Open letter to Lawro by Kristian walsh The Anfield Wrap [Why can’t the government just say ‘right, here are the facts, here are all the papers,’ and then just let the people make their minds up? Maybe there are lots of people to blame, maybe there are Liverpool supporters to blame, Stephen, and if there are, well, they have to deal with those consequences, but we just basically want to know the truth.” -Mark Lawrenson, BBC FIVE LIVE, 23rd August 2011 You don’t know who I am. In fact, you don’t know who any of us are. But we know who you are. You’re Mark Lawrenson. Maybe you’re that Mark Lawrenson who was omitted from your country’s Euro ’88 squad because Jack Charlton was worried you would steal Mick McCarthy’s wife. Maybe you’re that Mark Lawrenson who was banned from every drinking establishment within a 22 mile radius from Liverpool City Centre for exposing himself to women as they approached the lavatories in every bar on Mathew Street. Maybe you’re that Mark Lawrenson who pushed a dithering 82-year-old woman – mother, grandmother, sister, friend – under a bus in 1992. If you are, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. We know you didn’t do any of those things. There’s nowhere, on record, that states you were an adulterer, exhibitionist or murderer. In fact, if Mick McCarthy, Liverpool City Council and the 82-year-old woman – bless her – were asked to refute those accusations, they would. But that didn’t stop you from tarnishing the memory of 96 Liverpool fans who went to watch a football match, never to return; it didn’t stop you uttering the contemplation of attributing blame to Liverpool supporters for the events of April 15 1989 – the same supporters who endure a living hell every day having experienced the darkest day in the club’s history. And you did this despite what was evidenced in the Taylor Report, despite Lord Justice Taylor’s assertion that fans “were not drunk, nor even worse for drink”. In fact, given you struggle to display even a modicum of intelligence and comprehension on television, here’s some bullet points about what caused the Hillsborough disaster, courtesy of www.constrast.org/hillsborough: 1. The immediate cause of the Disaster was the failure to cut off access to the central pens once gate C had been opened. This caused the overcrowding which led to the Disaster. 2. The central pens (3 and 4) were already overfull because there was no numerical control of entry nor any effective visual monitoring of crowd density. 3. Under the strain of overcrowding in Pen 3, a barrier collapsed, exacerbated by what Taylor referred to as the “sluggish reaction and response when the crush occurred”. Lack of leadership and the small size and number of gates in the perimeter fencing hindered rescue attempts. 4. Gate C, an ‘exit’ gate between the inner concourse and the outside, was opened by the police because of the dangerous congestion at the turnstiles. There was no recognition, either by the club or the police, that unless fans arrived steadily over a long, drawn-out period the turnstiles would not be capable of coping with the large numbers involved. This was made worse by the fact that the operational order and police tactics did not consider the possibility of a large concentration of late arrivals. There are no ifs or maybes about it. Liverpool fans were not to blame. Ifs and maybes are not good enough, Lawro. They can’t be used liberally. They do not detach all responsibility to the preceding words. If you’d not been such a dire manager at Oxford United and Peterborough United, would you have the prominence you have now with a platform to proclaim whatever falsehoods you choose? Maybe, instead, you’d merely sit atop of a plastic bucking bronco, legs wrapped its torso, arms around a greasy pole, clinging on to the lower league merry-go-round. If you never played for Liverpool, would you have your backside imprinted on the Match of the Day sofa? Would anyone care about an ex-Brighton centre-back from the 1970s? It’s hard to imagine Gary Lineker, condescendence dripping from him as much as his spray tan, introducing famous defensive duo Chris Cattlin and Paul Clark as his guests for the week. Liverpool made you. The club turned you from Mark Lawrenson into the all-singing, all-dancing Lawro that graces the nation’s screens. One half of the Hansen and Lawrenson double act; the pair who won in Rome, the duo who won the double in 1986 and won the league one year conceding just 12 league goals at Anfield. You even have your own cartoon character. That means you’re a custodian to this club and to the people of this city. The man who sits beside you is. Thompson is. Aldridge is. Their thoughts on football matters are irrelevant. They can want Benitez sacked or slate Dirk Kuyt. They’re needed when it matters most – with the greatest respect to both Rafa and Dirk. You just remain silent, or worse, propagate lies on national radio. I remember hearing the comments you made during Anfield’s Truth Day in January 2007 against Arsenal. I stood next to my brother, tears welling inside my eyes as we formed a small dot on the Kop. The collective dots spelt out the one thing we all want: The Truth. Every repetition of Justice for the 96 grew louder, fiercer, angrier. The flame of justice that will never, ever extinguish. Maybe if we shout loud enough, television will hear it; maybe if we shout loud enough, the government will hear it. When I watched the match back after returning home, there it was. Pride welled inside me, much like the tears had hours before. My throat hoarse, my ears strained, I listened to the commentary. Your co-commentator John Motson referenced it; he had to. He couldn’t ignore it. For six minutes, the kick of the ball could not be heard. Arsenal fans, originally – and understandably – getting behind their team, silenced in awe. Justice. That’s all we want, that’s all we ask, and it’s all we can receive with help from the media. Help from people like you. The six minutes stopped; the emotion didn’t. The Kop reverberated around my living room, just as it did around my body at the time. We’d done everyone affected by that tragic day proud. And then came your comment as the noise slowly subsided, one that rankles still to this day. “Perhaps we can get back to the football” you quipped, with that disdainful, expressionless tone. This isn’t about football, Mark. This is about a city – a city who you had the fortune to represent – demanding to know what actually happened that day. A city who demands it for some sort of closure; a city who demands it so their names are no longer tarnished in the eyes of some people, people whose misinformation stems from people such as you. You. A former Liverpool player. And to think you had the temerity and vulgarity to use the disaster to insult Rafael Benitez, a man who has done more for the victim’s families in a few years than you have for the entirety of your television career. All it took that night in January 2007 was a short word; all it took on the radio last week was a simple rebuttal. You’re nothing but a hypocrite. Every single time you sit in your BBC dressing room, staring at the mirror to take part in your famous double act, remember how you got there; remember why you’re not sitting on a coach back to Exeter after a 2-0 defeat away to Hartlepool. Every time a supporter asks you for a photograph or autograph; every time you refer to Liverpool as ‘we’ on television; every time you make personal financial gain by recollecting stories of the 1980s title-winning teams under Paisley and Fagan to a group of teenagers at a sportsman’s dinner, remember this: it’s the badge on the front that matters, not the number on the back – and the Liverbird will never be upon your chest. Your existence as a Liverpool player may be documented on poor quality highlight reels, but that’s all that remains; in the eyes of many, your time on the pitch is a distant memory. You’re no longer Liverpool’s Mark Lawrenson. You never were. You’re Lawro – an embittered, misinformed ingrate who has no respect, nor compassion, for the people of this city. You may have had your hands on the shirt of Liverpool Football Club, but Liverpool Football Club, and its supporters, should wash its hands of you. Yours, with much more sincerity than you can ever muster. Kristian Walsh
