CHAMPIONS OF
EUROPE?
The 1975 European Cup Final has gone down in Leeds United history as a moment of bitterness, unfairness and violence. What really happened at the match on that May day in Paris? We attempt to find out by talking to some fans who were lucky enough to attempt the game and try to pinpoint the effect it had on the club’s psyche over the subsequent 50 years.
Introduced by Terry Simpson
Interviews by Terry Simpson, Paul Atkinson and Richard Clarkson
Pictures by Jonathan Turner
The Parc des Princes stadium in Paris was packed with the blue, white and yellow scarves, hats and flags of excited Leeds United fans, and resounded with Yorkshire accents raised in songs and chanting. It was Wednesday 28th, May, 1975, and the biggest football match in the history of the club was about to begin – the European Cup Final. A game to decide the best team in Europe. Against Leeds were the German champions, the mighty Bayern Munich.
In the previous 14 years Leeds United had risen from an underachieving second division club flirting with relegation, to a team that could challenge the best in the world. Don Revie, once a stylish midfielder, had become manager in March 1961, and by the time I went to my first match in 1963 he had begun to shape the squad he inherited into a formidable team. I was 11 when a boy at school enthused about the team, and I went to see what the fuss was about. From my first match I was completely smitten. I’d never experienced anything like it. The roar of 30,000 men delighted or enraged by the spectacle in front of them. The close view from the “Boy’s Pen” behind the goal, just feet from the action, seeing every blade of grass on the wet ball, and every gesture and expression of our heroes and their rivals. I watched my team rise steadily, inevitably it seemed. With the giant Jackie Charlton at the heart of the defence, fiery little Scots Billy Bremner and Bobby Collins in midfield Leeds United were soon promoted to the first division, then were competing in European competitions, always played on Wednesday evenings and always according to my memory in fog or rain, or both. Over the following years they became first division champions and won the FA Cup, and the European Fairs Cup. But as well as winning titles, they had also on many occasions come second, or lost in a cup final, so the team that stepped onto the turf that fateful day had something to prove.
The fans still sing “Champions of Europe” 50 years later, but the history books tell a different tale. Twice calls for penalties in Leeds’ favour were turned down. Then “hot shot” Peter Lorimer scored what seemed a perfectly legitimate goal, only for Bremner to be ruled offside. Leeds could not score, then late in the game Munich did, twice. The crowd reacted and fighting led to a heavy police reaction, then rioting, which continued off the pitch, and through the night in the streets outside the stadium. Leeds received a 4-year-ban from European football, and the dream was truly over.
Some of us watched the fateful game on TV, but some lucky fans were actually there. What was it like on that night in Paris? How did it feel to see your team so cruelly (and controversially) robbed of the title? What about the violence? We meet some fans who were at the match. In his diary, Chris Bruce takes us back to the 1975 and tells us of his misadventures on that memorable night.
A Diary by Chris Bruce
AND NEAR
MISSES
SHATTERED
DREAMS
MONDAY 26TH MAY
This was the ‘last chance saloon’. The team that Don built would make this last great effort to win the ultimate prize. Now we really would be the greatest. We couldn’t possibly lose this one, after all the heartache and near misses, this was it, the big one. We couldn’t and dare not fail. In a mood of high expectancy we set off from Leeds.
We hitch down to London. All goes well, the lift is enjoyable and it’s non-stop from Leeds. The omens are good. On arrival at Victoria station we meet up with a very drunk Celtic fan. He says there are loads of Scottish fans going over to support Leeds. We wish him well and after a few beers get on the train down to Dover. We finally arrive in Paris on the Tuesday. The excitement is growing.
TUESDAY 27TH MAY
We arrive in Paris and finding the price of the local plonk unbelievably cheap, invest in a crate of 12 bottles. Luckily, we find a hotel that allows us to deposit our belongings. Then we find another bar and head once again on our sightseeing tour. Rounding the corner of a particularly impressive building, I suggest to my friend Ian that we go in through a small side door. We find ourselves in a labyrinth of corridors. Picking another door, we burst through and find ourselves on a stage in what looks like a classroom with people sitting at desks.
There we are, two slightly drunk Leeds fans festooned in scarves, carrying a large Union Jack with the words ‘Super Leeds’ emblazoned upon it, suddenly faced with room full of French students. An official comes up to us and politely explains that this is a class being taught English - and anyway how did we get in, this is a government building? Ian points to the flag and announces, “We are from Leeds. We are in Paris to see our team win the European Cup, we are playing a German team called Bayern Munich.” There is then a long pause. Then a middle-aged Frenchman stands up and with a smile on his face, exclaims “Bayern Munich! Pfffft!” He blows a raspberry! At this everyone claps and then we all laugh.
Now we really get going; I hold up the flag and pointing to “Super Leeds”, we soon have
the whole class singing. As the excitement subsides, we join in conversation class and are invited to
share the lunch that they are about to begin. With shouts of ‘Bon Voyage’ we leave the building, this time accompanied by the tutor to make sure we safely get past the Gendarmes at the main entrance. This is unfortunately not the last time that we see the military presence.
We now find ourselves in the area of Paris known as “le Polytechnique”. Our plan is to meet some friendly locals and hopefully find somewhere to stay. At 2am we are still drinking, but by this time have more or less drunk ourselves sober. This turns out to be fortuitous as the fight we are about to witness has to be one of the most ferocious of all time. It starts in the bar and is between two Frenchmen, one of whom we have been talking to. Gradually the two of them, with fists flailing, make their way outside. The guy who we know is then pinned to a car bonnet, whilst the protagonist pulls out a wicked length of bicycle chain and literally begins to thrash his victim within an inch of his life.
The mood is now turning thoroughly ugly and we decide this is the time for a quick exit. Realising that we have nowhere to stay, we pass a derelict house and decide to take up residence in the basement. I wake at 4am with that feeling that something is crawling over my legs. Glancing down, I see what I hope is a large mouse, but I don’t think so somehow! I lie there shivering. It suddenly dawns on me, today is THE day. The day when Leeds win the European Cup. Who cares about rats!
Chris Bruce. Then and now
WEDNESDAY 28TH MAY
After what can only be described as a fitful night’s sleep, we make for the nearest cafe and recharge the batteries with a stiff coffee. We spend the morning in more cafes as we head for the centre of Paris and soon find ourselves on the Champs-Eylesees. Now the atmosphere is really beginning to build up. It seems like the whole of Leeds has come to Paris.
It is only when we finally arrive at the Parc de Princes that we learn that there has been trouble involving Leeds fans, and that a number of off-licences have been looted. I have a bottle of wine stuffed down my trousers. Thankfully I don’t get searched going through the turnstiles and at last we are in the theatre of our dreams. Never have I seen such a fantastic atmosphere. We take up our seats on the first row, upper tier and drape our Union Jack over the edge of the stand. I am almost hoarse as the game finally kicks off. At last the moment has come.
We all know what happened over the next 90 minutes. The Allan Clarke penalty that never
was, Peter Lorimer’s disallowed goal of a lifetime, the Leeds fan who ran on the pitch, and
who was then picked up and thrown back into the stand by the riot police. In frustration, many fans lower tier began to rip up their seats and throw them down on to the pitch. The atmosphere was beginning to degenerate. It disintegrates when in the 72nd minute, Bayern scores their first goal. Eight minutes later, the second. Our dream, and that of our beloved team, is finally shattered.
It feels as if the end of the world had come. I had never wept at a football game, but tonight it was different. This had been the hope of achieving the ultimate prize and now it was over. Once outside the ground, the feeling of disbelief multiplies itself into a hideous scene of carnage. Everywhere there are riot police, and all of them are armed to the teeth.
Ian, a perfect diplomat, walks up to a heavily armed cordon of French Gendarmes and offers him his treasured Leeds scarf. He has to carefully explain to the somewhat tense policemen that this WAS an act of goodwill. “Sorry for all this,” he says. “We are the real Leeds fans.”
Because of the trouble we have no wish to stay in Paris, so we decide to hitch down to Calais. We head for the main route out of Paris, and in hope, stick out our thumbs. Maybe it’s my flag that put people off, but we don’t get one car to stop! Englishmen are not the flavour of the month that night!
We are slightly cheered up when three French guys join us, chat and suggest that we come and drown our sorrows back at their flat. This seems like a better bet than staying by the road, and it has started to drizzle. The one that could speak English says it was only around ten minutes to his flat. After we had been walking for about half an hour, we are becoming somewhat concerned. Ian looks at me and said, “There’s something not quite right about this.” I also feel uneasy. “At the next corner, let them get round and then we’ll sprint away” So that’s what we do. Now we are lost as well as wet. We find some shelter under a road bridge and stay there for hours. It is now 5am. The match seems like a distant memory. We walk for ages and then find a bus route back into Paris.
29TH-30TH MAY
We finally leave Paris in the late afternoon and return to England on the overnight ferry.
Friday 30 May 1975
Our bad run with lifts continues and, after another unlikely adventure, we reach Leeds at 5 o’ clock on Saturday morning. It could have been the greatest week of my then life. It turned out to be unforgettable for all kinds of reasons. Neither of us ever forgot those six days.
(Dedicated to my great friend Ian Shaw who recently died)
To get more perspectives we went to the Leeds United Over 50's Social Club, a free, weekly health and wellbeing group that takes place at Elland Road Stadium. Mike Graham, Peter Sunter and Phil Beaton went to the match in Paris and share their memories of the match below, starting with how they came to be there.
PHIL
We had a supporters club coach at that time. It was an organised coach from Leeds with a one-night stop after the match. Came back the day later. Went down the day of the game, got down there in good time and stayed over in Paris after the match. Came back the following day. It was £25 return. Being a Yorkshireman, I remember that bit quite well.
MIKE
It was a three-day trip. Got picked up here, flew from East Midlands, went in the day before. We were there for the day of the match, obviously, and then we flew back the following day.
PETER
I got my tickets for it, luckily, by the fact that the company I worked for. They gave us some tickets, so I was fortunate to go that way. We drove down on a bus, and we were supposed to be going on the hovercraft. But because of the weather conditions, that stopped the hovercraft. We had to go on a ferry. And just as we were driving on to the ferry, lo and behold, a big Rolls Royce pulls up to the side of us. Looking inside, we did see (what we thought) was Paul McCartney. When we got on the ferry, Paul McCartney had actually gone onto the boat. And he sat with kids that were on the ferry, with his own children. He must have had 20 to 30 kids all round him, just telling tales and messing about. And it was unbelievable.
PHIL
There seemed to be more supporters wearing Leeds colours than there were Germans. I think a lot had gone over without tickets. And there was quite a noticeable range of accents over there. In particular Cockney, Liverpudlian and Scottish, which you thought was a little bit unusual for the team that was based in West Yorkshire. But there seemed to be a hell of a lot more Leeds colours than there were the Germans. I remember taking a flag; it were like a bedsheet. A big flag, a scarf and a little blue and white and yellow cap. In those days, you showed your colours. Certainly for the Paris final. It was the pinnacle of everything, we just pulled out all the stops.
PETER
I was given four tickets. So I took my prospective mother-in-law and father-in-law. He'd been a lifelong supporter, a member of the supporters’ club here down at the ground. Consequently, I was sat behind or in front of the likes of Bobby Collins, the Directors, everybody like that. You know, they were sure that things were not right.
PHIL
Fans were mingling before the game. Both sets of supporters. It seemed quite relaxed. I think everybody was looking forward to it. It was the pinnacle of the season for both clubs. Bayern were holders as well, so they’d got the incentive of winning it again. We’d never won it, but we had a good enough team – and with Don Revie leaving, the lads were determined to do it in his memory. For him.
"I REMEMBER TAKING A FLAG; IT WAS LIKE A BEDSHEET. A BIG FLAG, A SCARF, AND A LITTLE BLUE AND WHITE AND YELLOW CAP. IN THOSE DAYS, YOU SHOWED YOUR COLOURS. CERTAINLY FOR THE PARIS FINAL. IT WAS THE PINNACLE OF EVERYTHING, WE JUST PULLED OUT ALL THE STOPS."
PHIL BEATON
DODGY
DECISIONS
The match was marred by what Leeds fans saw as unfair refereeing. After 20 minutes of the game Leeds appealed for a penalty for handball against Beckenbauer, the charismatic German captain, but referee Michel Kitabdjian refused them. Then after half an hour Beckenbauer swept “sniffer” Clarke’s legs from under him as he closed in on goal with the ball. It seemed a cast iron penalty, but again the ref said “no”. Lorimer hit a perfect volley into the roof of the net, and at first the goal seemed to have been allowed. Then Beckenbauer complained, and after discussion between ref and linesman the goal was disallowed for offside against Bremner. After the game UEFA’s observers gave referee Kiabadjian two marks out of twenty, and he was never allowed to referee another major game.
MIKE
The penalty was in the first half, but I don't think that many people reacted all that much to that. Because in those days, you got away with tackles like that. It was pointed out more later on in the media, I think. If I remember right, it was the opposite end to where the Leeds fans were. We were up in the gods. We were fairly near the front of the second tier. Quite clearly, there was no interference.
PETER
I had a different angle. But it was still very clear.
PHIL
The goal that we scored - in inverted commas - that was our end. The goalkeeper couldn't have got it. But that, I think, was the flashpoint. What you've got to remember as well is prior to that particular game, we had suffered an awful lot over the previous five, six, seven seasons with bad refereeing. There was no doubt about it, Cup Semi-Finals, other matches where goals had been chalked off. There was a feeling amongst Leeds supporters that the authorities had it in for us and they didn't want us to win, no matter what. You just had that feeling because it had happened so much. ‘67 it started, didn't it? Again, Lorimer put a free kick in and got it chalked off. We had a chance to win the championship here in 71. We played West Brom the last game at home and there were two goals that were offside there. The ref was called Tinkler. Never given. I used to have a little chart on my bed and I think there were seven referees' names on there and I always said if I ever got a dartboard, those names would be put on it. So it didn't help the fact that there was a history of poor decisions. The biggest game of our lives!
"WE'D BEEN USED TO WINNING. I KNOW WE WEREN'T ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID, NEVER THE BRIDE, BUT AT THE SAME TIME WE HAD SUCH WONDERFUL PLAYERS. THE BLAME WAS ON THE REFEREE. SUBSEQUENTLY, HE NEVER REFEREED AGAIN ANYWAY BECAUSE OF THAT".
PETER SUNTER
Accounts vary to the extent and responsibility for the violence, but it’s clear that the referee’s decision made some fans in the ground very angry. The match was interrupted by missiles being hurled from the crowd – broken chairs and bottles. Some saw the French police as heavy handed. “Fighting broke out with police;” wrote Daniel Chapman in his book 100 Years of Leeds United. “When fans saw others being dragged away by groups of officers, fighting became rioting.” The violence continued after the match too. Peter, Mike and Phil share their thoughts.
PETER
The way the fans were treated! The French authorities had decided to put these people in tracksuits and then pull supporters out of the ground at times. Which was shocking. It could well have been avoided.
MIKE
They weren't the normal gendarmes, were they? They were the Snatch Squads. And that’s sad. But, I mean, we went down the Champs-Élysées in the afternoon of the game and there was no sign of any trouble or anything from anywhere.
PHIL
Outside, I never saw any problems. It was all inside the stadium. I remember one thing quite vividly. Me and my wife got married in July of that year, so we were engaged. I says, “Look, no matter what happens now, while we're here, we're going to go to the Eiffel Tower and have a look.” We got on the Paris Metro from the ground and got off at Place De La Whatever-it-was. It would’ve been about half past eleven at night, went up the steps out of the underground. I says, “There you are, there's the Eiffel Tower.” And the lights went out. I thought that just summed up my day, did that.
MIKE
I went out on to the Metro. I thought, “I'll go to Sacré-Cœur and make the most of the trip”. I got off at the station where you had to change. Could I find my way out? After about 10 minutes trying to work my way out, I thought, “Sod this!” I found my way and went back.
PETER
Travelling back, the weather had been back, so we were on the first hovercraft. For two days there hadn't been any hovercrafts. So we got on and and I have never known so many people being sick. Very ill.
MIKE
It was a subdued then going home the following day. We flew from Charles de Gaulle and got back into Leeds about teatime.
PETER
The blame was on the referee. Subsequently, he never refereed again anyway because of that.
PHIL
We were actually done out of it. on a level playing field, if everything had been as it would have been, I think we would have beat them. That was it. The season had finished. That was the last game. You just thought to yourself, “Well, how long is it going to be before we get another shot of it?” Some of the players, i.e. Billy and Johnny Giles, it was the last chance for them. They were never going to get another opportunity. So it was sad in that respect. They should have won a lot more than they did, for various reasons.
MIKE
You wondered, “What the hell was going to happen?” Because we'd got such a bad press as well.
PHIL
We got a European ban. Even though we didn't qualify, we were still banned. It was a shame because the opportunity had been taken away from us. Stolen, in fact.
PETER
We'd been used to winning. I know we weren't always the bridesmaid, never the bride, but at the same time we had such wonderful players.
PHIL
We were lucky to have been born around that time and see the glory days, certainly of the mid and late 60s and early 70s. You used to go home from here, back home and have your tea and you wouldn't have your tea if they'd drawn a game. You'd feel sick. It was accepted; “How many are we going to win by today?” They did it so consistently well and they were a joy to watch. It was the team. There wasn't really any weak links in them because they played as a unit. It's a bit like we've got now. It's not on the same level but the way they're doing so well at the moment and it's how we won the title in 1992 with Howard Wilkinson. We didn't have the best players on paper but we had a great unit and they played to the best of their ability and they were successful with it.
Not all fans could make it to the match. But we spoke to many who remember pain of watching the game on TV. We start with Tony, who was working as an actor in London at the time. “On this auspicious night,” Tony recalls. “I was working as an understudy in the controversial revue, Oh Calcutta! in London’s West End. I was a very keen Leeds supporter, but there was only one other member of the company who had the slightest interest in football at all: the chief electrician. My services were not needed on stage that night, so he very kindly brought in his portable TV so I could watch the big match on a 14” black-and-white screen, on my own, in my dressing room.”
Tony’s enjoyment of the game was marred by the TV commentator. “He had a thinly veiled, jaundiced and biassed prejudice against Leeds. I got the strong sense that he would rather this particular English team did not win the European Cup.” Desipte the “disgraceful decisions”, Tony can’t remember any dissent form the commentary. “I could only fume quietly in my splendid isolation. I think I turned the TV off very soon after the final whistle – and the only thing that prevented me throwing it through the window was that there was no window in my dressing room. Nobody in the theatre could remotely understand my despair. I had nobody to commiserate with so I slunk off back to my lonely digs as soon as the curtain came down.”
Some remember watching the game as children. “I cried,” says Richard. “I was only young. I just knew it was the end of an era. I sort of grew up in the years, 65 to 75. I just knew all those players would be gone after that game.” Barry was 10 and saw the game on TV: “The highlight of following Leeds at the time, of course, was watching the European Cup final,” he says. “Getting to the final and you're up against one of the biggest European teams. But when you actually see what was a blatant penalty - when Beckenbauer brought Clarkey down - and it's just played on. He was just taken out!” Steve was a similar age to Barry and he remembers “the sinking feeling of an enormous occasion.” Mark admits to getting a bit carried away: “I remember being allowed to stay up and watch it. When we scored, we all jumped up, and then I remember my dad swearing at me. It was a disallowed goal!”
Many fans were desperate to go to the game but not all could be part of the lucky few. Dennis had to work. “Unfortunately, I had a milk round at that time, and I couldn't go,” he says. “It was 364 days a year, so I wasn't able to go to Paris. I watched it on television. Really disappointed. Anyway, there we go.” Alan remembers that “Leeds only got a small allocation of tickets originally. So, the week before, Wallace Arnold organised coach trips to go over to Paris to get more tickets. A lot of my mates did that.”
Were Leeds United unfairly treated? “I probably don't like to use the word robbed,” says Steve. “But it appeared so. It's still very, very clear in my memory, virtually 50 years on. You don't always have a chance to go back for a second time. I've got my DVD of the game. I've watched it once, and it's probably too painful to watch for a second time. It's all part of the memory, the history of the club. But it was very, very unfortunate.” June is certain that Leeds were “robbed”. She tells us, “We were twisted. We were robbed. That's why the chant comes in. What we sing now. “Champions of Europe!” And we still sing it now every match. Because they really were champions before they were robbed.”
And the violence? Tony sums up the game thus: “The eventual 2-0 defeat seemed to encapsulate all the myriads of injustices of the Revie era, and whilst I could not condone the violence that followed, I could fully understand why the supporters’ fury boiled over as it did.”
"IT WAS A SUBDUED THEN GOING HOME THE FOLLOWING DAY. WE FLEW FROM CHARLES DE GAULLE AND GOT BACK INTO LEEDS ABOUT TEATIME. YOU WONDERED, “WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?” BECAUSE WE'D GOT SUCH A BAD PRESS AS WELL".
MIKE GRAHAM
It's only a game they say, so why is this one game remembered so vividly after 50 years? At the time the complaints seemed like an echo of the old “we was robbed” story you hear all over the country every Saturday. I have to admit I didn't go to the match or even see it on TV. The “Summer of Love” of 1967 had weakened football’s grip on me, even for “the Whites”. I was then 16 years old, hitch-hiking to London to protest the US war in Vietnam, the Beatles were singing “All You Need Is Love”, and I was distracted by the lure of music, girls and mind-altering substances. By the time of the final in 1975 football wasn't my priority.
But as time went on and I learned more, I began to think there might be something that explained why the sense of injustice persists. There had been scandal in the Bundesliga (the German football league) in 1971, when players and club officials were found to have used bribery to manipulate results of games. There have been many instances since of match fixing in leagues throughout the world, culminating in the European football betting scandal of 2009, which involved 9 European leagues, including in Germany, and to which the Mafia were linked. Some Leeds fans have always believed, and it's possible there was foul play in 1975, but no hard evidence has ever emerged.
The trouble at the end of the match, combined with the team’s “dirty Leeds” reputation, meant that there was little sympathy from the rest of the footballing world. Even today this is how the best team Leeds has ever produced will be remembered. It’s become ironic. Last week, I saw a student on Woodhouse Moor with a “Dirty Leeds” bag. But we’d rather be remembered as champions!
I think the truth behind the sense of injustice is deeper, in the soul of our city itself. The rivalry between the brotherhood of Northern cities has always been intense. Liverpool under successive managers built a team that competed at the top for decades. Meanwhile the “Liverpool scene”, led by the music of the Beatles was at the cultural heart of the 1960s and 70s. Leeds has never had anything like that. The music scene shifted to Manchester in the 1980s and 90s, while Manchester United also built a football team that had success for many years. The European Cup is now called the Champions League, which Liverpool have won 6 times, and Manchester United 3 times. The 1975 final was the closest Leeds United have come to that kind of glory, and it hurts. It was only a game, but it was the chance for the eternal Northern underdogs to show the world what we can really do. I think Leeds is still a city waiting for its day.