Western Morning News (Saturday)
REMARKABLE TALES OF WORKING-CLASS SPIRIT
Since the early, dark days of Covid in 2020, the UK has taken a close look at itself and transformed its opinion of who the real heroes in society are. Hollywood and political icons are out, NHS staff and ‘ordinary’ frontline workers are in.
As a cost-of-living crisis threatens to bite deep this winter, a new book called Diamonds in the Mud by award-winning Mirror columnist Brian Reade is more relevant and timely than ever. Written with characteristic passion and power, it celebrates our working-class heroes including two inspirational men whose genius football food bank idea has taken the country by storm.
A SHOCKING SIGHT
The pre-match fanzone was buzzing as Evertonians warmed to the prospect of that night’s game with Watford. Hands were shaken, burgers scoffed, pints passed between mates as goals from previous matches were beamed on to a big screen to heighten anticipation.
But to the side of that screen something was happening which, despite being a testament to the generosity and solidarity of the football fans, shamed the sixthrichest economy in the world.
Match-goers were handing over bulging shopping bags containing UHT milk, long-life fruit juice, tins of meat and veg, packets of soup, pasta and noodles in the hope it would stave off hunger in the working-class communities close to the home of their beloved football club.
Few of the thousands of fans streaming down Goodison Road gave the trestle tables that were weighed down with emergency supplies a second glance, because they had seen them there, and on the other side of Stanley Park outside Anfield, on every match day since 2015, thanks to a partnership between the two sup
porter groups, called Fans Supporting Foodbanks (FSF).
In 2015, two Unite the Union organisers Dave Kelly and Ian Byrne (now a Labour MP for Liverpool West Derby) were at a community meeting near Liverpool’s Anfield ground, when they spotted what they thought was a long queue outside a bingo hall. It was, in fact, for a foodbank.
When they approached they were invited inside and were gobsmacked to see supplies that were so depleted, a bag of pasta was being split and divided into sweet bags for distribution.
FORGING A TEAM
When Byrne expressed his shock at how little food there was, he was told that demand was far outstripping supply. “I came away from it quite traumatised that my class was facing such an appalling situation,” he said.
The two were also fan activists. Byrne was with Liverpool’s Spirit of Shankly and Kelly with Everton’s Blue Union, and had worked together on the Football Supporters’ Federation’s successful Twenty’s Plenty initiative, which capped the cost of Premier League away tickets. They tossed around ideas about how to address the desperate
lack of food, and along with fellow Evertonian Robbie Daniels decided they needed to take joint action on the grounds that poverty was a curse regardless of the football team you support.
And so their slogan ‘Hunger Doesn’t Wear Club Colours’ was born. They got the backing of the Football Supporters’ Association, and other fan groups (including Newcastle, Celtic, Huddersfield, West Ham, Manchester United, Aston Villa, Doncaster and Sunderland) followed suit, and set up their own matchday collections. The concept even spread to Ireland.
They had no paid workers but simply relied on the generosity and time of fellow supporters to make it work.
And it did work. Before Covid struck, forcing all fans to stay at home, the Anfield and Goodison matchday foodbanks were providing almost a third of the city’s emergency food supply.
Their work was vital because the numbers were frightening. As I stood helping with the collections that night outside Goodison, 2,000 people in just Anfield and Everton alone, including 755 children, were reliant on free food. country’s true national jewel, the NHS, and The Journey chronicles the bravery, strength and resilience of a young, scared boy who finally got to call Britain his home.
I SLEEP BETTER
I asked Dave Kelly what his motivation was and he replied, “Our only reason for existing is to do everything we can to ensure that the warehouses are full across the city.
“Unfortunately, we have a humanitarian crisis in every town and city in the UK. I would love to never stand outside a stadium collecting food ever again, but until things change we will continue doing so.
“And by the way, this isn’t charity. It’s solidarity, it’s about workingclass communities showing unity and helping each other in their hour of need.”
I told him he must draw great satisfaction from his efforts and he frowned and replied, “Well, personally, I sleep easier at night knowing for a fact that fewer children are going to bed hungry. So that will do for me.”
A few weeks earlier they had rebranded the meeting of Liverpool and Everton at Anfield the Universal Credit derby, and 2.2 tonnes of foods and toiletries were collected in three hours before kick-off. That meant North Liverpool Foodbank had an extra 158 emergency three-day food parcels, providing more than 6,300 meals for families in crisis. Which made a massive difference to the poorest families, especially in the run-up to Christmas.”
SPREADING THE WORD
Word of what FSF were doing in Merseyside soon spread, with fans across the country adopting similar foodbank schemes, often with guidance from Dave and Ian. Newcastle United supporters set up a foodbank
in February 2017 and within two years it was responsible for a third of all donations across the city.
The pair had done something remarkable. They had wired into the fact that football has a unique power which makes it the perfect platform to do good in the local community. They were saying to everyone who watches football that they have the power to change things in society.
By the time the 2020 pandemic struck, FSF had been present at 233 consecutive games at Goodison and Anfield and were collecting around a tonne of food per game. They had put food poverty and foodbanks on the national agenda and shown that the much-maligned football fan could be a catalyst for good.
Thanks to these principled stands during a time of cowardice among supposed leaders, footballers and fans went from national scapegoats to the country’s conscience. They exposed those who ran the game and the country as lacking emotional intelligence at best, and being heartless charlatans at worst.
And they empowered each other. Now that supporters and players had found a voice and a way of getting it heard by uniting and organising from below, things may never be the same again.
Suddenly fans and footballers, previously stereotyped as drunken yobs and bling-obsessed philanderers, were on the right side of history.
And the people they were shaming looked like the national pariahs.
During a time of cowardice among supposed leaders, footballers and fans exposed those who ran the game and the country