Very nearly our own Hillsborough



Don't you just love the bovver gear on the guy fifth
 from the right on the roof.




I visited Dalymount Park in September to watch the Blues Under 19’s defeat the hosts by three goals to two in the U-19 Elite Division of the League of Ireland. I’ hadn’t been there for a few years, certainly not since the Bo-is got into financial troubles having tried unsuccessfully to cash in on the Celtic Tiger property boom.

While their failed attempts to sell their main asset lamentably did them irreparable damage as a club, it did however guarantee the continuing survival of one the true bastions of Irish soccer, the Phibsboro edifice that is Dalymount Park.

Anyone remotely involved with Irish soccer has been touched by the ugliness and the beauty of “Dalyer”. Home to the FAI Cup Finals until 1990 and Ireland internationals until 1977 (with exceptions of Italy and Russia in 1972, and Switzerland in 1975 – all at Lansdowne), and nestled among the terraced streets in Phibsboro it has a place in Irish sporting folklore which will never diminish.

I have several memories of the ground, some of which we all share. In chronological order:

• The FAI Cup Final of 1972 with my father engaging in a heated argument with another spectator who wouldn’t give the ball back
• Watching in sheer amazement as Ireland beat Russia 3-0 in 1973 with Givens bagging the hat-trick. Accompanied at that match, on a Wednesday afternoon in fifth year, by Brusselsblue and Chelski I believe.
• The successive semi-finals of 1978 and 1979 against Rovers, a 2-1 defeat avenged a year later with a victory by the same scoreline. In the latter game, Syd Wallace hanging from the railings having scored the winner with two minutes to go.
• Allow me the brevity, but Art McCooey’s paper hat at the 1978 final has got to go down as one of Dalymount’s memorable moments.
• Breaking down the gates before the Waterford St Pats game in 1980, our last cup-winning year.
• Winning 2-1 against nomadic Rovers in the 2005 relegation play-off to stay up while consigning them to the First Division for the first time ever.

Superb memories indeed.

I return to the description of Dalymount nestled in the narrow terraced streets of Phibsboro. Remembering the crush at various games, and the shale incline behind the terraces at the Shed End, it is remarkable that there was not a major disaster of the type that occurred at Hillsboro or Heysel.

The Irish Independent recalls a night when apparently the stadium came closest to achieving notoriety for all the wrong reasons.

Tuesday February 5, 1985, Ireland v Italy Friendly.

Ireland has been at the wrong end of recent results, crowds for their games had dwindled and consequently an attendance of 20,000 was anticipated and planned for. Perhaps they underestimated the attraction of the Italian team.

They were World Cup holders, the aristocrats of the world game, and had only played the Republic four times prior to this fixture -- in Turin and Dublin in 1926 and '27 respectively, and in 1970 (Florence) and '71 (Dublin) in European Championship fixtures. January was a harsh month of arctic weather, causing a number of postponements in Ireland and England in many sports. In Dublin, the Ireland v England rugby game fixed for Lansdowne Road on January 19 was called off early on the morning of the match. The sporting public’s appetite for a major fixture was strong.

At 6.00pm Phibsboro and its environs were full of the usual traffic – the teams arrived twenty minutes later, their coaches flanked by Garda motorcycle outriders. Eoin Hand, the Irish manager reflects: "We got in a bit later than usual because we were in our gear. The crowds were fairly big but at the time we got in it didn't look anything unusual."

By 6.45pm the Gardai realised that instead of the 20,000 expected, there was a much greater surge in numbers around the ground. People were getting anxious. It took time to pay cash at the turnstiles. All entrances to the ground were -- and are -- by narrow lanes and on the Connaught Street side there was further confusion. Some turnstiles had been bricked up because Bohs -- and the FAI -- had not been faced with anything like capacity crowds for a long time.

At 7.00pm pressure at the turnstiles was mounting. Crowds were pushing those in front, the narrow entrances were too tight for the huge throngs that were now turning up. Gardai had 115 men on duty, 50 of them inside the ground. The FAI had 80 stewards and 10 supervisors.

At 7.15pm and with as estimated 10,000 people still to get in, a decision was made to put back the kick-off to 7.45, a delay of 15 minutes. Inside the ground there were rumours there was pandemonium outside, and almost simultaneously a wave of movement ensued and a mass of people began emerging onto the pitch. What had actually happened was that the Gardai had ordered the gates be opened to relieve the pressure and fans flooded into the ground. Those on the pitch had been let through by the Gardai at a point where the security fence was opened up to cater for pitch-side TV cameras. The mistakes made at Hillsboro did not occur at Dalymount.

By 7.40pm people were banked along the sidelines. The Tallaght Band, waiting to play the National Anthem, was surrounded by folk wandering around them. The red carpet laid out for President Hillery was trodden underfoot. Players warmed up on the pitch, not believing their eyes. Hand went to his bench, as did Bearzot to find fans sitting there. "Can I sit down, please?" said Hand as he ushered in his backroom men and subs. The Italians and Irish players were bemused but went with the flow. That said, Frank Stapleton's abiding memory of the game is: "How there wasn't a disaster that night is beyond me."

The fans settled down, although around 800 of the estimated 40,000 attendance stayed by the touchlines for the duration. The referee finally got the game going just after 7.45pm.  This classic photo of the stand at the Shed End gives an indication of how thronged conditions must have been.

And so thankfully, Dalymount Park did not become renowned for disaster, in the way that Hillsboro, Ibrox and Heysel have. Some strong decision making by the Gardai, the co-operation of the public and a bit of luck prevented Feb 5th, 1985 become famous for all the wrong reasons.

Ireland lost the match 2-1 Altobelli and Rossi scoring for the Italians with Gary Waddock replying for the Irish. The game also marked Ooh, ah Paul McGrath’s debut for Ireland a substitute after ten minutes for the injured Mark Lawrenson.

Ireland: Bonner (Celtic ); Hughton (Spurs), Lawrenson (Liverpool), McCarthy (Man City), Beglin (Liverpool); Waddock (QPR), Sheedy (Everton), Brady (Inter Milan), Galvin (Spurs); Stapleton (Man Utd), Byrne (QPR).

Italy: Tancredi; Bagni, Vierchowod, Scirea, Bergomi, Cabrini; Conti, Tardelli, Di Gennaro, Rossi, Altobelli.

Hill 16 has never seen the likes of Heffo's Army



The official boys in blue move in on Hill 16 to restore calm















The passing of Kevin Heffernan brings us back to a different era, and the only time I willingly crossed the divide that exists in our country between the codes of Association Football and Gaelic Football. Both names capitalised in the interest of impartiality.

Since 1983, when Chelski and I joined Heffo’s army for a brief sojourn my distaste for the GAA and its negative impact on Irish society has intensified, and by my own admission, at times now borders on the irrational.

But I’m not going to dwell on that paranoid aspect of my psyche, rather I’m going to reminisce on the glorious summer of 1983 when the Dubs were going through a revival which ultimately culminated in a defeat of Galway on a very un-summery Sunday afternoon at Croke Park in mid September. Of that match, I remember the driving rain, the dangerous throngs at the Canal End and the revelation in learning we (the Dubs) had three men sent off rather than two. Two players (one from each team) had been sent off immediately before the half-time whistle and in driving rain we had missed their departure.

Dublin finished the Game of Shame with twelve men and Galway with fourteen.

The summer of ’83 was hot, we were free from exam pressures, a few bob in our pockets, and  Culture Club and Spandau Ballet on the radio driving us forward with an air of confidence we haven’t recaptured since.

With no World Cups or European Championships to distract us, the antics and heroics of Joe McNally and Jimmy Keaveney (the Weapon) – both moulded out of the same oversized cast – caught our imagination and together with our devoted “moths”, we joined the already over-populated bandwagon that was the Dubs in flight.

Memorable trips to Croke Park – sitting on the perimeter wall at the Canal End with a two hundred foot drop behind us springs to mind – interspersed with an away game at Pairc Ui Chaoimh in Cork where the Rebels were ruthlessly, efficiently, and to their absolute surprise, put to the sword by 4-15 to 2-10. Call that a stuffing or what?



The concern on Marie's face was less to dfo with the drop on the other side of the wall, and more to do with being left aone with a bunch of half-naked Dubs.




What was it that caught our interest, none of us with roots from the city or with any great love of the game? The feeling of community? The power and euphoria of victory and involvement? The money and time in our pockets? Who knows which but I know it was good and looking back I have too admit that my one incursion onto “the dark side” is filled with strong and vibrant memories.

To the extent you gave us that, thanks a million Heffo, and good luck on the other side yourself.

Away trip to Cork - Boomtown Rats style

This one's for Mise le Meas

The best way to deal with adversity is to tackle it face on, as Gareth Bale is seen to be doing in the photo above.  Accept your defeat and move on.

Well done to Leeds, the romance of the Cup is still alive and best of luck at the Itihad in the next round. 

For Spurs, the old cliche - at least that distraction is out of the way and so to the pursuit of the Champions League 4th place spot.  

I'd fly over Trinity tomorrow and....

While the last post referred to events we witnessed from afar (Amsterdam; Germany) this report now copied below recounts the activities at a sequence of events we participated in.

During the Rag Week Storming of the Trinity Bastille in 1977, I gazed down at the events from the snooker room in Trinity and hoped, in the event that the mob reached that area, that I would be able to explain that I was actually "one of their own".  My dilemma never ultimately occurred and I  watched with delight as the boys from the country, who had their lunch at midday, gave one to the ill-prepared defenders of the last educational bastion of the British Empire.  Pride, go for it boys, pride.

Quote:

UCD Rag Week hit the headlines again in 1976 when hundreds of students ran riot through the centre of Dublin. Traffic was severely disrupted when “several hundred undergraduates … congregated at the top of Grafton Street”. The first garda called on the scene was pelted with eggs and flowers and was forced to retreat. The assistant manager of the Ambassador Cinema on O’Connell Street rang the UCD Students’ Union to complain about what he called the “disgraceful” behaviour of students who tried to force their way into the cinema without paying. UCD students also jumped into the River Liffey en masse.

Later that evening, a group of students from Bolton Street College of Technology telephoned The Irish Independent and claimed that they had kidnapped the organiser of the UCD Rag Week, Mr. Billy McGrath “in retaliation for their attack on Bolton Street”. ‘Captain Blue’, a spokesperson for the Bolton St. students demanded back the College clock which they accused UCD students of stealing. They were also requested a barrel of Guinness and a £10 donation to a charity of the Irish Independent’s choice.

In February 1977 as part of Rag Week celebrations, over one hundred UCD students invaded Trinity College, the College of Surgeons and Kevin Street College causing £3,200 worth of damage.

Newspaper reports describe how the UCD students “scaled the walls of Trinity by rope” after the gates were closed to them

Once inside, the UCD mob used a car belonging to a member of TCD staff as a battering ram to get into the Museum building. They also stole a large notice from the college entrance. A Kevin Street College of Technology laboratory was also damaged during the rampage. Eamon Gilmore, current Labour Party president and the then president of the Union of Students in Ireland (USI), blamed the trouble on a “fringe hooligan” element who he said should be identified and made to pay the bill for the damages they cost.
Condemnation came from various circles in society including the Irish Housewives’ Association. Charles McNally, the then UCDSU president announced, that the Union had voted for fundamental changes to the College’s Rag Week, in future “it would be a Community Week devoted to helping the community and city centre forways would be banned”

The Rag Week pranks and “high jinks” of UCD which were a staple annual event are now just a distant memory. Who knows if they’ll ever return?

Belfield Punk Festival 1977

Sitting upstairs in the relatively quiet main canteen in Belfield today, it’s hard to imagine it as the scene of an event that altered the Irish music industry forever.

 In the summer of 1977, Belfield Canteen was host to Ireland’s first ever Punk Festival. During the gig, a fight broke out in which an eighteen year old youth was stabbed to death.

The concert, billed as the ‘Belfield Festival’, saw the cream of the crop of Ireland’s emerging punk and new wave talent.  Headlining were The Radiators from Space, a Dublin-based punk band fronted by Philip Chevron who later became lead guitarist with The Pogues. Their debut single Television Screen, released in April of that year made history by becoming the first punk single to make the Top Twenty anywhere in the world.

Next on the bill were Derry’s power-pop Punk legends; The Undertones who released their classic hit Teenage Kicks a few months after the gig.  Supporting were The Vipers, a Dublin punk and rhythm and blues band who had supported The Clash in their second Irish visit. Brian Foley, the band’s bassist later joined Paul Cleary’s power pop, mod influenced Dublin group, The Blades.

The next band on the line-up was Revolver, a prominent group on the late 1970s Dublin Punk scene. Their first demo, Bombscare Thoroughfare, was recorded in “a shopping centre in Crumlin” The band never made the breakthrough they wanted and broke up in late 1979.

The final band was The Gamblers, a group whose main claim to fame was that U2 supported them in The Project Arts Centre in May 1978.

According to Mark Perry, music journalist and founder of the UK’s first punk fanzine Sniffin’ Glue, “the show attracted over 600 fans – an unprecedented figure”. The Irish Times put the figure at closer to 800. Perry is quoted as saying that ten minutes after the first band had started, a scuffle broke out in front of the stage, which, according to The Irish Times involved “about eight or nine people”. Michael Bradley, bassist from The Undertones, recalls that the fight was “over very quickly and the band played on”. Suddenly though, as Perry recalls, “the news crawled out on all fours – somebody (had) been stabbed”. An ambulance was called to take the injured man away. The show continued, albeit with a tenser atmosphere.

Shortly before The Radiators from Space were due on stage, their guitarist was surrounded by four bouncers and bundled into the dressing room. Rumours abounded that the individual who was stabbed was in a pretty bad way and someone had got the wrong impression that Pete Holidai from The Radiators had been involved in the fight. After “rough questioning”, he was allowed to go on stage with the band. During their set, the police arrived, stationed officers at all exits of the canteen and prevented the band from playing an encore. It was almost three o’clock in the morning. No one in the crowd was allowed to leave without showing identification and getting searched. The five bands were all forced into one dressing room where they gave written statements. At this point, word had gone around that the victim was in a critical condition in St. Vincent’s Hospital. An hour later news spread that the boy had died. The police finally allowed the bands to leave at 6.30am that morning.

The dead youth was indentified as Patrick Coultry, an eighteen year old from Cabra in North Dublin who suffered two stab wounds during the fracas.  The boy who killed him was only seventeen. Charged with manslaughter, he said in court that he “panicked during the row as he felt he was going to get beat up”. He also admitted that he had drunk excessively that evening.

The killing had an immediate effect on the music industry in Ireland. John Fisher, gig promoter at the time, remembers that before the stabbing “gigs in Ireland were pretty simple affairs, really. They were run mostly by enthusiastic amateurs with very little security … after Belfield, it became more regulated, more professional and safer”.

After the Punk Festival, the college authorities banned all gigs in Belfield for weeks after. This directly affected the Students Union which lost a much-needed income. The Radiators from Space found their gigs cancelled by promoters all over the country. The tabloid press wrote sensational, often fabricated stories on the inherent violent nature of punk rock.

For the musicians it proved to be long lasting emotional event as members of The Radiators from Space refused to talk about the night for years after, The Undertones, traumatised by the incident, didn’t play a gig outside the North of Ireland for over eighteen months. Gavin Friday, lead singer with The Virgin Prunes recalls the night’s significance – “I think that was the first murder at a rock gig in the British Isles”. As a result, music promoters found it much more difficult to organise gigs with the increased expenses of extra security and the personal insurance premiums.

It was a night that was formative in changing the face of the Irish music industry forever. Just how many students sipping their coffee in the canteen today know of the tragedy that took place a few feet away from they are sitting?   It’s true hidden history.  

From http://ucdhiddenhistory.wordpress.com/

Get up, you little prick

Motion:

“That this house believes Eden Hazard’s kicking of the Swansea ball-boy brings Chelsea Football Club to a new low and goes far beyond the realms of tolerable behaviour for an institution with their influence”

While many believe that the ball-boy’s antics were cynical and deliberate, and that he deserved what he got, there is a larger groundswell of opinion that suggest this incident would not have occurred at any other club than Chelsea. The house will debate whether the standards of behaviour at this once-great club have plummeted uncontrollably since the arrival of Roman Abrahamovic.

For the motion – Brusselsblue, SSD Belgium
Against the motion – Chelski, EFC Dublin

Debate will be structured in written form in speeches not to exceed 200 words.

Poetry - If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream-and not make dreams your master,
If you can think-and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
 Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on! '

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings-nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And-which is more-you'll be a Man, my son!