Hooliganism at Reading

[The Real Sandhurst Royal]

http://www.getreading.co.uk/sport/football/football-news/open-letter-sir-john-madejski-6858465

Nice one from SJM. "we have decided to suspend our relationship with this particular publication. We have a duty to protect the club’s reputation, and particularly to protect our supporters’ reputation".

What will be the next steps.... legal consultancy about the article?

That would make em think!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Ian Royal]

Full RC article found here (All of the pages):

http://ow.ly/d/20kW

This has to be the best bit surely:

October 26 , 2013 v Millwall. Score 1-1
During the match police were told Reading supporters had
racially abused a Millwall player. Reading FC sent two plain
clothes staff to sit in the area and, after speaking to other fans,
they established that no racial abuse had been used and there
had actually been chants about the player being fat.

Which is just as bad as racism. Calling someone a fat bastard is just as bad as calling someone a black bastard.

On the whole, being fat is a lifestyle choice. Being black isn't.

[RoyalBlue]

Seriously though, everyone banging on about libel seems to have missed the point that the whole article is based on facts provided by the police.

That's not true though is it. They have taken a few 'facts' from the police and then chosen to very loosely interpret them. To that they have added a load of their own crap to portray the situation as considerably worse than it actually is. I'm sure the police could (and might) have provided them with a lot of positive facts too if the Chronic had wanted to use them.

Also, despite what the 'hang them or flog them' brigade would want us to believe, there is a very big difference between an 'arrest' and a 'criminal conviction'. In our country people are innocent until proven guilty, something the Chronic don't want to acknowledge because it would not help their sensationalist article.

Wonder if they have gone round to get the copies of this back? It's a must buy now, will go down in club history.
Farewell The Reading Chronicle, RIP in peace

Sod RIP - BIH Burn In Hell!

[statto]

In terms of libel, the article is at best misleading, at worst totally wrong.

The club's aim for many years has been to promote itself as a family club, a pleasant place to watch football.

So, I'd guess if that reputation was tarnished by something which isn't true, I'd say the club could sue.

The difficulty for the club would be proving people have stopped going to games because of the article.

That's very hard, but also I don't think anyone will believe it.

What would be easier to prove is that article has damaged the club's reputation.

Whether the club would want the cost and time of a court battle vs an impoverished local newspaper, we'll have to wait and see.

[TFF]

I'm sure the police could (and might) have provided them with a lot of positive facts too if the Chronic had wanted to use them.

TVP were on Radio Berks this morning doing just that. Article was misrepresentative and sensationalist. (Not a quote) RFC is exceptionally well run and well stewarded. There were a couple of minor, stressed minor, incidents in town centre.

Chronicle Editor declined an invitation to be on the programme.

[Norfolk Royal]

I remember coming into contact with the Thames Train Crew in the mid to late 70s when I regularly used to take the train between Reading and Pangbourne, although then it was called British Rail.

Anyone who thinks these people are not a threat to law abiding members of society should think again.

I remember their leading members were a psychotic train driver whose hand used to hover menacingly over the dead man's handle, a guard with shaking hands, a surly ticket inspector, and a hostess trolley woman with 'dead' eyes.

[YateleyRoyal]

This has to be the best bit surely:

October 26 , 2013 v Millwall. Score 1-1
During the match police were told Reading supporters had
racially abused a Millwall player. Reading FC sent two plain
clothes staff to sit in the area and, after speaking to other fans,
they established that no racial abuse had been used and there
had actually been chants about the player being fat.

Which is just as bad as racism. Calling someone a fat bastard is just as bad as calling someone a black bastard.

On the whole, being fat is a lifestyle choice. Being black isn't.

Cant believe someone bit.

[paddy20]

http://www.getreading.co.uk/sport/football/football-news/open-letter-sir-john-madejski-6858465

Nice one from SJM. "we have decided to suspend our relationship with this particular publication. We have a duty to protect the club’s reputation, and particularly to protect our supporters’ reputation".

What will be the next steps.... legal consultancy about the article?

That would make em think!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cant believe whats happened. The old Berks Chronicle was a real part of Reading and the club. This is like losing your best friend! What crazy person besmirched the good name of Reading F C and the good name of the Chronicle? I know people that used to work there and this would never have happened on their watch.

[TFF]

Wasn't it the chronicle that used to sponsor the code breaking half time scores at Elm Park?

[Big Foot]

The photo is taken outside the 3 Guineas after our home game with Crystal Palace in 2011

Never forgive, never forget.

[HoneyRoastHoax]

http://supportersnotcustomers.com/2014/ ... ng-ultras/

In the last few years, I have been witness to some of the most intense football matches on the planet. To name just a few, I’ve attended Inter vs. Milan, Feyenoord vs. Ajax and Red Star Belgrade vs. Partizan Belgrade. I’ve been to matches involving Borussia Dortmund, St Pauli, Galatasaray, Leeds, Lazio, Eintracht Frankfurt, Millwall and more. I thought I had pretty much seen it all, until along came this article in the Reading Chronicle.

I knew straight away that no matter how dangerous it might be, I owed it to my readers to brave a day at the Madejski Stadium. Despite the desperate pleas of my loved ones who urged me not to put my life on the line and do something safer like going on holiday to the Crimea, I packed my bags and headed to Berkshire. What I saw there would change my life forever, as the fearful Reading Ultras created a nightmarish vision of Hell. Without further ado, here is the true story of my day in Reading:

(Please note: this article contains descriptions of events that some readers may find distressing – parental guidance is advised)

Reading vs. Yeovil Town.

I clutched the ticket in my hand cautiously as I headed to the stadium from the main railway station in Reading. All seemed quiet, but I knew that danger was lurking around every corner. I see a middle aged man in a Reading shirt walking out of Starbucks. Was that a cappuccino he was holding or a carefully disguised explosive device? I couldn’t be sure, and I certainly wasn’t going to get close enough to find out.

After walking for several minutes, the menacing stadium finally looms on the horizon. I pass a dangerous looking establishment called Frankie and Bennys – presumably named after away supporters called Frankie and Benny would had previously been murdered after being foolish enough to follow their team to this notorious venue. Inside were a number of rabid looking fans, almost all of them holding knives. They were using them to cut up a pepperoni pizza, but this was clearly just a trick to avoid the attention of the police that would be sure to be keeping a close eye on this flashpoint fixture.

Speaking of the police, they were everywhere. Not even the pistol toting riot squad in Belgrade could have prepared me for this, with at least THREE policemen on duty outside the stadium. I briefly imagined the horrors these men must have seen over the years, and wondered how their families could possibly live with the trauma of knowing their father, husband or son was putting themselves in the line of danger on a fortnightly basis. I think about interviewing one of them for the story, but I didn’t want to trigger any distressing flashbacks of the carnage caused by the Reading Ultras in the past.

I arrive at the entrance to the stadium marked on my ticket, waiting patiently to enter the arena of doom. Suddenly, there is a commotion at the front of the queue. What I saw stunned even me, a veteran of some of the most dangerous stadiums in Europe. One of the crazed Reading fans had attempted to enter the stadium with a full bottle of Coke without removing the lid first. I waited for the security team to arrive and abandon the game, but they never came. Incredibly, the steward simply removed the lid and allowed the dangerous hooligan to go into the stadium unchecked. I shuddered to think what could have happened if this villain had not been caught, and pondered whether I would ever see my family again.

Finally, it was my turn. I handed over my ticket to the steward and was told to “enjoy the game”. Quite how anyone could enjoy themselves under these fearful conditions was beyond me, but it was a different type of football culture here, one where the threat of death and destruction has become commonplace.

As I walked up the stairs to the main curva (or as the locals menacingly called it, the Family Stand), I gasped with astonishment at the noise that was being created. It is hard to put into words how frightening the atmosphere was, and I only do so in the hope that others do not put themselves in such danger as I had done. To my left was a tremendously loud sound of rustling as someone brandished a crisp packet with reckless abandon, while all around me was the ear-bursting noise of polite clapping. If that wasn’t bad enough, the chanting was positively obscene. “Come on Deading, come on Deading!” they chant, clearly urging their players to murder the opposition.

It was the worst thing I have ever witnessed in a football stadium, and I quickly reported it to the closest steward I could find. In what was clearly a sickening cover-up so as not to upset the powerful ultras, he told me that they had actually been chanting “Come on Reading” and weren’t actually wishing death on the Yeovil players at all – a likely story.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any louder, out came the players. The Yeovil goalkeeper runs towards a wall of intimidation, with someone next to me going as far as to shout that he was “a stupid idiot”. To see such hatred almost brought tears to my eyes, so much for the ‘beautiful game’, I thought.

As the game gets underway and the fans settle down, the conversations around me reveal the true nature of these monsters. One of them asks a friend in another row how their Auntie Doreen is, clearly using a codename to enquire about illegal drugs. Hal Robson-Kanu goes close to opening the scoring but his shot goes narrowly wide, much to the dismay of these uncontrollable maniacs. “Bugger” exclaims one of them, using the kind of vile language that I had sadly come to expect from this sickening crowd. I am all for football culture and creating an atmosphere, but these people were simply going too far.

I had been warned by the Reading Chronicle to look out for offensive hand gestures, and sure enough, I had not been misinformed. “Hi Dave!” someone shouts, waving his hand violently back and forth. I didn’t know what this ‘wave’ stood for, but I assumed it was something to do with a combination of the Nazi Party, the KKK and the person responsible for the career of Vernon Kay. I made a mental note to report on this gesture later, ensuring that the scumbag would not get away with his actions.

The game was almost secondary to the mayhem all around me, but somehow I was able to draw my eyes away from the rampant hooliganism to study the goings on. With 67 minutes on the clock, a Yeovil player seems certain to score. He is clean through on goal with only the keeper to beat, and I prepare for the pitch invasion and mass riot that was sure to follow the away side taking the lead. As my eyes scanned desperately for an exit, the striker blasted his shot wide. Had he lost his concentration, or had he been threatened before the match not to score on pain of death? It was difficult to know.

The miss is followed by sickening taunts of the away supporters who had been brave enough to subject themselves to this cauldron of hate. The Reading masses are openly laughing at the Yeovil supporters, without a single regard for their feelings. I know there was a football match to be won, but these were still human beings for goodness sake.

The game enters the final ten minutes with the score 0 – 0. It looked as if the only winner here was going to be carnage, mayhem and shame, but the most terrifying moment was still to come. With 84 minutes player, a cross into the box is met by Hal Robson-Kanu, who turns the ball into the net for the winning goal. Pandemonium ensues, with many of the Reading fans celebrating so vigorously that they STOOD UP, despite the various warnings around the stadium that persistent standing was not allowed. It was all too much for me to take, and I sunk to the floor in terror, rocking back and forth at the terrible scenes I had just been forced to endure.

Not content with standing up and clapping, music was blasted around the stadium to mark the goal, the fans waving their hands in the air to the tune of Tom Hark as though they were Zulu warriors preparing themselves for war. Over on the other side of the stadium were 300 deeply upset Yeovil fans, forced to watch as their conquerors lauded it over them.

I have never left a football match early, but I made an exception in this case. I had seen enough to last me a thousand lifetimes, and I wanted to get out of the area before the violence boiled over into a riot. I managed to keep my calm all the way until the car park, when I saw the most terrifying sight yet. Until this moment I had not believed in pure evil, but here it was in plain sight. One of the Reading fans had tossed an empty can of Pepsi into a rubbish bin, despite the clear warnings asking for it to be recycled.

Tears streamed down my face as I ran for the safety of the train station. Why had I come to this vile place? Thankfully I made it in time to catch my connection, gasping with relief as the train pulled away and to safety.

I had survived my experience with the dreaded Reading Ultras, but it will be a very long time before I ever go to another football match. Please excuse the lack of updates on this site over the next few weeks, I will be undergoing intensive therapy to try and recover from this experience, before giving a talk to the BBC News journalists heading to Iraq so I can prepare them for warzone reporting. After this day I could truly say I do not fear death, because I have served my time in Hell. I had survived, but at what cost?

[Norfolk Royal]

In terms of libel, no one person has been libelled in that report from what I can see.

Reading FC could launch a corporate libel action but the law on that has been changed recently and a corporate entity must prove they have been seriously damaged, ie financially, by the report, to prove the case. I doubt that would apply here unless the attendances dropped by thousands due to fear of imagined violence, or major sponsors cancelled.

Can't see that happening to be honest. I think any intelligent observer would see the piece for what it was, cheap sensationalism by a failing newspaper desperately trying to shore up its bottom line sale.

I find it sad the depths that paper has descended to. I haven't lived in Reading for 35 years but recently, a few years ago, subscribed by post to the Reading Chronicle through nostalgic reasons really and also wanted to keep up to speed with events in the town as I still have close family there.

I fondly recalled it as a decent paper of record and was looking forward to poring over the cricket scorecards and minutiae news of people and places I remember.

I cancelled in sadness after a year. I know the problems afflicting the Chronicle are the same as many local and regional papers but they seemed to have forgotten what they did best, ie parish pump, in favour of fluff and cheapness.

[Royal Lady]

Seriously though, everyone banging on about libel seems to have missed the point that the whole article is based on facts provided by the police.

Says you who windmilled into six away fans outside the ground, when they were just minding their own business. THUG.

[paddy20]

Just need a few of the Chronics larger advertisers to withdraw their business, and the Hillsborough reference should create enough of a stink nationally to do this, and it's goodbye Mr o brien and possibly goodbye Chronical.

Dont blame the Chronicle, blame the man who obviously has no concept of what a local paper should be

[TFF]

http://supportersnotcustomers.com/2014/03/20/welcome-to-hell-a-day-with-the-reading-ultras/

In the last few years, I have been witness to some of the most intense football matches on the planet. To name just a few, I’ve attended Inter vs. Milan, Feyenoord vs. Ajax and Red Star Belgrade vs. Partizan Belgrade. I’ve been to matches involving Borussia Dortmund, St Pauli, Galatasaray, Leeds, Lazio, Eintracht Frankfurt, Millwall and more. I thought I had pretty much seen it all, until along came this article in the Reading Chronicle.

I knew straight away that no matter how dangerous it might be, I owed it to my readers to brave a day at the Madejski Stadium. Despite the desperate pleas of my loved ones who urged me not to put my life on the line and do something safer like going on holiday to the Crimea, I packed my bags and headed to Berkshire. What I saw there would change my life forever, as the fearful Reading Ultras created a nightmarish vision of Hell. Without further ado, here is the true story of my day in Reading:

(Please note: this article contains descriptions of events that some readers may find distressing – parental guidance is advised)

Reading vs. Yeovil Town.

I clutched the ticket in my hand cautiously as I headed to the stadium from the main railway station in Reading. All seemed quiet, but I knew that danger was lurking around every corner. I see a middle aged man in a Reading shirt walking out of Starbucks. Was that a cappuccino he was holding or a carefully disguised explosive device? I couldn’t be sure, and I certainly wasn’t going to get close enough to find out.

After walking for several minutes, the menacing stadium finally looms on the horizon. I pass a dangerous looking establishment called Frankie and Bennys – presumably named after away supporters called Frankie and Benny would had previously been murdered after being foolish enough to follow their team to this notorious venue. Inside were a number of rabid looking fans, almost all of them holding knives. They were using them to cut up a pepperoni pizza, but this was clearly just a trick to avoid the attention of the police that would be sure to be keeping a close eye on this flashpoint fixture.

Speaking of the police, they were everywhere. Not even the pistol toting riot squad in Belgrade could have prepared me for this, with at least THREE policemen on duty outside the stadium. I briefly imagined the horrors these men must have seen over the years, and wondered how their families could possibly live with the trauma of knowing their father, husband or son was putting themselves in the line of danger on a fortnightly basis. I think about interviewing one of them for the story, but I didn’t want to trigger any distressing flashbacks of the carnage caused by the Reading Ultras in the past.

I arrive at the entrance to the stadium marked on my ticket, waiting patiently to enter the arena of doom. Suddenly, there is a commotion at the front of the queue. What I saw stunned even me, a veteran of some of the most dangerous stadiums in Europe. One of the crazed Reading fans had attempted to enter the stadium with a full bottle of Coke without removing the lid first. I waited for the security team to arrive and abandon the game, but they never came. Incredibly, the steward simply removed the lid and allowed the dangerous hooligan to go into the stadium unchecked. I shuddered to think what could have happened if this villain had not been caught, and pondered whether I would ever see my family again.

Finally, it was my turn. I handed over my ticket to the steward and was told to “enjoy the game”. Quite how anyone could enjoy themselves under these fearful conditions was beyond me, but it was a different type of football culture here, one where the threat of death and destruction has become commonplace.

As I walked up the stairs to the main curva (or as the locals menacingly called it, the Family Stand), I gasped with astonishment at the noise that was being created. It is hard to put into words how frightening the atmosphere was, and I only do so in the hope that others do not put themselves in such danger as I had done. To my left was a tremendously loud sound of rustling as someone brandished a crisp packet with reckless abandon, while all around me was the ear-bursting noise of polite clapping. If that wasn’t bad enough, the chanting was positively obscene. “Come on Deading, come on Deading!” they chant, clearly urging their players to murder the opposition.

It was the worst thing I have ever witnessed in a football stadium, and I quickly reported it to the closest steward I could find. In what was clearly a sickening cover-up so as not to upset the powerful ultras, he told me that they had actually been chanting “Come on Reading” and weren’t actually wishing death on the Yeovil players at all – a likely story.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any louder, out came the players. The Yeovil goalkeeper runs towards a wall of intimidation, with someone next to me going as far as to shout that he was “a stupid idiot”. To see such hatred almost brought tears to my eyes, so much for the ‘beautiful game’, I thought.

As the game gets underway and the fans settle down, the conversations around me reveal the true nature of these monsters. One of them asks a friend in another row how their Auntie Doreen is, clearly using a codename to enquire about illegal drugs. Hal Robson-Kanu goes close to opening the scoring but his shot goes narrowly wide, much to the dismay of these uncontrollable maniacs. “Bugger” exclaims one of them, using the kind of vile language that I had sadly come to expect from this sickening crowd. I am all for football culture and creating an atmosphere, but these people were simply going too far.

I had been warned by the Reading Chronicle to look out for offensive hand gestures, and sure enough, I had not been misinformed. “Hi Dave!” someone shouts, waving his hand violently back and forth. I didn’t know what this ‘wave’ stood for, but I assumed it was something to do with a combination of the Nazi Party, the KKK and the person responsible for the career of Vernon Kay. I made a mental note to report on this gesture later, ensuring that the scumbag would not get away with his actions.

The game was almost secondary to the mayhem all around me, but somehow I was able to draw my eyes away from the rampant hooliganism to study the goings on. With 67 minutes on the clock, a Yeovil player seems certain to score. He is clean through on goal with only the keeper to beat, and I prepare for the pitch invasion and mass riot that was sure to follow the away side taking the lead. As my eyes scanned desperately for an exit, the striker blasted his shot wide. Had he lost his concentration, or had he been threatened before the match not to score on pain of death? It was difficult to know.

The miss is followed by sickening taunts of the away supporters who had been brave enough to subject themselves to this cauldron of hate. The Reading masses are openly laughing at the Yeovil supporters, without a single regard for their feelings. I know there was a football match to be won, but these were still human beings for goodness sake.

The game enters the final ten minutes with the score 0 – 0. It looked as if the only winner here was going to be carnage, mayhem and shame, but the most terrifying moment was still to come. With 84 minutes player, a cross into the box is met by Hal Robson-Kanu, who turns the ball into the net for the winning goal. Pandemonium ensues, with many of the Reading fans celebrating so vigorously that they STOOD UP, despite the various warnings around the stadium that persistent standing was not allowed. It was all too much for me to take, and I sunk to the floor in terror, rocking back and forth at the terrible scenes I had just been forced to endure.

Not content with standing up and clapping, music was blasted around the stadium to mark the goal, the fans waving their hands in the air to the tune of Tom Hark as though they were Zulu warriors preparing themselves for war. Over on the other side of the stadium were 300 deeply upset Yeovil fans, forced to watch as their conquerors lauded it over them.

I have never left a football match early, but I made an exception in this case. I had seen enough to last me a thousand lifetimes, and I wanted to get out of the area before the violence boiled over into a riot. I managed to keep my calm all the way until the car park, when I saw the most terrifying sight yet. Until this moment I had not believed in pure evil, but here it was in plain sight. One of the Reading fans had tossed an empty can of Pepsi into a rubbish bin, despite the clear warnings asking for it to be recycled.

Tears streamed down my face as I ran for the safety of the train station. Why had I come to this vile place? Thankfully I made it in time to catch my connection, gasping with relief as the train pulled away and to safety.

I had survived my experience with the dreaded Reading Ultras, but it will be a very long time before I ever go to another football match. Please excuse the lack of updates on this site over the next few weeks, I will be undergoing intensive therapy to try and recover from this experience, before giving a talk to the BBC News journalists heading to Iraq so I can prepare them for warzone reporting. After this day I could truly say I do not fear death, because I have served my time in Hell. I had survived, but at what cost?

[multisync1830]

In terms of libel, the article is at best misleading, at worst totally wrong.

The club's aim for many years has been to promote itself as a family club, a pleasant place to watch football.

So, I'd guess if that reputation was tarnished by something which isn't true, I'd say the club could sue.

The difficulty for the club would be proving people have stopped going to games because of the article.

That's very hard, but also I don't think anyone will believe it.

What would be easier to prove is that article has damaged the club's reputation.

Whether the club would want the cost and time of a court battle vs an impoverished local newspaper, we'll have to wait and see.

It would cost the club money to take them to court and they'd get nothing in return as the costs would far outweigh any reward. The paper would write more and more contentious articles as close to the edge as it could.

The best way would be to pull a Fergie and refuse to allow contact or ignore their requests for information leak stuff to getreading instead and subtely make it difficult for their journalists to cover the game. Put 2 sugars in the complementary coffee etc.

I expect the owner of the newspaper will have a chat with Chairman and there will be a number of family friendly RFC articles in the next few months. Both feed off eachother so neither will want this bad blood to run on too long.

[dizzynewheights]

The photo is taken outside the 3 Guineas after our home game with Crystal Palace in 2011

Never forgive, never forget.

We Will Remember Them

[Royal Lady]

Has anyone warned the Barnsley fans to expect a blood bath? Should we send a copy of the Chronicle to the club to allow fans to change their minds if they don't want to put themselves in danger?

[Big Foot]

Never forgive, never forget.

We Will Remember Them

RIP the wheelcha1r 1

He woz one of da best

[Brum Royal]

Have finally got round to seeing the "report", not just the front page, in the link helpfully posted on p7.

What a complete load of sensationallistic bull. The fact that half of the article features gestures/arrests/incidents by away fans (Man U, Chelsea etc) and then links them in an article referring to us. Even stated in their own article is that most of the incidents were a few RFC fans who'd had a few too many to drink - football fans like a beer, what a surprise!

Gutter journalism of the highest order, and a very good riposte by Sir John.