Sports fans forget rivalry and differences in the face of tragedy and adversity

Sports fans deserve credit for the way they react to tragedy and adversity. Andy Mitten looks back on examples of moments differences were put to one side.

England fans deserved their positive press this week, with Wembley’s scenes of solidarity with France making front pages around the world.

England fans have been hammered for their behaviour in the past, often with justification when they’ve rampaged through the streets of Dusseldorf or kicked off in Dublin. Or when a small section began whistling and booing during a minute’s silence for the 50th anniversary of the Munich air crash before England’s 2008 friendly against Switzerland.

The FA initially refused United’s request but revoked it after protest. The referee blew for an end to the silence after 32 seconds because of the disruption. It reflected some of the difficulties when a club’s tragedy is expected to become national one.

Football fans don’t always help themselves, though it only takes one idiot to ruin one of the many silences, one fool online to post something they shouldn’t. Idiots on the other side then use it as justification that all fellow fans must somehow be ‘scum’. It’s the fuel that some search for to justify their hatred.

So because a few Manchester United fans hold up an ‘Istanbul Reds’ banner at Elland Road after two Leeds fans lost their lives in Turkey’s capital, that makes all United fans scum. Or because a few hundred Leeds fans disrupted the minute’s silence after Matt Busby’s death, there’s a warped consenus that everyone who steps through the turnstiles at Elland Road is some kind of sub-species.

Yet football can surprise, especially after disasters. For every hate-filled reactionary, there are hundreds and thousands more who know right from wrong, who are capable of showing solidarity and empathy, of making our hairs stand up, even when it involves their great foes.

Like when 3,000 Everton fans visited Old Trafford following the death of legendary United manager Sir Matt Busby in 1994 and stood in absolute silence as a lone Scottish piper walked out onto the field.

Or when Manchester City fans behaved in a similarly impeccable manner during the 2008 Manchester derby, which coincided with the 50th anniversary of the Munich Air disaster. Before that game, you couldn’t find a single person in Manchester who thought the silence would be observed. They pointed out that a number of City fans had sung about Munich for decades. Sceptics were absolutely certain that City fans wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

The internet buzzed with plans, rumours and conjecture. You sensed that some United fans would have liked the silence to be wrecked so that they could point the finger sanctimoniously. There was nervousness on the City part too, with some fans asking for a minute’s applause, so that the silence couldn’t be hijacked. Or a silence after the game rather than before it.

Thankfully, none of this happened. City fans observed the tribute impeccably. This was City’s hardcore, the Blues who went home and away. I was sitting less than 50 metres away from them and the Reds nearby in K Stand, who have indulged in plenty of anti-City songs, stood and applauded the travelling Blues for their respect. They then roared their own team on in anticipation of victory. Except it was City who triumphed – and deserved to do so.

Death can bring the best out of fans. It can dissipate hate and reaffirm respect and perspective. Manchester is more reserved than Liverpool, but respect is afforded to those who have passed on and it has always been so.

The Munich air disaster was one of the biggest tragedies to hit English football. It decimated the finest young team in England, yet in the immediate aftermath United were inundated with offers of help from their great rivals.

On the 8th February 1958, two days after Munich, City’s players wore black armbands and a minute’s silence was held as a mark of respect to those who had perished in Germany.

Their first programme after the crash featured tribute after tribute with the City chairman Alan Douglas writing: “For many, many years, there has existed a rivalry between the two clubs, but just as we at Maine Road have rejoiced in United’s many triumphs, so now we share their sorrow. I would assure Harold Hardman, the chairman of Manchester United, and all associated with Manchester United, that while the blow they have received is a cruel one, it is not a knock out, and we at Manchester City are convinced that United will recover…if we can do anything to help them in any way, however small, to achieve that objective, we shall regard it as a privilege to do it.”

That’s completely at odds with the minority of City fans who, for decades, have simply called United ‘Munich’.

Liverpool and United fans have a complicated history, yet in 2012, United fans applauded as a tribute was read out to the Hillsborough families. On that day, Ryan Giggs and Steven Gerrard released 96 balloons in memory of the victims, and Sir Bobby Charlton, who was warmly greeted when he arrived at Anfield, presented flowers to Liverpool legend Ian Rush.

Even the most bitter rivalries are capable of moments of compassion. PSG and Marseille fans largely despise each other, yet after Friday’s attacks in the French capital, Marseille fans unfurled a banner saying ‘We are Paris’.

It’s not only in football that a sport unites in tragedy. Italian cyclist, Fabio Cazitelli, 24, crashed and died on the Col de Portet d’Aspet during the 15th stage of the 1995 Tour de France. The other cyclists refused to race the next day, instead cycling the stage but not racing. They let Cazitelli’s Motorola’s team-mates take the lead and cross the line together.

In cricket, the Australian opening batsman Phillip Hughes died aged 25 in 2014. He was playing in a game between New South Wales and South Australia at the Sydney Cricket Ground when he was struck in the neck by a ball. He was wearing a helmet, but the ball hit an unprotected area.

The test series which was due to start the following week was delayed to allow players to pay their respects at his hugely emotional funeral. Around the globe, cricketers and sports fans left their cricket bats outside their houses as a tribute.

Sport can bring out the best in people. In 1964, the Italian bobsledder Eugenio Monte realised that his British rivals had broken a bolt on their sled. He lent them his own axle. The Brits then won the gold medal while Monte and his partner took bronze.

In the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, the British runner Derek Redmond hoped to make up for missing the 1988 Games because of injury. In the 400 metres semi-final, Redmond started well before tearing his hamstring after 150 metres.

The 1991 world champion fell to the ground and stretcher-bearers came to his aid. Redmond, his Olympic dream and his career also effectively over, was determined to continue the race. In agony and tears, the Brit got up and carried on limping. He actually believed he could overtake some of the other competitors.

He struggled to go on alone but a large figure barged past security and ran onto the track.

“I’m here, son,” his father Jim said. “You don’t have to do this, it might heal in time to do the relays.”

“I do,” replied his son.

“Well, then we do it together.”

To a standing ovation from the 55,000 crowd in Montjuic, they completed the lap, Derek leaning on his father’s shoulder for support. As he was helped by his father, he was officially disqualified from the race and Olympic records state that Redmond “Did Not Finish”. But the world knows that he and his father did.