Advertisement

Why has Sheffield United’s leadership treated Maddy Cusack’s memory so callously?

Why has Sheffield United’s leadership treated Maddy Cusack’s memory so callously?
Why has Sheffield United’s leadership treated Maddy Cusack’s memory so callously?

How could they be so insensitive, so hard-faced, so unfeeling?

What has compelled Sheffield United — and this is just one example — to ignore the wishes of so many fans who wanted Maddy Cusack’s shirt to be retired? And why, having reached that decision, did they not even have the decency to inform her grieving family?

These are difficult questions to ask of the club when so many people connected with them have done everything they can to help Maddy’s family since that awful day in September 2023 when she died by suicide.

But this is directed to the people at the top of the club and goes beyond their decision, kept hidden from Maddy’s family, to reject a 1,200-name petition asking the club to retire her No 8 shirt. There is more to this story. Piecing together all the evidence, it is difficult to reach any conclusion other than the club, at its highest level, pulled down the shutters on Maddy’s family. For that, they should explain themselves.

What can be said with certainty is that the family have found it hurtful in the extreme. Yet the saddest thing, perhaps, is that the club’s decision not to retire Maddy’s shirt should come as no surprise to any of us who have seen a noticeable hardening of attitudes from the people who once championed Maddy as “Miss Sheffield United” and knew her as a marketing executive as well as the vice-captain and longest-serving player in the women’s team.

It was there for everyone to see during a vigil outside the stadium in September, marking the first anniversary since Maddy’s death, when it seemed barely conceivable that nobody from the club’s hierarchy had the decency to pop down from their offices and show their face.

Yet it goes much further back if you stop to consider that nobody senior from the club has checked in on Maddy’s family since a telephone call from the chief executive, Stephen Bettis, in December 2023.

Bettis talks a good game. The club wanted to remain in close contact, he told the family, and do everything they could to support the family and the charity foundation set up in Maddy’s name. And on and on.

They were hollow words, just as it has been obvious for some time that attitudes have changed dramatically since the club put out a statement that they were in “regular communication” with the family and offering them “full support”.

The truth is somewhat different. At boardroom level, communication has been cut. The club have not given a penny to the charity foundation set up in Maddy’s name. The club’s accounts don’t even follow it on social media. And now, almost by fluke, the family have found out the club have no intention of retiring Maddy’s shirt – a decision that would have remained a closely kept secret, it seems, but for it appearing in the minutes from a fan advisory board (FAB) meeting on November 7.

The decision, in other words, was taken months ago — and nobody from Bramall Lane thought it worthwhile to tell relatives, despite the family having publicly expressed support for the gesture through their Maddy Cusack Foundation.

Any reasonable person might find that incredible, and deeply depressing, given that these are the human touches that most people might have considered mandatory. And you may have to excuse me for wondering whether it is some kind of warped response to Maddy’s family demanding an inquiry to ascertain the reasons a previously happy 27-year-old took her own life.

Is the club’s position related in any way to the family putting in a complaint about Cusack’s alleged treatment from manager Jonathan Morgan? Is it because the club are not exactly thrilled that the family’s persistence has led to a Football Association investigation?

That question has been put directly to the club and, true to form, there has been no response. But these are relevant questions that merit some form of explanation. Why have they kept this decision from Maddy’s family? What has changed? And what do the club’s new American owners, Steven Rosen and Helmy Eltoukhy of COH Sports, make of this? How does it fit into their pledge, made at the time of the takeover, that “our fans will be at the heart of what COH stands for”?

The only response received by was this from a club spokesman: “The club has nothing further to add on this matter at this time.”

It is all so incredibly cold. And, if the relevant people cannot understand why the decision not to retire Maddy’s shirt is upsetting to so many people, there are all sorts of examples of football clubs losing players in tragic circumstances and honouring their memory this way.

Millwall, for example, announced the retirement of Matija Sarkic’s No 20 shirt within a few weeks of his death last year. Swansea City honoured Besian Idrizaj this way and, in the women’s game, AFC Fylde did the same for Zoe Tynan. The list goes on: West Ham with Dylan Tombides, Queens Park Rangers with Ray Jones and Manchester City with Marc-Vivien Foe, plus many others.

Other sports do the same. Other countries, too. And, in the majority of cases, it is usually announced within weeks of the player’s death.

As Nina Wilson, Maddy’s friend and former team-mate, says: “If the longest-serving player lost their life at any other club — while still playing there — the shirt would be retired immediately.”

Bettis and his boardroom colleagues think differently. His explanation in the FAB meeting is that “keeping the number in existence gives a reminder of who has worn it previously and keeps Maddy’s memory alive”.

How, though, is doing nothing more respectful? And, realistically, which player would want to take Maddy’s No 8 with this as the backdrop? That will be an interesting day next summer when the numbers are being handed out.

Bettis also made the rather dubious claim that retiring Maddy’s shirt number “would go against what has been done previously within the club following the passing of players”. Former players, he means — and what a shame that nobody, it seems, appears to have explained to him that this is the key point. Maddy, unlike the others, was still a United player at the time of her death.

This decision — and the way it has been kept from the family — feels typical, sadly, of the boardroom attitudes since Maddy’s family had the temerity to make it clear they were not going to accept the findings of an independent inquiry, commissioned by the club, that cleared Morgan of any wrongdoing.

Can an inquiry ever be described as truly “independent” if one of the interested parties has paid for it? It is a good question that perhaps we will save for another day. For now, though, it is enough to say there are legitimate issues about how everything panned out.

You may recall that the chief investigator, Dennis Shotton, a former detective representing a Sunderland-based company named Safecall, did not even spell Maddy’s first or second names correctly, introducing her as “Madeline Cussack”, as well as getting other names mixed up and referencing David Cusack, twice, as a company employee rather than, in fact, her father.

Against that backdrop, should it really be held against David and his wife, Deborah — supported by Maddy’s brother, Richard, and sisters, Olivia and Felicia — that they might want a more comprehensive piece of work?

Morgan has made it clear he denies playing any part in the deterioration of Maddy’s mental health. And, of course, he deserves a fair hearing. Nobody should jump to conclusions when a two-day inquest is planned for April and the FA has just delivered its report to the coroner.

Equally, any family in this position might have a few concerns after finding out the club employed Morgan even though Zoe Johnson, then United’s head of women’s football, warned everyone in the selection process that he “doesn’t have the greatest reputation”. And she wasn’t meaning his coaching.

The family are also now aware that, shortly after Maddy’s death, one of her former team-mates was offered a settlement with an NDA (non-disclosure agreement, a gagging clause, for all intents and purposes) preventing her from talking publicly about her own experiences at the club, including what she described as Morgan’s “bully-like behaviours”.

That player had warned the club, while Maddy was still alive, that “his (Morgan’s) clear disregard for player welfare could be dangerous to the mental health of other players”.

Chilling, isn’t it? She is forbidden, though, from speaking about it publicly. She could be sued if she breaks that agreement and, when I asked the club why they had inserted such a stipulation (some people might even call it ‘hush money’), their response was that “an NDA is a standard clause within any settlement agreement”.

What they meant, perhaps, was that it is commonplace among football clubs when it comes to suppressing any details that might raise awkward questions or create unwanted headlines. But it is certainly not mandatory. There are many employers, in fact, who regard DNAs as unethical when the main purpose for their existence is to save face and reputation.

What really needs to be emphasised here is that the family have received so much kindness and support from people in and around the club, and fans especially. New friendships and bonds have been made. Supporters held a minute’s applause before the men’s game against Derby County last September that marked the first anniversary of Maddy’s death. Flowers were placed outside the ground and what a beautiful moment it was when Gustavo Hamer, wearer of the men’s No 8 shirt, scored the winning goal and lifted up his shirt to reveal his “MC8” tribute.

So, going back to the original question, why have the people at the top of the club got it so badly wrong? Why the standoff? Why disappear on Maddy’s family? Why be so insensitive to their wishes that you cannot even bring yourself to retire the poor girl’s shirt while knowing — because they must, surely, know this — that nobody else on the women’s side will want it?

Kevin McCabe, the club’s former owner, brought out a book recently in which he describes Bettis, for unrelated reasons, as “a snake in the grass, a deceitful guy… a turncoat”. It would be nice to think that is untrue. It is just a crying shame, on a human level, that Bettis could not keep his word with the Cusack family. Given the circumstances, it really should not have been too much to expect.

This article originally appeared in The Athletic.

Sheffield United, Soccer, Championship, UK Women's Football

2025 The Athletic Media Company