What a fucking disgrace.
I’m shocked, can’t even begin to imagine the anger for the families.
I’m shocked, can’t even begin to imagine the anger for the families.
Obviously the worst bit was the actual day, but then reading my fabricated statement a few years ago just killed me. I felt this horrible sense of embarrassment that anyone would believe that's what I'd told the police. I only got half way through it and wouldn't be able to read it again.
No surprise. The cover up and blame shifting began before there were even 96 dead. The shit I’ve been told by the lads that pulled me out when i was unconscious is unbelievable. I’ve dealt personally with this shit for over 30 years now. I am determined to not let it fuck me up again.
It felt like someone might finally be held to account.With respect, why are you even a little bit shocked? They've been doing this since April 15th, 1989.
All slagging and insults aside on this site, this stuff is heartbreaking and enraging all rolled up into one. It’s beggars belief. 🙁I went on a coach with 55 people on it and came home with 30. The police came and took my statement. I was seriously ill, I'd been in the gym with the bodies identifying my mates. The statement on record began with something to the effect of everyone I was with was very drunk. I was fifteen, everyone I was with was fifteen. It was a total fabrication. I know what I said. I'd been to Hillsborough before and I argued with the police and stewards and asked them to let us into the other pens. It's an absolute pack of lies
I'm not after sympathy. I'm just saying that the police lie. And they keep lying. And they'll lie about anyone. Yesterday's ruling is bewildering. It states that the police don't have to pass evidence to a public enquiry, because a public enquiry is not a judicial issue, so they are within their rights to lie. Seriously. Not that the police did or did not lie. That they're allowed to lie
Mate, I didn’t realise we were so close together that day. I woke up a few days later in Royal Hallamshire ITU. We must have been just a few feet apart. A lottery is right. I have no recollection of the day after leaving my old man by the main stand. For years I had no recollection of the day at all but it gradually came back. I met the lad that saved my life once a few years back in The Liverpool. Gary Reavey. It was mad. We got royally pissed. It’s odd that when you sorted that ticket for me once and came out of the Kenny to give it to me (I was really late, fucking M6) that we had no idea. Next time I’ll be giving you a fucking big hug man.Of all the memories that aren't too horrible, there was this dude in the crowd who came in with me and he was a pure guns and roses lookalike. I thought his cowboy boots were dead cool. I was probs one of the last people out of the stadium because I'd been dragged round the gym looking at dead people, but I left through the leppings lane, same way I'd entered, and I saw his boots and his jacket and shirt on the floor. Don't think I've ever said that before but it was really terrible. In the stands there were metal barriers every few feet and just before it got completely mental I ducked under one. When I woke up on the pitch I didn't think about the significance of that decision, but when I left the place I saw these boots behind the same fence I'd been stood behind that was now seventy degrees forward. It was a lottery.
I’m surprised he took it.Sir. He can fuck off too