Manchester United's trip to Galatasaray in 1993 remains infamous
When will Manchester United land in Istanbul on this week As for the Champions League decider against Galatasaray, one thing is certain: the welcome will not be the same as the one they faced 30 years ago.
Media members shared a charter plane at the time. with United players. I was there and witnessed one of the most extraordinary episodes in the history of sports. And if the crowd of officials and police who filled the baggage claim area as we stepped off the plane that November day in 1993 seemed a little overexcited, it was nothing compared to what lay ahead at the airport. main lobby.
There were several hundred locals gathered there, with many push signs written on pieces of cardboard on the glass barrier. All of them were in English. None of them were friendly.
“Welcome, Mr. Cantona. After this, you will say goodbye, Mrs. Cantona,” the strangely mysterious threat sounded. The other – “You call us barbarians, but we remember Hazel, Hillsborough” – was more appropriate. But it was the one held by the guy who came to mark the event.
“Welcome to hell,” it read.
Turkish fans show disgraceful message as they welcome Manchester United to Istanbul Ataturk airport. Photo: Alami
Looking back almost three decades later, it still resonates. In my entire life of watching football, I have never experienced anything like what happened in Istanbul at that time. It was a football match in which local fans, seething with nationalistic sentiments, decided to do their part to bloody the nose of European football royalty. This is often said, but back then the crowd really was the 12th man.
United arrived in Turkey for the second round of the Champions League, having paid for their complacency in the first. Like their current successors in Copenhagen, they recently took a 2-0 lead at Old Trafford and then quickly squandered that lead. Galatasaray equalized by half-time and took the lead soon after. Only Eric Cantona's 81st-minute equalizer salvaged United's then unbeaten home record in European competition.
So they knew they had landed in Turkey for the second leg, having conceded so many away goals, just once. victory will do. Walking behind the players as they nervously made their way through the noisy cheering group, it was obvious that this would not be an easy task.
Alex Ferguson gave an upbeat press conference at the Ali Sami Yen Stadium that evening, confident his team had what it took to progress. However, the first question was whether he had ever experienced a riot like the one at the airport.
“Was it a riot, guys?” came the cheerful answer. “You've obviously never been to a wedding in Glasgow.”
After he finished, I walked out onto the field, looking around at the bowl-like empty outdoor terraces that we were told would be raised the following night. In the center of the circle was Denis Law, the then ITV commentator. I asked if he had played here.
“Yes, for Scotland,” he replied.
What was the atmosphere like? His answer was brief.
“I… myself.”
Bryan Robson leads Manchester United leave, followed by Peter Schmeichel, in a noisy atmosphere at the Ali Sami Yen Stadium. Photo: PA
On match evening the media bus landed two hours before kick-off. When we were dropped off, there was no one visible outside. Not a soul. It's as if we arrived on the wrong day. I asked the bus driver where everyone was. “Inside,” came the answer. “They've been here since 9 am.”
They were there, everything was fine. Once at the stadium, he was enveloped in a deafening roar, like a plane taking off. At the front of the upper tier stood men drumming large large drums. Behind them was a constant swirl of firecrackers and flares. The playing surface was enveloped in a cloud of gunpowder smoke. The singing was continuous, with one stand screaming and the other responding with perfect coordination. And this was more than 90 minutes before kick-off.
The only place on the field that I could see was in the away area. Around 300 United fans stood surrounded by police. The rest of the 1,200 travelers do not appear to have arrived yet.
Half an hour before kick-off, at the entrance to the underground tunnel leading to the dressing rooms, a phalanx of police formed a turtle shield protecting United players as they entered the pitch to warm up. . Rockets fired from the stands bounced off the shields. There was a loud chant of welcome: “Fuck you, you f***ing Manchester.”
Just before it all started, I noticed from the press box that the Prime Minister had arrived Turkey Tansu Ciller waving to the crowd. Unpopular in the polls, she took the opportunity to associate herself with Turkish sporting success.
And what a success it turned out to be. The noise continued, as if singing alone could lead to victory, everything played out in an ear-bleeding cacophony. United looked disorganized as the rumblings began to ring out; unfocused.
Due to UEFA's then-restrictions on foreign players (which considered Ireland, Wales and Scotland internationals to be foreigners in English teams), Ferguson was forced to change his favored squad by dropping Mark Hughes. Without the bullish striker, United seemed toothless. Indeed, only a superb double save from Peter Schmeichel from Hakan Sukur (whose popularity at the club propelled him to a further career as a member of the Turkish Grand Assembly) kept them in this position.
With three minutes remaining and the game still scoreless, the ball was kicked out of bounds into a scrum of substitutes, photographers and police. Who, by the way, refused to return it to the United player. Seeing the robbery, Cantona ran 20 yards and knocked the ball out of the hands of the policeman who was holding it.
When the whistle blew in the 90th minute (not the modern extended time for the referee, who seemed eager to get to locker room unharmed), chaos ensued. Galatasaray turned the tables, crushed the former champions on away goals and advanced to the next round.
Sukur ran towards the crowd, waving his shirt over his head. He was never able to do this, plunging under the human pyramid. The field was filled with thousands of people jumping and dancing in delight. It turned out that most of the invaders were police officers. Their dogs – some wearing the red and yellow Galatasaray collars – pounced on the red-shirted United players as they walked disconsolately towards the tunnel. On the way, Cantona said something to the referee and received a red card. As he left the field, accompanied by captain Bryan Robson, a policeman hit him on the back of the head, apparently still angered by his fall kick. When Robson turned to object, a shield was thrown at him.
I went outside to see what was happening. There were rumors of a famous general victory. Thousands of people from all over the city came to the site to join in the celebration. A truck with half a dozen dancing young people on the hood drove along the overpass that bordered the stadium. Car horns blared everywhere and pyrotechnics filled the sky. It was chaos. After I asked a question to a local resident in English, he advised me to go back inside immediately. “You're not safe here,” he said.
Back inside, I walked down the tunnel where I was told Ferguson would be speaking to the press. It was full of police, pushing and shoving. I headed to the United dressing room, where I expected to hear the sound of breaking dishes. But the manager was more subtle. He let the silence do his talking. For the first time that evening, everything was quiet, overwhelmed by defeat. Ferguson eventually appeared for a brief meeting with the press.
Manchester United manager Alex Ferguson (left) and his assistant Brian Kidd. on the Ali Sami Yen Stadium field. Photo: Alami
“We just didn’t play well enough. In the end, it was desperation. Destruction,” he said. “I'm not going to make any excuses. The biggest loss today is our European experience.”
Although, given the European experience, this had to be remembered. When I returned to the pitch there were only 300 unhappy United fans left on the ground. They were surrounded by police as if they posed a threat to national security. I shouted to one: “Where are everyone else?”
“Arrested,” came the answer.
Some were actually selected. Apart from the many who were refused entry to the stadium despite having tickets, or the several hundred people deported before kick-off, six were held in an Istanbul prison for the next 28 days before being unceremoniously returned to Blighty. Their crimes? Mainly under the radar of the police, apparently keen to do their part to improve their team's chances.
As for the locals, the hangover was significant. After an evening of extended celebration, the casualty list included two people killed by bullets fired into the air, another man who fell drunk under a train, and dozens of people taken to hospital injured by a cascade of fireworks.
It so happened that the result did not give the slightest hint of what lay ahead: at the next stage of the competition, Galatasaray finished last in its group. United, embarrassed by their eviction, took solace in winning the home double. It's safe to say that such consolation is unlikely to be available if Erik ten Hag and his team face similar discomfort on Wednesday.
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