Nigel Martyn talks plane crashes, books and the regret of Istanbul: “Even if the club played, I shouldn’t have” - The Square Ball 23/9/21

BIG NIGE

Written by Rob Conlon

For better or worse, Leeds United were very often The Big Story under Peter Ridsdale. It could be exciting, but it could also be frightening. Thankfully, we knew that whatever trouble Ridsdale, David O’Leary, Lee Bowyer or Jonathan Woodgate got us into, when it came down to Saturday afternoon, the opposition were going to have to get past Nigel Martyn. He was a calm, stoic, reassuring presence between the posts.

Martyn hasn’t changed much since. After interviewing him with Dan Moylan, for The Extra Ball, our Michael Normanton said speaking to Nigel made him feel warm and fuzzy. Listening to Leeds United’s greatest ever goalkeeper speak, I can imagine being a defender in front of him, hanging on to every shouted instruction, knowing it’s the right thing to do because Nigel Martyn says so.

It’s equally soothing to hear Martyn discussing some of the more controversial moments from his time at Elland Road. His voice remains forthright, while his takes align with those of the fans, evidence that for all the hype, bluster and cold hard cash surrounding Leeds at the time, there was always a human voice in the middle of it, able to keep things in perspective and recognise what mattered and what was bullshit.

”The plane lurches forward. And then there’s that weird second where nobody does anything”

The crash landing on the runway of Stansted Airport when the squad was travelling home from an away defeat at West Ham in 1998 is no laughing matter. When one of the engines caught fire shortly after takeoff, pilot John Hackett first thought it was a bomb. Hackett managed to land the plane, halting it just short of the M11 motorway. Ian Harte needed counselling before he could get on a flight again. But we need to corroborate a story Martyn told at the time. According to reports, as the passengers tried to escape with the engine still ablaze, the typically matter of fact Martyn was required to give a hesitant Ridsdale a helping hand — by shoving him in his back and out of the plane.

“People reacted differently,” Martyn says. “It was a weird one. We were playing a [card] game of hearts across the aisle. We started taking off, the engine goes on fire. Everyone starts shouting, ‘Get it down!’ which, probably against protocol, the pilot does. You can feel the plane go off the runway onto grass. It’s a bit bumpy, comes to a halt, the front wheel snaps, and the plane lurches forward. And then there’s that weird second where nobody does anything. There’s a pause.

“I remember Lee Bowyer getting up to go to the overhead lockers and get his bag out. I can remember the chairman running down the aisle of the plane because his son was at the back and he was at the front and he obviously wanted to make sure his son was getting off okay.

“Robert Molenaar actually said, ‘Can we hurry up, it’s getting warm here,’ because he was sat right next to the engine. We were filing to get out. I was close to the middle of the airplane, so onto the wing was the way to go. Peter was in front of me and it was quite a small gap to get through. He’s gone to step through and then he’s come back. And then he’s gone head-first to go through, and then he’s come back. I’m thinking, ‘Hurry up.’ He’s gone to step through again and I thought, ‘He just needs a little bit of help.’ There may have been hands on his back just edging him out onto the wing, shall we say, which then allowed a few more of us to get out and run.”

Ridsdale is an understandably maligned figure among Leeds fans, but Martyn has a degree of sympathy for him. Ridsdale wasn’t the only person on the board responsible for gambling Leeds’ future. And as for the ‘Publicity Pete’ nickname, it’s not for Big Nige, but he can acknowledge, “people’s personalities are different.” Which brings us to David O’Leary, the then assistant manager, who was hailed as a hero that night at Stansted Airport.

“It was a strange situation,” Martyn says. “Yes, there was fear. The weird thing from my point of view was I thought, ‘The plane is going to come down, it’s going to stop, we’re all going to get off and we’re all going to be okay.’ Luckily that is what happened and everyone pretty much did get off injury free. [O’Leary] had done his shoulder and appeared on GMTV the next morning with his arm in a sling, but what they probably didn’t tell you was that he was trying to open a window outwards using his shoulder instead of pulling it inwards, and then he fell over as he was running.

“We all got out. I still had my hand of hearts. I had all the low hearts, it was a really good hand. It was only Jimmy who had thrown his cards away. Jimmy probably had a really bad hand and thought, ‘I’ve got a good way of getting out of this.’”

“Do your book when you’ve retired by all means”

When O’Leary took over as manager from George Graham, he was never shy about media appearances. Despite building a fearless Leeds team that ransacked the rest of Europe, O’Leary’s infamous decision to publish the book ‘Leeds United on Trial’ remains part of the timeline of Doing a Leeds.

The book was released in January 2002, a month after Jonathan Woodgate and Lee Bowyer’s trial for the assault of Sarfraz Najeib ended with Bowyer acquitted and Woodgate convicted of affray. Leeds failed to win in their next seven league games, dropping from 1st to 6th, were knocked out of the FA Cup at Cardiff, and were beaten over two legs by PSV in the UEFA Cup. That loss of form cost Leeds a place in the following season’s Champions League, lighting the touchpaper of the subsequent financial meltdown.

“I don’t think that was the best idea,” Martyn says of O’Leary’s book. “I think he probably saw an opportunity to make some money out of it. There were a lot of things happening around that time with Lee and Jonathan and the plane crash — lots of things for him to talk about. He was probably contacted by someone who said, ‘Do you want to write a book?’ and he thought, ‘Yeah, now is a good time.’ In retrospect it was slightly damaging for everyone at the club.

“Do your book when you’ve retired by all means, that’s absolutely fine, but you’re still the manager of the club. It’s fine if it’s just a general life story, but it was far too inside the dressing room. That’s something that if you want to do later, when you’ve retired or are no longer at the club, that’s fine. But at that point he was still the manager and I think the timing is then a little bit strange.”

”It is my biggest regret in football that we even played that game”

The issue of O’Leary’s book is trivial compared to the tragic trip to Istanbul for a UEFA Cup semi-final with Galatasaray in 2000, the night Leeds fans Chris Loftus and Kevin Speight were murdered. For once, Martyn’s voice is unsteady, as he talks with pained sighs, recalling the “biggest regret” of his career. Leeds played the fixture at the behest of UEFA without a minute’s silence or Galatasaray players even wearing black armbands.

“The hatred [from Galatasaray fans] was there from the moment we landed. My overriding feeling was, ‘Right, let’s make sure we get a result here,’ because they were being so nasty when we first landed. Okay, if you’re going to be like that, let’s put on a performance and win this game.

“We trained that night and came back after training. Some lads were in bed because it was getting pretty late. There was a knock on the door and everyone’s out in the corridor and the news is coming through that two of our fans have been killed. It was a little bit of disbelief.

“Thinking about it now, it is my biggest regret in football that we even played that game. Guys go over there and they spend their money and they support their team. Why can’t they go and have a few beers and a sing song if that’s what they want to do? They’re not hurting anyone, they’re not up to anything. To go to watch your team play and not come back is wrong.

“We shouldn’t have played that game. Even now I think that even if the club played it, I shouldn’t have. I don’t know how my career would have gone had I done that. I can remember the chairman saying, ‘Look, we’ve got to play. UEFA have been very strong about this. The game is going ahead. We’ve got to play.’ I think I’d rather we hadn’t as a club. I’d rather we said, ‘No, we’re not going to play. I don’t care if you kick us out of the competition. I don’t care if you ban us for a year. We’re making a stand for supporters and this sort of thing cannot happen.’ Two guys have been killed, and they’re family men, they’ve got their own families around them, and the hurt that causes is far more important than a game of football, kicking a bag of wind around.”

Martyn and fellow goalkeeper Paul Robinson were the first Leeds players to enter the pitch to warm up in Istanbul. Police had to form a protective tunnel of riot shields so they could get to the pitch safely as lighters, stones and coins rained down from the stands. Despite the complicated feelings about not wanting to play, says Martyn, “I don’t think I’ve ever been as desperate to win a game of football in my life.”

Leeds couldn’t win that night, losing 2-0 in Turkey before a 2-2 draw at Elland Road. Martyn was hurting then and is still hurting to this day. He is the only Leeds player from that squad to condemn Harry Kewell’s subsequent move to Galatasaray. Listening to Martyn speak with such emotion about that time is a reminder of why we loved him so much then, and will always continue to cherish him as one of our own.

“We all feel aggrieved — aggrieved isn’t a big enough word. It was wrong. Those guys should have been there supporting us. I’d much rather have been beaten 6-0 over there and 10-0 at home and those two guys come home. I don’t care. It has quite affected me really that they came to watch and didn’t come home. There was no real consequence to that, and that’s the thing that really grinds with me.”