game began in an atmosphere of jubilation. Shortly before half-time though, things changed. A small fire broke out in the main stand, and due to the breezy conditions, in less than five minutes it had engulfed the entire structure. In the ensuing panic, those near the front of the stand poured onto the pitch but tragically, those nearer the back were trapped and many were killed attempting to leave via gates that were locked. In total, 56 people – 54 Bradford supporters, and two from Lincoln – died, including the former girlfriend of Bradford striker Don Goodman who’d given her tickets for the game, while more than 265 more were injured. The fire was caused when a supporter attempted to put out a lit cigarette which fell into a void beneath the seating which ignited a serious build-up of litter, an issue that the club had been made aware of previously. In a horrible irony, the stand had been condemned to be replaced by a modern structure, and demolition was scheduled to start on the following Monday.
In the aftermath of the fire, the Sunday Times – that bastion of the Establishment – ran an editorial that branded football, “a slum sport played in slum stadiums and increasingly watched by slum people”, a terrible smear that was indicative of the way that the right viewed the game and the ordinary people that enjoyed it.
The riot at Birmingham and the Bradford fire saw the launch of the Popplewell Inquiry, with the main focus being the aftermath of the fire. The main outcomes of the inquiry were the banning of new wooden stands at all UK sports grounds, the immediate closure of any wooden stands deemed unsafe, and the banning of smoking in all wooden stands.
It had been a traumatic few months, but following the end of the domestic season, a third successive disaster occurred, and although this one was not on English soil, it was to have a major bearing on the future direction of the English game.
Although Liverpool had missed out on the First Division title to city rivals Everton, they had made it through to a second successive European Cup final where they were to face Italian giants Juventus at Belgium’s Heysel Stadium. The stadium was a crumbling wreck, in need of serious attention, but it was still somehow selected to host UEFA’s premier club competition.
A miners’ strike football match which took place in 1984, in opposition to Thatcher’s government.
Photo Credit: The Guardian
An hour or so before kick-off, a serious confrontation between rival supporters broke out leading to violence. A crowd of Juventus supporters fleeing Liverpool fans were pressed against a wall which collapsed, killing 39 people and injuring 600. Although rendered meaningless, the game went ahead anyway, Juventus winning 1-0. The repercussions were wide-ranging, with police captain Johan Mahieu and 14 Liverpool supporters convicted of manslaughter, while English clubs were banned indefinitely from European club competitions, with Liverpool provisionally subject to an additional three years. The ban was eventually lifted for the 1990/91 season, while Liverpool’s ban ended the following season. By that point, English football was undergoing seismic changes, and that was triggered by yet another disaster, once again in Yorkshire, this time at one of the country’s most prestigious grounds.
15 April 1989 was FA Cup semi-finals day. Everton were facing Norwich City at Villa Park, and Liverpool were facing Nottingham Forest at Hillsborough. It was a sunny spring day, but as kick-off approached in South Yorkshire, little did we know that events that afternoon would change the face of English football – and the country – forever.
This isn’t the place to go into detail, but the actions and failings of the South Yorkshire police, Sheffield Wednesday Football Club and the local authorities led to the crush that caused the unlawful death of 97 Liverpool supporters, leaving hundreds more injured, traumatised, while many more subsequently took their own lives. And to add insult to injury, the police actively collaborated with the Thatcher government and sections of the mainstream press to enact a cover up and shift the blame for the disaster towards Liverpool supporters. It was one of the biggest miscarriages of justice in the country’s history, and a national disgrace that demonstrates exactly what the Establishment is capable of. Almost 36 years on, and no one has yet been prosecuted for their role in the Hillsborough Disaster.
In the years that followed Hillsborough, England’s footballing and economic landscape was transformed. The recommendations of the Taylor Report led to the introduction of all-seater stadia at football’s highest levels – leading to the loss of some of English football’s most historic grounds, stands and terraces – while the creation of the Premier League backed by Sky TV saw clubs court the middle-classes in pursuit of increased revenues to finance the wages of superstars. Over a period of 30 years or so, English football has become gentrified. It was the ultimate Thatcherite project.
Many clubs crashed and burned in the pursuit of the Premier League’s riches, while its attraction gave rise to a number of peculiarities. In 2003, Wimbledon – who had recently been relegated from the Premier League and who had been without a permanent home for over a decade – were bought by a consortium who pledged to relocate the club around 70 miles north to the Buckinghamshire New Town, Milton Keynes. Within a year, the name Wimbledon Football Club was no more, and the name Milton Keynes Dons was adopted, effectively English football’s first franchise. But the club’s support refused to go quietly into the night and formed AFC Wimbledon, who battled their way back into the Football League having started again at the very base of pyramid. The two clubs currently compete side-by-side in League Two.
As the profile of English football has rocketed around the world, nation states of dubious repute have become increasingly interested in the game’s soft power as a means to enhance their reputations, most notably at Chelsea during Russian oligarch Roman Abramovic’s reign, Manchester City through the investment of the Abu Dhabi United Group of the United Arab Emirates which has transformed the club and east Manchester, and most recently the takeover of Newcastle United backed by the Saudi Public Investment Fund that has big plans for the club and the city.
The Hillsborough Disaster and subsequent cover-up will be remembered as one of Britain’s greatest injustices.
Photo Credit: Liverpool FC