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Match Details
Competition: UEFA Cup Third Round, First Leg,
Date: 23 November 1983
Stadium: City Ground, Nottingham,
Attendance: 32,000
Match Page: Link
I was there….
(By Hampden 57)
Can you set the scene?
The 1983-84 season was one of real frustration and unfulfilled promise for Celtic. It began with a sense of anti-climax caused by 3 factors: the loss of the title the previous May–a title we looked to have wrapped up on several occasions before eventually slumping in the run-in; the unexplained resignation of Billy McNeill as manager; and the departure of Charlie Nicholas to Arsenal.
It ended with a heartbreaking 10-man extra-time defeat to Aberdeen in the Scottish Cup Final, which followed on the heels of a feckless loss to a very poor Rangers team in the final of the League Cup, and a distant, second-place finish in the league, behind a dominant Aberdeen. But in between times there were a number of outstanding performances, which showed that under the new manager, Davie Hay, we were a good side and only a couple of players away from being an outstanding one.
Included here was the 2-leg, 1-0 aggregate victory over Aberdeen in the League Cup semi-final–matches that we dominated home and away–and the 5-0 crushing of Sporting Lisbon in the UEFA Cup 2nd round, a side that contained quite a few of the Portugese national team that would go onto play so well in the 1984 European Championships, and the midweek 3-0 thumping of Rangers in the league, the third win over them that season, a match dominated by the peerless Paul McStay, and one where the scoreline might have been doubled.
Another great performance came in the first leg of the UEFA Cup 3rd round away to Forest, but unfortunately, as we will see, this was a game that would be remembered by many Celtic fans who were there that freezing night in Nottingham for all the wrong reasons.
What was the build-up to the match like?
There was a lot of hype surrounding this game. Celtic had been blowing hot and cold all season but had ripped Sporting Lisbon apart in the previous round. The final score that night had been 5-0 but it had been 5 going on 15; an astonishing demolition of a very talented side.
Forest were a good side at the time. Clough had re-built the team following the departure of many of the players who had won them 2 European Cups at the turn of the decade. Anderson, Bowyer, Wallace and Birtles remained of that team but to them had been added young talents such as Chris Fairclough, Peter Davenport and Steve Hodge.
They were tactically astute and an outstanding counter-attacking side and had shown this when beating PSV Eindhoven home and away in the previous round. Most pundits found it a difficult one to call, but Forest were still generally regarded as favourites.
The Saturday before the Forest game also saw a horror show by Celtic at Love St, where we threw away a 2 goal lead and lost 4-2 to St Mirren. But at the same time, to those Celtic fans fortunate enough to have been at the Sporting Lisbon game 3 weeks earlier, there was a genuine belief that if we played to our best, then we could do it. Unusually for that era, the game was broadcast live on BBC TV and interest was huge nationwide.
What about the day of the game?
I was in my mid-teens at the time and travelled to the match with my dad and brother on our local Celtic Supporters bus, of which we were members. We left in the morning and I recall it as a very sunny day but freezing cold–the temperature didn't seem to get above freezing and by 3 o'clock was plummeting again.
After a few stops in various places and various pubs, we arrived in Nottingham around tea-time. By this stage it was pitch dark and very cold. I remember our bus pulling into a garage just as we got to Nottingham, and being met by a few very unfriendly police, who told us that Celtic fans had 'wrecked' the town and that we were not allowed to get out of the bus. In actual fact, the Chief of Police in the city would later praise the fans for their great conduct at all times but that little incident was revealing, in that it showed the attitude of some of the police who were on duty that night.
What was the atmosphere like outside the ground?
We reached the city ground just after 6 o'clock, well before the kick-off time of 7.30. Even at that early stage there were huge numbers of Celtic fans outside–it seemed much more than the 6000 or so that had been estimated would travel. Our tickets were for the end behind the goal and there were massive queues outside the main admission gate. It seemed to take forever for people to get in, and all the while the crowd was getting bigger. It was obvious at this stage that the police were not able to deal with the situation, as crushes were beginning to develop in the queues. Finally, we got in around 15 minutes or so before the match started, but there were several hundred still outside, maybe more. I remember looking at the pitch and half of it was completely frozen and looked unplayable, with the other half, which had obviously got some sun that day, looking playable. I was surprised they let the match go on, but I suppose by that stage it too late to call it off.
What was the situation by kick-off time?
It was very bad. Many English football grounds at that time had pens, which sub-divided terraces into small, self-contained sections, divided by high fences. The pens had gates, but very few people could pass from one pen to another at any given time. We were in the corner pen, which is the one you went into after passing through the turnstyles. It was by this stage jam packed, but there didn't seem to be any awareness among stewards or the police, and no attempt to open up the gates across all of the pens to allow the fans to filter through more evenly.
So, the game kicked off–what happened next?
By kick-off time, the corner pen where I was standing was full, as was the adjoining pen. You could hardly see the park, because there were so many people in the end. But more and more people kept pouring into that corner pen. I have never been in such a packed, small, contained area with so many people. After a few minutes of the game, severe crushing had started. We were about half-way down the terrace, but were getting pushed by this mass pressure closer and closer to the front. You didn't so much walk as get swept along.
The game itself kicked off and Celtic appeared a touch nervous. Forest settled and almost scored when Gary Birtles ran onto a long ball that evaded the Celtic defence. He should have scored but Packie Bonner made a great save. However, right after this, there were some huge surges of people into the pen with the fans at the front getting trapped against the high perimeter fences. It was really terrifying, as you had absolutely no control over it. You couldn't get out of the way, or move somewhere else. It was hard to breathe, never mind move. I had been in crush type situations before in Scotland–normally when you were leaving big matches– but nothing I had ever experienced before or after would come close to this. I saw one or two people falling and it seemed certain there would be some serious casualties. Then, all of a sudden, lots of the fans started climbing over the high fence onto the pitch. Before long it seemed that hundreds were doing this. Some where also climbing into the next pen. A few even shinnied up the floodlights. This had the effect of relieving the pressure a bit on those left in the pen. But there was no question of those fans coming back into the pens, so the game was delayed, for about 15 minutes.
What did the stewards and police do?
Very little in a constructive way at first. They seemed to just watch people pour onto the field and were not helpful. They appeared to see it as a crowd control issue, rather than a disaster in the making. I remember Brian Clough coming onto the field with a flag, presumably to please the 'rioting' Celtic fans. It was ridiculous, really, as no-one had grasped the gravity of the situation. Eventually, after what seemed an age, the police ferried fans around to different parts of the ground, and the game re-started.
What happened after that?
Me and my dad moved up to the back of the terrace, where it was slightly less crowded by this stage, although still jam-packed by any normal standards. It was safer and from there we watched the rest of the match. After the re-start, Celtic played much better and controlled the midfield for long spells, with McStay and Burns especially impressive. Danny McGrain was also brilliant that night. Forest found it very difficult, and Celtic came close to scoring on several occasions–Aitken almost caight out the keeper with a 35 yard shot that he only just beat away, Burns almost found the back of the net with a 25 yarder that scraped the bar, and, then, right in the last minute, Paul McStay, the best player on the pitch, blazed one over from around 12 yards with the whole goal at his mercy. But to be honest, I couldn't see a lot of what was happening, as my view was so restricted with the amount of people still in that pen. We got back onto the supporters bus ok, but learned from others on it what had happened. Basically, in order to clear the huge crowd outside, the police had opened up the exit gates and allowed a massive flood of fans into the ground, all of whom were shoe-horned onto that corner pen. We were already inside when that happened but that explained the massive surge of people into the pen around kick-off time. There were quite a few people on our bus who still had their full tickets. The general view among other fans at the game was that we should have won, but many were so shaken by what had happened that they had little interest in the result. Regards the second leg- we knew that Forest were very dangerous and that it would take a special show by us to knock them out. In the event, they played much better in Glasgow and got a 2-1 win, which they deserved.
And your reflections on the whole event?
There is no doubt that what happened that night was a staging post on the road to Hillsbrough. All of the problems that we saw in that terrible disaster were evident at the City Ground that night. Inadequate stewarding, useless police, and a death trap of a stadium. The only reason there were no deaths that night is that, unlike Hillsbrough, the huge fences at the front were not boxed in, so the fans could scale them. Other than that, many would have been killed. The inadequate entrance systems, the pens and the high fences in between each small section of the terrace in the English grounds were lethal. If you want to know why a Hillsbrough type disaster didn't happen in Scotland–and Ibrox 1971 was a totally different type of disaster, caused by an inadequate staircase–it is because grounds in Scotland didn't have those pens. In Celtic Park, for example, you could walk all the way from the Rangers end of the Jungle, to the far corner of the Celtic end, next to the stand. Certainly, things were far from perfect at our old ground– the exit gates could have been better, and at times you did get caught up in crushes, but it was nothing like the situation in English grounds. Those pens were death traps and should have been dismantled. If they had been, then I believe that we still might have terraced football grounds in this country.
As it was, the lessons of the City Ground that night in November 1983 went unlearnt, and the warnings went unheeded.
And the people who would ultimately pay with their lives for this negligence were the 96 who died at Hillsbrough in 1989
(Notts Forest Supporter)
from : http://www.ltlf.co.uk/2010/03/matchday-memories-forest-celtic-uefa-cup-1983/
Matchday Memories: Forest v Celtic, 1983
by Alex Ottway, Thursday, March 11, 2010
Latest history
Aaah…Celtic…UEFA Cup, November 1983.
First up, I was 13 at the time, and had to change buses to get to school, having to cross the Old Market Square every morning.
A bitterly cold November Monday morning sees me crossing what would normally be a deserted Square…except that this Monday morning it was largely populated with scantily-clad Scottish blokes, who stood, dwarfed by stacks of alcoholic 6-packs that they’d procured.
A quick chat revealed that it was their intention to drink all the ale, then get more if needed (probably by Monday afternoon, by the look of some of them!).
The Tuesday was colder still, and, against school rules, yours truly crossed the Market Square proudly wearing my Forest Scarf of the day. Much good-natured banter and good-humoured abuse was exchanged, and the stacks of beer had been replaced, and were being consumed apace, even at 8am.
Back in those days, we didn’t have under-soil heating, and when the weather gets cold, the City Ground pitch used to freeze. With the angle of the sun, and the bitterly cold temperatures, the Main Stand side of the pitch remains in shadow, and this year, that side of the pitch was solidly frozen.
By Wednesday, even colder, pitch frozen hard, and god alone knows how many thousand Celtic fans had descended upon the City, hell bent on drinking the place dry, and having a good time doing it, and largely succeeding!
Any other game would have been postponed I’m certain…but I think the logistics of appeasing many thousand drunken Scotsmen forced them to play…
So it’s dark, it’s freezing, and walking down Pavilion Road, I’ve never heard an atmosphere like it at any time before or since. Think about the best you ever remember it when we’ve stolen a game with a last gasp goal – like the Bristol City game (OMFGDexterBlackstockOMG!), when we stole the game with the last kick – and you walk out the ground, euphoric…
It was better than that. The words “A real buzz of excitement” doesn’t do it justice…Fans of both sides mingling completely, with all hopes of segregation out of the window, as tickets were begged, bought, swapped (doubtless a few nicked as well, but who knows)…People were walking in directions that you don’t normally see on a matchday. It was good natured excited chaos, that I’ve noot seen on Trentside at any other time.
Enter the ground, and the Celtic fans had been allocated all the Executive Stand Brian Clough Lower Tier, the corner pen of the old Bridgford Terrace and the next 3 blocks along. No empty neutral section – they sold the ground out completely. Looking at the standing crowd, there was a gentle gradation of green-and-white giving way to red as fans mixed completely in the terraces.
It was a cold, cold night, (about minus 5) with a biting wind off the Trent, (wind chill about minus 20), and the most astonishing thing is there’s about 20 Celtic fans climbing the floodlight pylon, not out of malice, but to get a better view. The astonishing part is they’re wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts. Absolute loonies!
Assorted pleas from the Tannoy Man to get down for safety’s sake were largely ignored, and indeed spurred others to follow. Finding the floodlight full, they shinned up the old Scoreboard, and there were about 20 of them sat across the top of the scoreboard, swinging their legs back and forth, oblivious of or not caring about the 50 foot drop off the back onto Colwick Road…
It was at this time that the old scoreboard started misbehaving, and it was never right after. I think they killed it…and it remained misfiring until the demolition of the Bridgford terrace many years later.
The game progresses, there’s no score. As was a (fairly) regular occurrence in packed standing areas, someone fainted/passed out in the Celtic corner. In true ‘packed terrace’ style, the unconscious bod was lifted up, and passed down over people’s heads, and down to the fence at the front (remember, this was before Hillsborough – standing fans were penned in the world over). As the gate at the front was opened, a Celtic forward struck a shot that just cleared the Trent End goal crossbar.
The usual ‘Oooooh!!!’ was followed by the usual surge forward [this was what killed so many people in Sheffield 6 years later], but the surge corresponded with the opening of the gate at the front….
About 100 people…exploded…out of the gate ( I can’t think of any other word to describe it – it was so much more spectacular than a ‘pop’!), and spilled over the shale perimeter track, and onto the pitch.
Unfortunately, owing to the ballistic nature of their progress out of the fenced area, there were a number of serious injuries sustained, broken arms, broken legs etc, and the game was stopped, while the casualties were dealt with.
This took a long time, however, and the referee made several interventions, and tried to restart the game, but without success, such was the chaos! The ref threatened to abandon the game if the pitch wasn’t cleared ‘in 10 minutes’…but (I presume) a few words from a stressed local Police Force persuaded him to be patient, and let the game resume…which it did.
On the pitch, not much to talk about to be honest…it finished 0-0.
After the final whistle…the ground (well, the forest fans) pretty much cleared, and I am waiting for Flagman’s Dad, who was sitting elsewhere in the Main Stand. I stood up and held my Forest scarf above my head for a few seconds, at which point my Dad appeared next to me.
I looked back across to the Executive Stand, and the Away Terrace, and was greeted by the amazing spectacle of every single Celtic fan standing silently holding their scarves above their heads, as if in response to my gesture. A truly truly amazing, humbling, awe-inspiring demonstration of loyal fans.
Fantastic memories…
Without question, the best atmosphere, the best travelling support and the best one-off matchday memory I’ve had in Nottingham.
Ever.