Three years ago, four members of our regular Anfield match-going crew travelled to Madrid for the Tottenham Champions League final without tickets - but it will always be remembered as the trip of a lifetime.
We rocked up to the Wanda Metropolitano stadium on the morning of the game to take pictures and soak in the atmosphere. But, ultimately, we could get nowhere near the turnstiles due to the perimeter set up around the ground - the operation was slick. A far cry from the events at the Stade de France.
This time five of us travelled without tickets as we aimed to repeat our Madrid plan. But I was woken up by a phone call from one of my best friends who, due to a flight cancellation, had a spare ticket. A ticket for me. My first European final.
We arrived at the Stade de France at around 12pm for pictures and noticed 200 French police officers armed with high-calibre rifles marching fans down the entry ramp and away from the stadium. There would be no access to the stadium without a valid match ticket, even nine hours prior to kick-off. My dad even predicted entry to the game would be smooth given how well drilled it seemed.
I met up with my pal three hours before kick-off, it was at this point we had our first experience of bottlenecking by the French police. Officers were periodically stopping Liverpool fans at various points on the way to the stadium for prolonged periods. Some fans became restless at the delays as a French officer told us the stops were due to there being too many ahead.
We eventually navigated our way past two further stops until we reached the main roads that run parallel to the stadium. It was manic. Police guarded access via a closed road, forcing fans into the seemingly never ending stream of supporters which funnelled into an even tighter gap by two police vans.
After barely moving for over an hour, it was close to kick-off time. Fans had become increasingly restless at the thought of missing the game altogether. “What the f****** hell is this?” was the chant from the crowd, as a group of supporters posed: “Imagine how bad it will be even further back as we get closer to kick-off”.
This is when videos of Liverpool fans jumping the wall were shared on social media. Rival supporters tried to point blame on Liverpool fans but this was a desperate act to avoid a crush - not to gain entry to the match. Eventually we moved at a faster pace and reached the point where I had seen those 200 police officers nine hours earlier.
Except there was no check this time. Anyone could gain access to the concourse - fans with tickets, fans without tickets and hundreds of Paris locals. My friend and I required access to the opposite side of the stadium but were told we could only enter from the right. The left was closed.
Shortly after, the chaos began. As we attempted to make our way to blocks Y, Z, A and B, we hit a standstill. “You aren’t going anywhere, they aren’t letting anyone in,” shouted one fan trying to stop people pushing through the crowd to find their gate. “We can’t go back now either,” someone yelled in response. More fans were being forced into the same situation and I was overwhelmed with a genuine fear for my safety as the situation grew increasingly worse.
A young Liverpool fan who was later identified on Twitter as Kirk, jumped one of the outer fences and onto an ambulance parked outside. “Women and children, women and children,” he screamed while grabbing any young Liverpool fans out of the crowd as the threat of a crush became too real. Many others followed his lead as the French police continued to watch from the sidelines.
It was at this point, our priorities shifted. Our safety mattered and not the game. I instructed my friend to head backwards, away from the huge bottleneck of supporters from the Y, Z blocks. Fortunately, we squeezed through a gap and retreated towards the entry ramps. We were both consigned to not gaining entry to the ground. There seemed to be no solution. And given how grave the situation felt, we just hoped to make it home that night.
Some Liverpool fans pulled down a fence to try and alleviate the growing pressure on the concourse as Kirk and others continued to help young people out of the crowd. “I’ve got a ticket,” someone on top of the ambulance shouted to another fan, “this is more important. It’s not about the game anymore.” It seemed the huge pressure was not down to thousands of supporters causing a delay at the turnstiles, it was down to them being closed or not working.
Thankfully, after about 15 minutes, the blockage of fans dispersed ever so slightly, allowing slow passage to the other turnstiles. I bumped into Gary Lineker who was also stuck. I told him about the lengths Liverpool fans were going to in order to avoid another disaster. “A disgrace,” was his reply.
I finally found turnstile C and instantly felt lucky that my ticket was in the highest category, meaning there were less fans trying to gain entry to that section of the ground. At this point, A and B turnstiles were still at a complete standstill and no-one was told why. I was scared to look behind me.
I found my seat two minutes before the scheduled kick-off. This was the first time I realised that kick-off had been delayed. I sent a text to my friend who was in block A - he still wasn’t in the ground. He finally messaged me. “I’m in, I got tear gassed, badly”. Videos from outside the ground started to circulate; supporters with tickets sprayed while trying to gain entry legitimately, young children and women hit with tear gas and players’ families caught up in the chaos. Again, I felt lucky that I narrowly escaped such despicable actions from the French police.
The game felt like an afterthought throughout, at half-time I spoke to those around me to try and find a way of exiting the stadium in a group rather than on my own. With full-time approaching, a hundred or so riot police created a barricade in front of the Liverpool supporters despite no hint of trouble from those in the stand. The procedure was not repeated in front of the Real Madrid supporters.
Following the full-time whistle, with fans leaving the ground after a devastating result, there was no such presence to protect matchgoers. It was an all-out free-for-all. Paris locals were everywhere, a huge gang waiting at the route to the nearest RER station. No Liverpool fans were out for trouble, no French police were present to keep order. After seeing multiple incidents, I changed course and went back the way I came in, trying to stick with the masses of fans for my own protection.
Eventually, I made it to the station before heading into central Paris. I met a family we spent Friday night with and got a cab straight back to the hotel. The car journey was spent reassuring my dad and mum, who were back in Liverpool, worried sick. No parent should ever feel this way at a football game. I later learnt the family I sat next to at the ground were mugged and had their watch stolen on the way back to a family coach organised by the club. Once again, I felt supremely lucky to have avoided a similar fate.
I’ve never felt such relief to return safely back to my hotel after a football game. The horrors and potential of yet another tragic football disaster at Stade de France was not down to the late arrival of fans. It was not down to ticketless fans trying to gain entry - it was another systematic failure from UEFA and those more concerned with how much money enters their pockets than supporters.
I take solace in the fact there are hundreds of videos and multiple accounts from fellow journalists to prove what is fact and what is fiction. There can be no cover up. UEFA and the French authorities must be held accountable. There must be change. The events at the Stade de France can never be repeated. No-one should fear for their life at a football game.
