Ibrox disaster fifty years on: Remembering those that died in the catastrophe

Such is the case with the Ibrox disaster of January 2, 1971. The 50th anniversary of by far the worst footballing tragedy in Scottish history will take place a week on Saturday. As it is a matter of history and is going to be commemorated even in these pandemic-hit times, I feel compelled to write about it. I want to try and tell the story and put it in historical context for the very many readers of The National who were not born before it happened, and therefore have no memories of the actual events. For those of us who were in our youth back in 1971, and to the many people who have clear recall of the disaster, I apologise in advance for any upset caused by referring to old memories, and I can only promise to be as factual as possible.

It is important to put the disaster in its football context. It was an Old Firm match, and while there are some people who think the term should be scrapped, the history of the rivalry between the two big Glasgow clubs cannot be denied, not least because no other city derby in the world is even close to the more than 600 games – including friendlies and Glasgow Cup matches – that have taken place between Celtic and Rangers. The Scottish football press also gave them that name because of the distinct friendliness between the two clubs in their early days – Rangers volunteered to be Celtic’s first opponents they both had other enemies in Glasgow, namely Queen’s Park and Clyde.

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By the New Year of 1971, the rivalry had long developed other connotations – namely the sectarian element which, despite the efforts of well-meaning people on both sides, continues to blight the Scottish game, and in turn reflects badly on our society.

Celtic were in the midst of their nine-in-a-row league championships under legendary manager Jock Stein, and had won the European Cup – the first non-Latin club to do so – in 1967 and reached the final in 1970. Rangers had lost in two European Cup Winners’ Cup finals in 1961 and 1967. Both teams were then, as now, by far the wealthiest clubs in Scotland, and were feared in European competition, too.

The traditional Ne’erday Old Firm match took place against an unusual background in that neither of the two clubs were on top of the old Division One. Aberdeen, managed by Eddie Turnbull, had gone into the lead in December, beating Celtic 1-0 at Parkhead on December 12. Rangers were struggling by their standards, having lost to both Aberdeen and Celtic earlier in the season and also losing to Ayr United, Hibs and St Johnstone in November and December.

It couldn’t – and wouldn’t – happen now, but Rangers were forced to play Falkirk away on January 1, and perhaps nervy due to the big match to be held 24 hours later, they were beaten 3-1. Celtic’s scheduled Ne’erday match against Clyde was postponed due to frost. Yet any Old Firm encounter has a special significance, no matter how different their league positions – the old cliche about the form book going out of the window often comes true when these two meet. Celtic, who had not won a Ne’erday match at Ibrox for 50 years, wanted to catch Aberdeen, and Rangers wanted a win to get their season back on track, so the stakes were high and the scene was set for a vital clash.

Ibrox Park was then the second largest football stadium in Scotland in terms of capacity, with only Hampden Park able to hold more. Often in those days, fans would queue up at turnstiles and pay their way into a match, and even though the Old Firm games were all-ticketed affairs, it was still possible to buy a ticket at Ibrox on the day of the game. That’s probably why the exact attendance has never been known, but the best estimate is that somewhere between 75,000 and 80,000 spectators were in the stadium that day.

Ibrox Park was then a giant bowl surrounded by concrete and steel. To be historically accurate, next week we should be commemorating the second Ibrox disaster, because on April 5, 1902, a part of the mainly wooden West Tribune Stand collapsed during the Scotland v England match. Hundreds of people fell onto the concrete surface many feet below them, causing 25 deaths and injuring more than 500 others, some of them suffering life-changing injuries.

Though no-one was ever found guilty in relation to that first disaster, the design and construction methods pioneered by Archibald Leitch were found to be at fault and a new Ibrox Stadium was built, again designed by Leitch but this time with terracings on raised earthworks and steel barriers on concrete stairways leading to and from the interior. Leitch’s new design was to become the template for many stadia around the world.

THERE was a tragic portent of the events of 1971 almost 10 years earlier when two Rangers fans were killed in a crush on Stairway 13, and again there is a similarity in the actual events that occurred. On September 16, 1961, Celtic were winning 2-1 when Jim Baxter scored in the final seconds of the game. An eyewitness account of the events told how Rangers fans on Stairway 13 stopped and tried to find out what was going on, only to be overwhelmed by an avalanche of fans pouring out of the ground in ecstasy at their late delivery from defeat. The impact of thousands of bodies moving down the stairway led to many injuries and two fatalities – Tommy Thomson, 29, from Gourock, and George Nelson, 22, from Penilee. Thomson left a wife and daughter.

After that tragedy, Rangers spent a small fortune on safety improvements all around Ibrox, and while there were two incidents of crush injuries in 1967 and 1969, a report by experts found that the reconditioned Ibrox was one of the safest, if not the safest, grounds in the country.

Sadly, that was proven not to be the case on January 2, 1971. The day itself dawned cold and grey, and many people recall how the Ibrox floodlights were lit unusually early. For the record, the teams that day were as follows: Rangers manager Willie Waddell selected Neef, Jardine, Mathieson, Greig, McKinnon, Jackson, Henderson, Conn, Johnstone, Smith, and Stein. Of that team, no fewer than seven would go on to start for Rangers in their European Cup Winners’ Cup victory the following year, namely John Greig, Sandy Jardine, Willie Mathieson, Derek Johnstone, Alfie Conn, Dave Smith and Colin Stein.

Celtic’s team was Williams, Craig, Gemmell, Brogan, Connolly, Hay, Johnstone, Hood, Wallace, Callaghan, and Lennox. The legendary Lisbon Lions of 1967 had begun to break up, but there were still five of them – Jim Craig, Tommy Gemmell, Jimmy Johnstone and Willie Wallace – in the Celtic XI, with club captain Billy McNeill injured and watching from the stand. Jock Stein had already begun to rebuild Celtic after the Lions and George Connelly and David Hay had become mainstays of the team.

The match reports of the day state that it was not the best or most exciting Old Firm match for much of the proceedings, and referee Bill Anderson kept good control of a game in which flashpoints are never far away due to the pressures on all the players. Strangely enough, many press reports spoke of the lack of the usual “party” songs and the atmosphere was almost benign, possibly because the usual Ne’erday revellers had had time to sober up, though of course there was plenty drink taken at Ibrox – this was a decade before the alcohol ban at football grounds.

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THE slippery conditions saw plenty of mistakes but precious few chances were created, and the fog that had descended on Glasgow visibly worsened in the second half. With just over a minute to go, Lennox fired in a shot which rebounded off the crossbar to be met by the head of the diminutive Jimmy Johnstone for what looked to be the deciding score, or so the Celtic fans thought.

Rangers regrouped and attacked from the re-start. Dave Smith sent in an excellent cross which was steered home by Colin Stein, and this time it was the Rangers end which erupted.

Now I have to deal with one of the myths that surrounds the disaster. According to press reports at the time, when Johnstone scored, the Rangers fans en-masse started heading for the exits, including Stairway 13. Stein’s equaliser with seconds left is often reported as the last kick of the game – but that’s not true. Referee Anderson correctly insisted on the match being re-started, though he blew for time up almost immediately and the players of both teams shook hands and preceded him up the tunnel.

The immediate press speculation – there was plenty of it in the absence of hard facts – was that the fans who went down Stairway 13 after Johnstone’s goal turned back and tried to get up to the terracing, presumably to join in the incredible jubilation which Stein’s goal had caused.

It may be true that a few did do so, but the more prosaic truth is that anybody trying to get back up the stairs would have been physically unable to do so, for the crush in the rush to get out was already under way and would develop over several minutes. The most likely scenario is that somewhere on Stairway 13, somebody stumbled and went down – there were reports of a young boy who was being carried on someone’s shoulders going down first.

The timing is crucial here, for despite many, many hours of investigation, no-one could find who the initial casualty was, and the crushing and the injuries and deaths only started after the full-time whistle.

It was utter carnage. The simple truth is that far too many people were trying to crowd into too small a space, and perhaps ironically, there was no escape to the side of the stairs as Stairway 13 had been hemmed in by wooden barriers following the 1961 incident. Evidence showed that the steel handrails that were seen as an essential safety element in guiding people downstairs also served to jam people together until they began to give way under the sheer weight of humanity landing on top of them. In turn, those collapsed rails meant further fans went down, never to rise.

Within seconds, a terrifying crush began as the fans simply toppled over each other. Unaware of the catastrophe unfolding ahead of them, more and more spectators came onto Stairway 13 and added to the effect which some reports at the time compared to an avalanche – only this was a human avalanche, not one of snow.

Survivors spoke of the terror of the breath being squeezed out of them, and of being unable to escape. Some men, realising what was happening, tried to stop the cascade of their fellow Rangers supporters pouring through the exit at the top of Stairway 13, but it was impossible to turn the tide. The bodies of the dead and injured began to pile up, which in turn led to other fans falling over them and joining the crush.

Within minutes, it was clear that a major disaster was unfolding on Stairway 13.

By the end of it, 66 people would be dead, including schoolboys and one woman.

Next week’s Back in the Day will continue with a reflection on the casualties and aftermath of the Ibrox disaster.