Robbie Reinelt and today's Daily Mail [don't look if the title offends you!]
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nwgull
Well-known member
It still annoys me to this day that that bloke got his boots. Does he still go to matches?
Weststander
Well-known member
It would be great if Robbie is at the Amex for these last two games as a guest.
Does he often visit the club on match days?
Does he often visit the club on match days?
sjamesb3466
Well-known member
I'm offended....
Nah, I enjoyed the article, thanks for posting.
Nah, I enjoyed the article, thanks for posting.
*REALLY long post alert* I scooped the DM by about 15 years on this one!
I had the privilege of meeting RR in 2002, back in the days when Roz was running the 'Brighton Rockz' fanzine, and I interviewed him about that day at Edgar Street... I can't find the link anymore, so have copied the interview below for those that may be interested in reading it. Amy errors or omissions are of course, purely down to me.
For the record, he couldn't have been nicer the day I met him, and said that he still looks out for the Albion result before any other, come 4:45 on a Saturday afternoon. I just wrote him a letter (remember those?), asking if I could interview him for the Brighton fanzine and he just phoned me up and said, "yeah - no problem!"
ROBBIE REINELT - BRIGHTON LEGEND
And now, the article..... (its long ... skip ahead NOW if you can't be arsed).
THERE’S ONLY ONE ROBBIE REINELT
Five years ago Robbie Reinelt secured a place in Albion folklore by coming off the bench at Edgar Street and grabbing the most important goal in the club’s history.
All in all, high time Brighton Rockz paid a visit to the man still regarded round these parts as a living legend.
Saturday 6 April 2002 - Peterborough away:
I closed my eyes and just for a split second it was almost like being back in the middle of the old North Stand. Thousands of Albion faithful raising the rafters with ear splitting renditions of Good Old Sussex By The Sea, small kids being passed to the front and shifty looking strangers peeing in your pocket through rolled up copies of the Racing Post. But hey – we couldn’t stay in The Cherry Tree all day; nice pub, shame about the service, but we’d come to Peterborough on important business. Fat Barry down at London Road had three points to give away, and it wouldn’t do to be late.
There was just under an hour to go before kick off when I arrived at the ground but already 3’500 Albion fans were squeezed onto the Moys Road terrace. Dozens of red and black balloons swirled overhead in a stiffening breeze sweeping across the East Anglian fens, and the low tin roof covering the concrete steps reverberated to the din of another promotion party in full swing.
Brighton were back - standing on the brink of the First Division having been only a matter of minutes from the Conference just five seasons before. Suddenly, from somewhere towards the back of the stand came the cry: “ONE ROBBIE REINELT…!” Instantly the rest of the crowd responded: “…THERE’S ONLY ONE ROBBBBBIE REEEEINELT…ONE ROBBBIE REINELT!!”
He may have long since parted company with the club, but in the eyes of the fans Robbie Reinelt - scorer of the last gasp goal that saved Brighton's skin in May 1997 – will always be an Albion legend.
‘It’s really, really flattering that the supporters still sing my name,’ says Robbie when I meet up with him one Saturday lunchtime earlier this summer.
‘I was out shopping with Lisa one day and this bloke came across to me and said, “you’re Robbie Reinelt aren’t you?” I was desperately trying to think where he knew me from, and then he just said, “I was at Hereford.” It’s one of those things that just makes you go cold; being recognised for something good that you’ve done.”
* * *
So far as Brighton and Hove Albion is concerned, the Robbie Reinelt story began in the February of 1997. Robbie had moved to the south coast from Colchester United in search of regular football, and although the Albion appeared to have taken out a long- term lease on 92nd spot in the Football League, results under new boss Steve Gritt were showing a steady improvement. But even so, in most bookies up and down the country Brighton & Hove Albion to go down was about the closest thing you could find to a racing cert.
Real estate vultures had been circling above Hove Park for months, waiting to pick over the Goldstone's decomposing carcass and everywhere you looked there seemed to be another fat lady - just waiting to burst into song. All things considered, coming to Brighton in '97 can't have been the most attractive gig in the Football League: did Robbie really know what he was letting himself in for?
"I’d be lying if I said I didn’t read the papers to find out what was happening," he replies. “Brighton was my club now, and I wanted to know what was going on."
"All the players knew that things weren’t right," he continues, "but as soon as we crossed the white line there was nothing we could do about Archer and Bellotti. As professionals we had a duty to go out and prove that we were worthy of pulling on the blue and white shirt. And if we weren’t, then Steve would have brought in somebody who was. Simple as that."
As far as proving his worth was concerned, Robbie needn't have worried too much. As winter melted into spring such was the measure of his increasing influence on the Albion’s improving fortunes it's sometimes easy to forget that prior to the Hereford game Robbie had only made eleven appearances in an Albion shirt - and half a dozen of those had started from the bench. But already Robbie was slipping into the welcome knack of knocking in some particularly crucial goals. In early March he’d come on as sub against Northampton Town to grab the winner in what was only his third appearance for the club; and a fortnight before the Hereford game he’d slotted home the equalizer in Albion’s 1-1 draw at Cambridge.
As an addition to the Albion's established strike force Robbie was proving to be very useful indeed, and as the team bus rolled slowly into Hereford at lunchtime on Saturday May 3rd, he must have been feeling confident about making it three from twelve.
‘No, not really,’ he replies. ‘I knew that I would be starting the game on the bench so I never imagined for one minute that there would be any way in the world that I would come on and end up scoring that goal. It’s funny - but if I had started it wouldn’t be me sitting here now; it’d probably be somebody else.’
Certainly Steve Gritt had made sure that the Albion weren’t short of experience up front going into the Hereford game.
Craig Maskell and Ian Baird had cracking on for a thousand career appearances between the two of them, notched up at seventeen different clubs and their Albion partnership had already yielded twenty seven goals for the season. Robbie recalls how their calm, measured approach proved invaluable when it came to settling any pre-match jitters in the camp.
“The old heads like Bairdy and Maskell were able to take it all in their stride,’ says Robbie. ‘I was more excited than anything else as I’d never been in that sort of situation before. We’d travelled up on the Friday and stayed in Ross on Wye the night before which was a trip in itself,' he laughs. 'We had a guy called Dave Martin’ (Martin had joined the Albion on loan from Northampton on Transfer Deadline day), ‘and him and Bairdy were the two people you really needed at a time like that. They were going around making sure everybody was nice and relaxed and generally just taking the piss out of everybody.’
But as the players tried to keep the mood light-hearted the one topic of conversation that was strictly off limits was the match itself.
'Footballers are a very superstitious lot,' says Robbie. ‘Deep down in the back of our minds I think we believed that we would do it. But it was like if we’d said anything it would’ve been tempting fate, which is the worst thing you can do. Personally speaking I thought all along that we would do it. But that was easy for me to say', he smiles, 'I knew that I'd be starting on the bench.’
Given the tension surrounding the fixture was it a blessing in disguise to be isolated from the pressure?
‘Not at all,' replies Robbie. 'I was desperate to play from the start – as a professional those are the games that you always want to be involved in; whether it's fighting relegation or going for the championship – they're the ones that really count.'
As the players went through their last minute rituals and Steve Gritt issued his final instructions the noise from thousands of supporters who’d made their way up from the South Coast drifted down the tunnel and seeped under the dressing room door.
‘The changing rooms at Hereford are under the main stand,’ says Robbie. ‘We could hear this noise that was the Brighton fans singing. That really got the old adrenalin pumping; no matter how focused you are on your own game you can’t shut out four thousand people.'
By half time however the Brighton fans had gone a good deal quieter and a deep sense of foreboding had descended across the Blackfriar's Street terrace. One nil down, and Albion had saved one of their most ineffectual performances for months for the last game of the season.
'Hereford had come into the match knowing they needed the win which probably helped them a bit,' remarks Robbie.
Having spent so many months as the underdogs with nothing to lose, it suddenly looked as if the psychology of ‘only’ needing a draw was working to the Albion’s disadvantage.
Fifteen minutes played in the second half and Steve Gritt's last chance to change things around. Paul McDonald, virtually an ever present on the left side of Albion’s midfield that season received the signal that he was coming off.
Jeff Wood, Gritt’s assistant, leant across to Robbie: "You’re going on Rob - just go out there and do your best.”
'I was so excited that I don't remember if he gave me any instructions other than that,' recalls Robbie. 'I was just desperate to play.'
Robbie had been on the pitch for just under nine minutes when Craig Maskell shaped to shoot from outside the area. Instinctively Robbie and Ian Baird started to accelerate towards the goal line in case Trevor Wood in the Hereford goal spilled the ball. But Maskell's effort screamed past Wood, thumped the base of the post, bounced back out and ran diagonally across the box. By now Robbie was in full stride and arriving on the edge of the six yard box.
‘It was a straight chase between me and Bairdy for the rebound,' says Robbie, 'and I knew that I was gonna win that race,' he grins. 'The ball just sat up for me on my left foot, which if I’m being honest isn’t my best so I decided just to spank it. From that range if you can get a contact then nine times out of ten you’ll hit the target so you just have to hope the keeper doesn’t make a save.' Wood however was stranded, and before the net had even had a chance to ripple the Albion packed fans behind the goal and in the Len Weston Stand to Robbie's left knew that Brighton were right back in it.
'Yeah, luckily I hit it across the keeper,' smiles Rob. 'If I’d had time to think about it - and what that goal meant - I’d probably have ballooned it over the bar.'
A little over twenty one minutes plus stoppage time on the clock and Robbie Reinelt had done it again.
'It was just a mad adrenalin rush after I'd scored,' he says. 'You can tell that by the fact that I was even coming back for corners – I mean, I never come back for corners,' he smiles. 'To be honest I was just I was just running around like a blue arsed fly, trying to chase everything down.'
Robbie was still running as the referee signalled full time and he sprinted straight to the touchline nearest the tunnel.
'My wife and family were sat in the main stand,' he says, 'and I went straight across to wave to them.'
But as dozens of police streamed onto the pitch to deter any potential crowd incursion, they weren't too impressed to find the Albion goal scorer leaping around like a lunatic in front of the dugouts and gesturing at the crowd.
'I nearly got arrested straight after the game,' laughs Robbie. 'I was only trying to wave to Lisa and my mum and dad, but the police thought I was trying to wind up the Hereford fans!'
As he joined the rest of the squad jigging up and down in front the jubilant travelling supporters Robbie famously unlaced his boots and tossed them into the crowd.
‘I got a right slating from Lisa afterwards,' he laughs. 'She’d bought them for me as good luck boots. They cost £120 and it was the first time I’d worn them. When I finally met up with Lisa outside the main entrance after the game she said, “Couldn't you have just given your shirt away instead?"'
* * *
The shirt, like the boots, is also gone now, (it fetched £1500 at the Centenary Dinner) but Robbie does still have a momento from his days at the Goldstone.
'I've got a piece of turf in a box,' he says. 'About an hour after the final game at the Goldstone against Doncaster; I thought I’d go out and take one last look at the pitch. As I walked down the tunnel it was unbelievable – there were about a thousand people out there still digging up lumps of turf. So I thought to myself “right, okay - I’ll go on and get some too.” It was really moving digging out a little piece of the pitch; although I’d only been there three months I’d heard all the great stories about the Goldstone. Brighton's result is still the first one I look for on a Saturday when I finish playing.’
* * *
Together the supporters, players and manager had come through Brighton & Hove Albion's most traumatic season ever. By the time Robbie Reinelt arrived in the right place at the right time to score the most important goal in the club's history the team had played over 3,760 minutes of league football. Put it another way, there was only 0.5% of the season left. I don't care what anybody says – that’s about as close as it gets.
And as for Robbie – well, he had proved a point of his own.
'Some people in the game were knocking me for going down to Brighton,' he recalls. 'So that goal was two fingers to the people who were saying, "What do you want to go there for?"
‘But going to the Albion - ' smiles Robbie, ‘well, it was probably the best move I ever made.’
And so say all of us.
I had the privilege of meeting RR in 2002, back in the days when Roz was running the 'Brighton Rockz' fanzine, and I interviewed him about that day at Edgar Street... I can't find the link anymore, so have copied the interview below for those that may be interested in reading it. Amy errors or omissions are of course, purely down to me.
For the record, he couldn't have been nicer the day I met him, and said that he still looks out for the Albion result before any other, come 4:45 on a Saturday afternoon. I just wrote him a letter (remember those?), asking if I could interview him for the Brighton fanzine and he just phoned me up and said, "yeah - no problem!"
ROBBIE REINELT - BRIGHTON LEGEND
And now, the article..... (its long ... skip ahead NOW if you can't be arsed).
THERE’S ONLY ONE ROBBIE REINELT
Five years ago Robbie Reinelt secured a place in Albion folklore by coming off the bench at Edgar Street and grabbing the most important goal in the club’s history.
All in all, high time Brighton Rockz paid a visit to the man still regarded round these parts as a living legend.
Saturday 6 April 2002 - Peterborough away:
I closed my eyes and just for a split second it was almost like being back in the middle of the old North Stand. Thousands of Albion faithful raising the rafters with ear splitting renditions of Good Old Sussex By The Sea, small kids being passed to the front and shifty looking strangers peeing in your pocket through rolled up copies of the Racing Post. But hey – we couldn’t stay in The Cherry Tree all day; nice pub, shame about the service, but we’d come to Peterborough on important business. Fat Barry down at London Road had three points to give away, and it wouldn’t do to be late.
There was just under an hour to go before kick off when I arrived at the ground but already 3’500 Albion fans were squeezed onto the Moys Road terrace. Dozens of red and black balloons swirled overhead in a stiffening breeze sweeping across the East Anglian fens, and the low tin roof covering the concrete steps reverberated to the din of another promotion party in full swing.
Brighton were back - standing on the brink of the First Division having been only a matter of minutes from the Conference just five seasons before. Suddenly, from somewhere towards the back of the stand came the cry: “ONE ROBBIE REINELT…!” Instantly the rest of the crowd responded: “…THERE’S ONLY ONE ROBBBBBIE REEEEINELT…ONE ROBBBIE REINELT!!”
He may have long since parted company with the club, but in the eyes of the fans Robbie Reinelt - scorer of the last gasp goal that saved Brighton's skin in May 1997 – will always be an Albion legend.
‘It’s really, really flattering that the supporters still sing my name,’ says Robbie when I meet up with him one Saturday lunchtime earlier this summer.
‘I was out shopping with Lisa one day and this bloke came across to me and said, “you’re Robbie Reinelt aren’t you?” I was desperately trying to think where he knew me from, and then he just said, “I was at Hereford.” It’s one of those things that just makes you go cold; being recognised for something good that you’ve done.”
* * *
So far as Brighton and Hove Albion is concerned, the Robbie Reinelt story began in the February of 1997. Robbie had moved to the south coast from Colchester United in search of regular football, and although the Albion appeared to have taken out a long- term lease on 92nd spot in the Football League, results under new boss Steve Gritt were showing a steady improvement. But even so, in most bookies up and down the country Brighton & Hove Albion to go down was about the closest thing you could find to a racing cert.
Real estate vultures had been circling above Hove Park for months, waiting to pick over the Goldstone's decomposing carcass and everywhere you looked there seemed to be another fat lady - just waiting to burst into song. All things considered, coming to Brighton in '97 can't have been the most attractive gig in the Football League: did Robbie really know what he was letting himself in for?
"I’d be lying if I said I didn’t read the papers to find out what was happening," he replies. “Brighton was my club now, and I wanted to know what was going on."
"All the players knew that things weren’t right," he continues, "but as soon as we crossed the white line there was nothing we could do about Archer and Bellotti. As professionals we had a duty to go out and prove that we were worthy of pulling on the blue and white shirt. And if we weren’t, then Steve would have brought in somebody who was. Simple as that."
As far as proving his worth was concerned, Robbie needn't have worried too much. As winter melted into spring such was the measure of his increasing influence on the Albion’s improving fortunes it's sometimes easy to forget that prior to the Hereford game Robbie had only made eleven appearances in an Albion shirt - and half a dozen of those had started from the bench. But already Robbie was slipping into the welcome knack of knocking in some particularly crucial goals. In early March he’d come on as sub against Northampton Town to grab the winner in what was only his third appearance for the club; and a fortnight before the Hereford game he’d slotted home the equalizer in Albion’s 1-1 draw at Cambridge.
As an addition to the Albion's established strike force Robbie was proving to be very useful indeed, and as the team bus rolled slowly into Hereford at lunchtime on Saturday May 3rd, he must have been feeling confident about making it three from twelve.
‘No, not really,’ he replies. ‘I knew that I would be starting the game on the bench so I never imagined for one minute that there would be any way in the world that I would come on and end up scoring that goal. It’s funny - but if I had started it wouldn’t be me sitting here now; it’d probably be somebody else.’
Certainly Steve Gritt had made sure that the Albion weren’t short of experience up front going into the Hereford game.
Craig Maskell and Ian Baird had cracking on for a thousand career appearances between the two of them, notched up at seventeen different clubs and their Albion partnership had already yielded twenty seven goals for the season. Robbie recalls how their calm, measured approach proved invaluable when it came to settling any pre-match jitters in the camp.
“The old heads like Bairdy and Maskell were able to take it all in their stride,’ says Robbie. ‘I was more excited than anything else as I’d never been in that sort of situation before. We’d travelled up on the Friday and stayed in Ross on Wye the night before which was a trip in itself,' he laughs. 'We had a guy called Dave Martin’ (Martin had joined the Albion on loan from Northampton on Transfer Deadline day), ‘and him and Bairdy were the two people you really needed at a time like that. They were going around making sure everybody was nice and relaxed and generally just taking the piss out of everybody.’
But as the players tried to keep the mood light-hearted the one topic of conversation that was strictly off limits was the match itself.
'Footballers are a very superstitious lot,' says Robbie. ‘Deep down in the back of our minds I think we believed that we would do it. But it was like if we’d said anything it would’ve been tempting fate, which is the worst thing you can do. Personally speaking I thought all along that we would do it. But that was easy for me to say', he smiles, 'I knew that I'd be starting on the bench.’
Given the tension surrounding the fixture was it a blessing in disguise to be isolated from the pressure?
‘Not at all,' replies Robbie. 'I was desperate to play from the start – as a professional those are the games that you always want to be involved in; whether it's fighting relegation or going for the championship – they're the ones that really count.'
As the players went through their last minute rituals and Steve Gritt issued his final instructions the noise from thousands of supporters who’d made their way up from the South Coast drifted down the tunnel and seeped under the dressing room door.
‘The changing rooms at Hereford are under the main stand,’ says Robbie. ‘We could hear this noise that was the Brighton fans singing. That really got the old adrenalin pumping; no matter how focused you are on your own game you can’t shut out four thousand people.'
By half time however the Brighton fans had gone a good deal quieter and a deep sense of foreboding had descended across the Blackfriar's Street terrace. One nil down, and Albion had saved one of their most ineffectual performances for months for the last game of the season.
'Hereford had come into the match knowing they needed the win which probably helped them a bit,' remarks Robbie.
Having spent so many months as the underdogs with nothing to lose, it suddenly looked as if the psychology of ‘only’ needing a draw was working to the Albion’s disadvantage.
Fifteen minutes played in the second half and Steve Gritt's last chance to change things around. Paul McDonald, virtually an ever present on the left side of Albion’s midfield that season received the signal that he was coming off.
Jeff Wood, Gritt’s assistant, leant across to Robbie: "You’re going on Rob - just go out there and do your best.”
'I was so excited that I don't remember if he gave me any instructions other than that,' recalls Robbie. 'I was just desperate to play.'
Robbie had been on the pitch for just under nine minutes when Craig Maskell shaped to shoot from outside the area. Instinctively Robbie and Ian Baird started to accelerate towards the goal line in case Trevor Wood in the Hereford goal spilled the ball. But Maskell's effort screamed past Wood, thumped the base of the post, bounced back out and ran diagonally across the box. By now Robbie was in full stride and arriving on the edge of the six yard box.
‘It was a straight chase between me and Bairdy for the rebound,' says Robbie, 'and I knew that I was gonna win that race,' he grins. 'The ball just sat up for me on my left foot, which if I’m being honest isn’t my best so I decided just to spank it. From that range if you can get a contact then nine times out of ten you’ll hit the target so you just have to hope the keeper doesn’t make a save.' Wood however was stranded, and before the net had even had a chance to ripple the Albion packed fans behind the goal and in the Len Weston Stand to Robbie's left knew that Brighton were right back in it.
'Yeah, luckily I hit it across the keeper,' smiles Rob. 'If I’d had time to think about it - and what that goal meant - I’d probably have ballooned it over the bar.'
A little over twenty one minutes plus stoppage time on the clock and Robbie Reinelt had done it again.
'It was just a mad adrenalin rush after I'd scored,' he says. 'You can tell that by the fact that I was even coming back for corners – I mean, I never come back for corners,' he smiles. 'To be honest I was just I was just running around like a blue arsed fly, trying to chase everything down.'
Robbie was still running as the referee signalled full time and he sprinted straight to the touchline nearest the tunnel.
'My wife and family were sat in the main stand,' he says, 'and I went straight across to wave to them.'
But as dozens of police streamed onto the pitch to deter any potential crowd incursion, they weren't too impressed to find the Albion goal scorer leaping around like a lunatic in front of the dugouts and gesturing at the crowd.
'I nearly got arrested straight after the game,' laughs Robbie. 'I was only trying to wave to Lisa and my mum and dad, but the police thought I was trying to wind up the Hereford fans!'
As he joined the rest of the squad jigging up and down in front the jubilant travelling supporters Robbie famously unlaced his boots and tossed them into the crowd.
‘I got a right slating from Lisa afterwards,' he laughs. 'She’d bought them for me as good luck boots. They cost £120 and it was the first time I’d worn them. When I finally met up with Lisa outside the main entrance after the game she said, “Couldn't you have just given your shirt away instead?"'
* * *
The shirt, like the boots, is also gone now, (it fetched £1500 at the Centenary Dinner) but Robbie does still have a momento from his days at the Goldstone.
'I've got a piece of turf in a box,' he says. 'About an hour after the final game at the Goldstone against Doncaster; I thought I’d go out and take one last look at the pitch. As I walked down the tunnel it was unbelievable – there were about a thousand people out there still digging up lumps of turf. So I thought to myself “right, okay - I’ll go on and get some too.” It was really moving digging out a little piece of the pitch; although I’d only been there three months I’d heard all the great stories about the Goldstone. Brighton's result is still the first one I look for on a Saturday when I finish playing.’
* * *
Together the supporters, players and manager had come through Brighton & Hove Albion's most traumatic season ever. By the time Robbie Reinelt arrived in the right place at the right time to score the most important goal in the club's history the team had played over 3,760 minutes of league football. Put it another way, there was only 0.5% of the season left. I don't care what anybody says – that’s about as close as it gets.
And as for Robbie – well, he had proved a point of his own.
'Some people in the game were knocking me for going down to Brighton,' he recalls. 'So that goal was two fingers to the people who were saying, "What do you want to go there for?"
‘But going to the Albion - ' smiles Robbie, ‘well, it was probably the best move I ever made.’
And so say all of us.
Last edited:
BUTTERBALL
East Stand Brighton Boyz
The best Albion article i've read this week (and there have been many) and now usurped by the above post 
dejavuatbtn
Well-known member
It would be a nice gesture if whoever got his boots donated them to the museum.
Arkwright
Arkwright
I was lucky to meet Robbie when he was playing for Billericay against my local side Whyteleafe, he spoke fondly about the Albion and "that goal".
He also signed my copy of Build A Bonfire, top bloke.
He also signed my copy of Build A Bonfire, top bloke.
Peter Grummit
Well-known member
I remember reading that fanzine piece first time around. Terrific article, has stood the test of time.
Sent from my SM-G930F using Tapatalk
Sent from my SM-G930F using Tapatalk
Thunder Bolt
Silly old bat
I met Robbie at a pub in Worthing for one of Kerry Mayo's testimonial do's. He and Gerry Ryan were the two guests for a Q&A session. Lovely blokes, both of them.
Captain Sensible
Well-known member
Matt Barlow has written a few good Albion articles recently. I hate the mail but their sports reporting has always been decent.
Keith Patel
**** off Lino.
Cheers, PG. That really means a lot.
Pretty certain I know or at least think I know who had the boots, was once a member of the ECC or whatever they were called!
At the risk of strettching people's patience, I have just dug out the interview I did with Steve Gritt around the same time (2002). It's a long piece, so skip forward if you're short of time!
A More Civilised Place To Be
When Brighton and Millwall emerge from the dressing rooms at 2.55pm on 22nd February 2003 they will be greeted by what will probably be the biggest ovation of the season. But for once the cheers from the home support ringing out across the wooded slopes of Withdean won’t be reserved exclusively for the Albion. Because making his way across the pitch to the visitor’s dugout will be a wiry, track-suited figure who’ll always command a special place in the history of this club: Millwall’s Assistant Manager, Albion Legend and all round top bloke Steve Gritt will be back in town.
Bry Nylon asks him if he’s relishing his day at the seaside...
“Yeah - it’s going be a strange experience,” says Steve, chuckling quietly to himself. “Even though we’ve played Brighton recently in cup competitions I wasn’t directly involved myself. But now I’m working with the first team, and I’m really looking forward to it.”
Steve pauses for a half a second. “All the vociferous people…” he asks with a smile, “…they’re in that big stand on the far side aren’t they?”
It’s late on a Friday afternoon in early July, and a thin veil of soft, grey drizzle is wafting across Millwall's south London training complex. Pre-season sprints have finished for the day and angry looking storm clouds loom menacingly over Bromley, completely blotting out the view of Crystal Palace on the horizon; maybe the weather’s not so bad after all…
Steve and I sit in his first floor office overlooking the deserted practice pitches. A cardboard box stuffed full of brand new Mitre footballs props open the door and one of those magnetic tactic planner thingies is screwed to the far wall – all in all it’s definitely a proper football coach’s room. In the corner of the office a television is tuned into coverage of the Wimbledon men’s semi final, and every so often my questions are punctuated by brief bursts of polite applause from SW19. This is my first attempt at interviewing, and I’m grateful for the support.
Anyway – back to business: I’ve come to talk to the man who saved the Seagulls. In December 1996 Steve Gritt accepted what the press were dubbing the worst job in football and to be honest it wasn’t difficult to see why. Brighton & Hove Albion were holed below the waterline and sinking fast. The club had been anchored to the foot of the Third Division since early October and hadn’t won at home since beating Scarborough 3-2 at the beginning of September. A few short weeks prior to Gritt’s arrival the last ever FA Cup tie to be staged at the Goldstone ended in numbing humiliation as mighty Sudbury Town became the second non-league outfit in three years to dump Brighton out of the competition in the first round. And that was just the good news: with the ground sold to property developers and no credible alternative in the pipeline the club was homeless and broke. A stench of decay pervaded everything about the Goldstone and with the board and the supporters locked in a bitter war, the FA were seemingly unwilling or unable to intervene.
Yet today, somehow, just five short seasons on, Archer and Bellotti are gone, the club is applying for planning permission for an extension to the trophy cabinet and we’re back in Brighton, playing in Division One. Okay, so we still don’t have a permanent home, but when Steve Gritt walked into the club simply preserving our league status would have seemed like a gift from the Gods.
“What’s happened over the last four years is nothing to do with me,” points out Gritt, reluctant to take any of the credit. “That’s all down to Mickey and Peter.” And that maybe so, but the days when clubs dropped out of the league and then bounced straight back are long gone; anyone in any doubt about that just need look at the forthcoming attractions at Hereford United, Doncaster Rovers, Scarborough and Chester City. Had it not been for Steve Gritt and his never say die spirit, the chances are we’d be contemplating a trip to Leigh RMI on October 26 instead of savouring the prospect of an away day at Selhurst Park. But did Steve really believe he could save us from the ultimate ignominy of sliding into the Conference?
“Absolutely,” he replies, without a moment’s hesitation. “I did. I seriously believed that we could do it. I had that amount of faith in my ability that I felt we had a genuine chance. I felt that if we could pick up two or three early results, then you never know where you can go from there. And obviously that first game,” he laughs, “…given the errr, reception I got before the match, I couldn’t have asked for a better start.”
Mmm - nothing personal, I mumble apologetically as we recall the volley of boos, whistles and catcalls that pierced the air as he was introduced to the 3’762 supporters who’d turned up that day.
”Yeah I realise that,” he replies, “but I thought, God if we don’t score soon who knows what sort of reception I’ll get at the end of the match. I look back now and have a good laugh about it all, but what I said at the time and what I still maintain to this day is that I was there simply to deal with the football and to give the fans some hope and a team that was having a go. Still – it was a very strange introduction, I must say.”
As it turned out Steve needn’t have worried. Miraculously the Albion went one up inside a matter of minutes and went on to run out comfortable winners against a benign Hull City side who obviously felt that it would have been impolite to intrude on the private tragedy being played out on the south coast. It finally ended 3-0, so what had Steve done differently?
“I don’t know really. I’d come in on the Thursday and let John Jackson take training. Then I came in on the Friday and took the players through my routine. Obviously it was quite a long session as it was my first game in charge. I needed to guide the squad; I needed to let them know what shape I wanted to play, how I wanted them to deal with free kicks and set pieces – that sort of thing. And you know - just walking off the training ground I could tell the players were up for it. It was a good sign.”
Another good sign was the rapport that Gritt was steadily developing with the supporters. Fans find it easy to warm to Gritt. He gives the impression that he cares about it as much as we do. It’s no coincidence that the largest contingent of non-Brighton supporters at Fans United were from Gritt’s previous club, Charlton Athletic.
“Yeah – I’d had feedback that they were going to bring a few,” smiles Gritt.
“My philosophy has always been to give everything my best shot and I think fans appreciate that. They see me put my lot in. They see me working as hard as I can. In fact I’ve probably calmed down a bit these days compared to how I was,” he laughs. “It’s just pure enjoyment. We go through the same emotions together. It’s always been the same.”
Over eight and a half thousand supporters of football packed the Goldstone for Fans United and a shell shocked Hartlepool were dispatched 5-0. The gap to the clubs above shrank a tad further and with the last ever game at the Goldstone rapidly approaching it seemed as if Brighton & Hove Albion FC - the team everybody had written off - might just have a chance. Suddenly the national media could sense the makings of a remarkable story beginning to unfold down on the Sussex coast. And the man at the centre of it had a name that was a gift for the headline writers.
“I had more exposure in those few months than at any other point in my entire career,” says Gritt. “But it was important that I kept the squad focused – that what we did as a team was no different to what we had been doing.”
He rifles around in the top draw of his desk and amazingly pulls out a wad of hand written papers entitled 1996 - 1997.
“Hmm … Cambridge away on the Saturday” says Steve, flicking through the pages. “One all. We should have won that: Maskell had a chance to seal it at the end. Look at this!” he suddenly exclaims, pointing at the pad. “I can’t believe it. I gave them two days off after that game.”
We were nearly there. The point at Cambridge had brought us within touching distance. With just two games to go Gritt had closed a yawning chasm of 11 points in mid-December to just 3 by the end of April. If the Albion beat Doncaster at home and Hereford lost away at Orient, it would be all square going into the final game of the season – away to Hereford.
“The players knew that there would be a huge crowd at the Goldstone that day, but they were very calm and relaxed – all I could do was just kept telling them that they still had nothing to lose.”
As Brighton tried to find a way past Doncaster Rovers news started to filter through from east London; Leyton Orient had taken the lead against Hereford. Suddenly, sixty eight minutes in, Stuart Storer reacted quickest to a rebound off the crossbar in front of the South Stand: one nil - the last and most important ever goal at the Goldstone.
By virtue of goal difference, the Albion had finally hauled themselves out of the basement. A draw next Saturday would guarantee safety and throughout the crowd of 11’341 the sense of overwhelming relief was mixed with an unwillingness to believe that this was really Goodbye Goldstone. As supporters surged onto the turf from every corner of the ground to stage one last pitch invasion Steve Gritt talked to the press in a cramped room below the West Stand.
“I had no idea about the Hereford score – not until we got back into changing room after the game. It was the strangest feeling in the world. I was doing the press conference and all I could hear was this constant bang bang banging. I had a bath, had a drink with the staff, and then I went back out onto the pitch at about six thirty, and there was nothing left. I’ve never seen a place ravaged like that place was that day. Everybody had taken their own seat and there were these huge holes in the pitch; but the biggest thing that surprised me was that the clocks had gone. Those huge clocks in the corners of the ground had just gone. They were massive. Jesus – I thought to myself, someone’s taken them too. I could imagine them walking down the Old Shoreham Road with these huge clocks on their backs – just amazing.”
So, did the Manager manage to bag a souvenir of his own to take away from the Goldstone?
“No. I felt it all belonged to the supporters. It was their day – it was their stadium. But I’ll tell you - it was the strangest feeling in the world. The thing is the following week I knew that occasionally we might want use the pitch – and I thought that’s scuppered that,” smiles Gritt. “Even during the week I’d be doing media interviews on the pitch about the final game and they’d be people coming through the gates with wheelbarrows and spades, digging up a couple of square metres of turf for their gardens.”
So for the first time since October 5th Brighton were off the bottom. The last game of the season would be a straight shoot out to decide who’d stay up and who’d go down. The Albion had never won at Hereford, but hey – not to worry; a draw would do. But the trouble was away draws had become collector’s items too – we’d only managed three all season. Yet in spite of that the spirit amongst the squad was buoyant.
“We felt optimistic going into that game - we had an idea that the crowd would work in our favour. We knew that we would be taking quite a few down there, but as it turned out I don’t think any of us envisaged that the support would be quite so tremendous. On the coach going to the ground there were cars full of Albion supporters absolutely everywhere. The driver stuck that song Things Can Only Get Better on the stereo and at that point I sensed that we all really believed we were going to do it.”
Things Can Only Get Better might not have been a bad choice for the half time music too; forty five minutes gone, one nil down and Brighton were creating nothing. Hereford had been bombing long balls into the Albion box and an attempted block by Kerry Mayo had cruelly looped over Mark Ormerod and nestled in the back of the Brighton net.
“Yeah - it wasn’t a great half time,” recalls Steve. “The first thing to do was to get to Kerry and tell him not to worry about the own goal. It happens in football. After that it was a question of asking them if they really wanted to play in the Conference, because at that point that’s exactly where we were headed. Then I put my calm head back on, tried to gee each of them up and sent them back out there.”
Half an hour to go and it was still Hereford to stay up and Brighton to go down and out. Gritt leant across, whispered something to his assistant Jeff Wood and 23 year old striker Robbie Reinelt is given the signal to start warming up. With fresh legs up front Brighton started to get more of the game and on 65 minutes a Craig Maskell shot smacked off the post and rebounded diagonally across the penalty area. Robbie Reinelt, (on for Paul McDonald), beat Ian Baird to the ball and stroked it into the far corner. One all, twenty-five agonizing minutes to go, and suddenly The Great Escape looked to be back on track.
“They didn’t have that board where the forth official shows how much time the ref has added in those days,” says Gritt. “I just kept on looking at my watch. It seemed to go on forever. I think it must have been about five to five by the time it finally finished. “
With official estimates that half of the crowd of eight and half thousand had come from Brighton (well exceeding the official allocation of 3’268), and the inevitable tension surrounding the fixture, dozens of riot police and dog handlers appeared from behind the stands and encircled the pitch. As Neil Barry blew for full time, the riot police were the first onto the pitch, quickly followed by the Hereford fans. The police stepped up in formation and formed a solid fluorescent yellow wall that Alan Hansen would be proud of across the half way line. On one side Brighton players and fans celebrated as if they had just won the league, whilst on the other side inconsolable Hereford players sank to their knees.
“I looked straight across to Graham Turner” (Hereford’s Director of Football), says Gritt “and their whole bench was in tears. There’s nothing you can say at a moment like that. But to be fair, Graham had a drink with me after the game and their Chairman Peter Hill came in and said some nice things too. For everything that had happened that day you have to remember that this was just a game of football.”
In six mad months between December ‘96 and May ‘97 Steve Gritt had achieved what everybody had been saying was impossible, yet he dismisses out of hand any notion that he should have been awarded the Manager of the Season title.
“I never wanted anything like that,” he says. “I just wanted to achieve my objectives for the club and for the supporters; that’s all I ever wanted.”
As the Seagulls headed back to Brighton, escorted by hordes of horn-tooting cars with scarves flapping from the windows, Steve was finally able to find a quiet moment to reflect. But can you learn from an experience like that, or is it just too intense?
“You learn to never give up,” says Gritt immediately. “No matter what. No matter how bad it looks - just never, ever give up.”
As I prepare to leave I briefly mention Paul Hayward’s summation in his book ‘More Than Ninety Minutes’.
Brighton and Hove Albion, writes Hayward, survived because the supporters wanted it to, and never stopped fighting, and because Steve Gritt and Dick Knight walked into the most blighted club in the land and made it a better, more civilised place to be.
“Really?” says Steve, sliding the book across the table to take a closer look “…that’s nice that is. Very nice indeed.”
Thanks to Steve Gritt for giving up his time to talk to the fanzine.
See you at Withdean in February Steve.
Hereford United vs Brighton & Hove Albion 3 May 1997.
Brighton: Ormerod, Humphrey, Tuck, Minton, Johnson, Morris, Storer (Hobson),
Mayo, Baird, Maskell, McDonald (Reinelt). Subs: Hobson, Rust, Reinelt
Manager: Mr S Gritt
A More Civilised Place To Be
When Brighton and Millwall emerge from the dressing rooms at 2.55pm on 22nd February 2003 they will be greeted by what will probably be the biggest ovation of the season. But for once the cheers from the home support ringing out across the wooded slopes of Withdean won’t be reserved exclusively for the Albion. Because making his way across the pitch to the visitor’s dugout will be a wiry, track-suited figure who’ll always command a special place in the history of this club: Millwall’s Assistant Manager, Albion Legend and all round top bloke Steve Gritt will be back in town.
Bry Nylon asks him if he’s relishing his day at the seaside...
“Yeah - it’s going be a strange experience,” says Steve, chuckling quietly to himself. “Even though we’ve played Brighton recently in cup competitions I wasn’t directly involved myself. But now I’m working with the first team, and I’m really looking forward to it.”
Steve pauses for a half a second. “All the vociferous people…” he asks with a smile, “…they’re in that big stand on the far side aren’t they?”
It’s late on a Friday afternoon in early July, and a thin veil of soft, grey drizzle is wafting across Millwall's south London training complex. Pre-season sprints have finished for the day and angry looking storm clouds loom menacingly over Bromley, completely blotting out the view of Crystal Palace on the horizon; maybe the weather’s not so bad after all…
Steve and I sit in his first floor office overlooking the deserted practice pitches. A cardboard box stuffed full of brand new Mitre footballs props open the door and one of those magnetic tactic planner thingies is screwed to the far wall – all in all it’s definitely a proper football coach’s room. In the corner of the office a television is tuned into coverage of the Wimbledon men’s semi final, and every so often my questions are punctuated by brief bursts of polite applause from SW19. This is my first attempt at interviewing, and I’m grateful for the support.
Anyway – back to business: I’ve come to talk to the man who saved the Seagulls. In December 1996 Steve Gritt accepted what the press were dubbing the worst job in football and to be honest it wasn’t difficult to see why. Brighton & Hove Albion were holed below the waterline and sinking fast. The club had been anchored to the foot of the Third Division since early October and hadn’t won at home since beating Scarborough 3-2 at the beginning of September. A few short weeks prior to Gritt’s arrival the last ever FA Cup tie to be staged at the Goldstone ended in numbing humiliation as mighty Sudbury Town became the second non-league outfit in three years to dump Brighton out of the competition in the first round. And that was just the good news: with the ground sold to property developers and no credible alternative in the pipeline the club was homeless and broke. A stench of decay pervaded everything about the Goldstone and with the board and the supporters locked in a bitter war, the FA were seemingly unwilling or unable to intervene.
Yet today, somehow, just five short seasons on, Archer and Bellotti are gone, the club is applying for planning permission for an extension to the trophy cabinet and we’re back in Brighton, playing in Division One. Okay, so we still don’t have a permanent home, but when Steve Gritt walked into the club simply preserving our league status would have seemed like a gift from the Gods.
“What’s happened over the last four years is nothing to do with me,” points out Gritt, reluctant to take any of the credit. “That’s all down to Mickey and Peter.” And that maybe so, but the days when clubs dropped out of the league and then bounced straight back are long gone; anyone in any doubt about that just need look at the forthcoming attractions at Hereford United, Doncaster Rovers, Scarborough and Chester City. Had it not been for Steve Gritt and his never say die spirit, the chances are we’d be contemplating a trip to Leigh RMI on October 26 instead of savouring the prospect of an away day at Selhurst Park. But did Steve really believe he could save us from the ultimate ignominy of sliding into the Conference?
“Absolutely,” he replies, without a moment’s hesitation. “I did. I seriously believed that we could do it. I had that amount of faith in my ability that I felt we had a genuine chance. I felt that if we could pick up two or three early results, then you never know where you can go from there. And obviously that first game,” he laughs, “…given the errr, reception I got before the match, I couldn’t have asked for a better start.”
Mmm - nothing personal, I mumble apologetically as we recall the volley of boos, whistles and catcalls that pierced the air as he was introduced to the 3’762 supporters who’d turned up that day.
”Yeah I realise that,” he replies, “but I thought, God if we don’t score soon who knows what sort of reception I’ll get at the end of the match. I look back now and have a good laugh about it all, but what I said at the time and what I still maintain to this day is that I was there simply to deal with the football and to give the fans some hope and a team that was having a go. Still – it was a very strange introduction, I must say.”
As it turned out Steve needn’t have worried. Miraculously the Albion went one up inside a matter of minutes and went on to run out comfortable winners against a benign Hull City side who obviously felt that it would have been impolite to intrude on the private tragedy being played out on the south coast. It finally ended 3-0, so what had Steve done differently?
“I don’t know really. I’d come in on the Thursday and let John Jackson take training. Then I came in on the Friday and took the players through my routine. Obviously it was quite a long session as it was my first game in charge. I needed to guide the squad; I needed to let them know what shape I wanted to play, how I wanted them to deal with free kicks and set pieces – that sort of thing. And you know - just walking off the training ground I could tell the players were up for it. It was a good sign.”
Another good sign was the rapport that Gritt was steadily developing with the supporters. Fans find it easy to warm to Gritt. He gives the impression that he cares about it as much as we do. It’s no coincidence that the largest contingent of non-Brighton supporters at Fans United were from Gritt’s previous club, Charlton Athletic.
“Yeah – I’d had feedback that they were going to bring a few,” smiles Gritt.
“My philosophy has always been to give everything my best shot and I think fans appreciate that. They see me put my lot in. They see me working as hard as I can. In fact I’ve probably calmed down a bit these days compared to how I was,” he laughs. “It’s just pure enjoyment. We go through the same emotions together. It’s always been the same.”
Over eight and a half thousand supporters of football packed the Goldstone for Fans United and a shell shocked Hartlepool were dispatched 5-0. The gap to the clubs above shrank a tad further and with the last ever game at the Goldstone rapidly approaching it seemed as if Brighton & Hove Albion FC - the team everybody had written off - might just have a chance. Suddenly the national media could sense the makings of a remarkable story beginning to unfold down on the Sussex coast. And the man at the centre of it had a name that was a gift for the headline writers.
“I had more exposure in those few months than at any other point in my entire career,” says Gritt. “But it was important that I kept the squad focused – that what we did as a team was no different to what we had been doing.”
He rifles around in the top draw of his desk and amazingly pulls out a wad of hand written papers entitled 1996 - 1997.
“Hmm … Cambridge away on the Saturday” says Steve, flicking through the pages. “One all. We should have won that: Maskell had a chance to seal it at the end. Look at this!” he suddenly exclaims, pointing at the pad. “I can’t believe it. I gave them two days off after that game.”
We were nearly there. The point at Cambridge had brought us within touching distance. With just two games to go Gritt had closed a yawning chasm of 11 points in mid-December to just 3 by the end of April. If the Albion beat Doncaster at home and Hereford lost away at Orient, it would be all square going into the final game of the season – away to Hereford.
“The players knew that there would be a huge crowd at the Goldstone that day, but they were very calm and relaxed – all I could do was just kept telling them that they still had nothing to lose.”
As Brighton tried to find a way past Doncaster Rovers news started to filter through from east London; Leyton Orient had taken the lead against Hereford. Suddenly, sixty eight minutes in, Stuart Storer reacted quickest to a rebound off the crossbar in front of the South Stand: one nil - the last and most important ever goal at the Goldstone.
By virtue of goal difference, the Albion had finally hauled themselves out of the basement. A draw next Saturday would guarantee safety and throughout the crowd of 11’341 the sense of overwhelming relief was mixed with an unwillingness to believe that this was really Goodbye Goldstone. As supporters surged onto the turf from every corner of the ground to stage one last pitch invasion Steve Gritt talked to the press in a cramped room below the West Stand.
“I had no idea about the Hereford score – not until we got back into changing room after the game. It was the strangest feeling in the world. I was doing the press conference and all I could hear was this constant bang bang banging. I had a bath, had a drink with the staff, and then I went back out onto the pitch at about six thirty, and there was nothing left. I’ve never seen a place ravaged like that place was that day. Everybody had taken their own seat and there were these huge holes in the pitch; but the biggest thing that surprised me was that the clocks had gone. Those huge clocks in the corners of the ground had just gone. They were massive. Jesus – I thought to myself, someone’s taken them too. I could imagine them walking down the Old Shoreham Road with these huge clocks on their backs – just amazing.”
So, did the Manager manage to bag a souvenir of his own to take away from the Goldstone?
“No. I felt it all belonged to the supporters. It was their day – it was their stadium. But I’ll tell you - it was the strangest feeling in the world. The thing is the following week I knew that occasionally we might want use the pitch – and I thought that’s scuppered that,” smiles Gritt. “Even during the week I’d be doing media interviews on the pitch about the final game and they’d be people coming through the gates with wheelbarrows and spades, digging up a couple of square metres of turf for their gardens.”
So for the first time since October 5th Brighton were off the bottom. The last game of the season would be a straight shoot out to decide who’d stay up and who’d go down. The Albion had never won at Hereford, but hey – not to worry; a draw would do. But the trouble was away draws had become collector’s items too – we’d only managed three all season. Yet in spite of that the spirit amongst the squad was buoyant.
“We felt optimistic going into that game - we had an idea that the crowd would work in our favour. We knew that we would be taking quite a few down there, but as it turned out I don’t think any of us envisaged that the support would be quite so tremendous. On the coach going to the ground there were cars full of Albion supporters absolutely everywhere. The driver stuck that song Things Can Only Get Better on the stereo and at that point I sensed that we all really believed we were going to do it.”
Things Can Only Get Better might not have been a bad choice for the half time music too; forty five minutes gone, one nil down and Brighton were creating nothing. Hereford had been bombing long balls into the Albion box and an attempted block by Kerry Mayo had cruelly looped over Mark Ormerod and nestled in the back of the Brighton net.
“Yeah - it wasn’t a great half time,” recalls Steve. “The first thing to do was to get to Kerry and tell him not to worry about the own goal. It happens in football. After that it was a question of asking them if they really wanted to play in the Conference, because at that point that’s exactly where we were headed. Then I put my calm head back on, tried to gee each of them up and sent them back out there.”
Half an hour to go and it was still Hereford to stay up and Brighton to go down and out. Gritt leant across, whispered something to his assistant Jeff Wood and 23 year old striker Robbie Reinelt is given the signal to start warming up. With fresh legs up front Brighton started to get more of the game and on 65 minutes a Craig Maskell shot smacked off the post and rebounded diagonally across the penalty area. Robbie Reinelt, (on for Paul McDonald), beat Ian Baird to the ball and stroked it into the far corner. One all, twenty-five agonizing minutes to go, and suddenly The Great Escape looked to be back on track.
“They didn’t have that board where the forth official shows how much time the ref has added in those days,” says Gritt. “I just kept on looking at my watch. It seemed to go on forever. I think it must have been about five to five by the time it finally finished. “
With official estimates that half of the crowd of eight and half thousand had come from Brighton (well exceeding the official allocation of 3’268), and the inevitable tension surrounding the fixture, dozens of riot police and dog handlers appeared from behind the stands and encircled the pitch. As Neil Barry blew for full time, the riot police were the first onto the pitch, quickly followed by the Hereford fans. The police stepped up in formation and formed a solid fluorescent yellow wall that Alan Hansen would be proud of across the half way line. On one side Brighton players and fans celebrated as if they had just won the league, whilst on the other side inconsolable Hereford players sank to their knees.
“I looked straight across to Graham Turner” (Hereford’s Director of Football), says Gritt “and their whole bench was in tears. There’s nothing you can say at a moment like that. But to be fair, Graham had a drink with me after the game and their Chairman Peter Hill came in and said some nice things too. For everything that had happened that day you have to remember that this was just a game of football.”
In six mad months between December ‘96 and May ‘97 Steve Gritt had achieved what everybody had been saying was impossible, yet he dismisses out of hand any notion that he should have been awarded the Manager of the Season title.
“I never wanted anything like that,” he says. “I just wanted to achieve my objectives for the club and for the supporters; that’s all I ever wanted.”
As the Seagulls headed back to Brighton, escorted by hordes of horn-tooting cars with scarves flapping from the windows, Steve was finally able to find a quiet moment to reflect. But can you learn from an experience like that, or is it just too intense?
“You learn to never give up,” says Gritt immediately. “No matter what. No matter how bad it looks - just never, ever give up.”
As I prepare to leave I briefly mention Paul Hayward’s summation in his book ‘More Than Ninety Minutes’.
Brighton and Hove Albion, writes Hayward, survived because the supporters wanted it to, and never stopped fighting, and because Steve Gritt and Dick Knight walked into the most blighted club in the land and made it a better, more civilised place to be.
“Really?” says Steve, sliding the book across the table to take a closer look “…that’s nice that is. Very nice indeed.”
Thanks to Steve Gritt for giving up his time to talk to the fanzine.
See you at Withdean in February Steve.
Hereford United vs Brighton & Hove Albion 3 May 1997.
Brighton: Ormerod, Humphrey, Tuck, Minton, Johnson, Morris, Storer (Hobson),
Mayo, Baird, Maskell, McDonald (Reinelt). Subs: Hobson, Rust, Reinelt
Manager: Mr S Gritt
Not Andy Naylor
Well-known member
The best Albion article i've read this week (and there have been many) and now usurped by the above post
Matt Barlow, the writer, is a top guy and supports the MASSIVE (even though his dad played for and coached Sheffield United).
West Upper Seagull
Well-known member
Good job the rule was on goals scored and not goal difference...
What a day that was, it will always be the MOST important game the club will ever play...I count myself privileged to have been there!
That is a brilliant read - haven't seen it before and shows what a humble bloke he was.
As a sidenote - just looked up his Wikipedia - Robert Squire Reinelt.
Nice one Squire.