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| Memoirs of an Asian Football Casual: hooliganism gave me a way to fit in | Memoirs of an Asian Football Casual: hooliganism gave me a way to fit in |
| (2 months later) | |
| It wasn’t so much the violence that attracted Riaz Khan to football hooliganism as the clothes. In the early 1980s, Khan became a casual – a new breed of thug that took pride in wearing the latest designer gear. He was one of the first Asian hooligans to join Leicester City’s Baby Squad, so called because they looked so young. | It wasn’t so much the violence that attracted Riaz Khan to football hooliganism as the clothes. In the early 1980s, Khan became a casual – a new breed of thug that took pride in wearing the latest designer gear. He was one of the first Asian hooligans to join Leicester City’s Baby Squad, so called because they looked so young. |
| In 2010, Khan wrote his autobiography, Memoirs of An Asian Football Casual, a fascinating glimpse into a time when the far right was on the march and many politicians were doing their best to sow racial discord. What makes his memoir – which has just been turned into a play – so gripping is its ambivalence. The world it depicts is brutal, brainless, but at times heroic. The gang’s activities are sickening yet they are also a template for a new kind of social integration. | In 2010, Khan wrote his autobiography, Memoirs of An Asian Football Casual, a fascinating glimpse into a time when the far right was on the march and many politicians were doing their best to sow racial discord. What makes his memoir – which has just been turned into a play – so gripping is its ambivalence. The world it depicts is brutal, brainless, but at times heroic. The gang’s activities are sickening yet they are also a template for a new kind of social integration. |
| Now 52, Khan still dresses like a casual: designer trainers (Adidas New York, £90), designer tracksuit bottoms (Adidas Spezial, £120), designer top (CP Company, £140), designer hat (Aquascutum, £46) and designer watch (Breitling, £3,500). He has a long grey beard and could almost pass for Alexei Sayle. The oldest of five siblings, he was born to a Pakistani father and Afghan mother. Khan was a skinny, shy boy who did not like to stand out from the crowd; in school and on the streets, he would be called Paki or simply wog. Back then, racists didn’t concern themselves with the details. | Now 52, Khan still dresses like a casual: designer trainers (Adidas New York, £90), designer tracksuit bottoms (Adidas Spezial, £120), designer top (CP Company, £140), designer hat (Aquascutum, £46) and designer watch (Breitling, £3,500). He has a long grey beard and could almost pass for Alexei Sayle. The oldest of five siblings, he was born to a Pakistani father and Afghan mother. Khan was a skinny, shy boy who did not like to stand out from the crowd; in school and on the streets, he would be called Paki or simply wog. Back then, racists didn’t concern themselves with the details. |
| Enoch Powell’s “rivers of blood” speech was still reverberating, black footballers had bananas chucked at them, the National Front was on the rise and Margaret Thatcher had warned that Britain could be “swamped by people with a different culture”. Khan would avoid going into Leicester city centre in case he took a beating. “We went to a school full of white kids,” he says. “We didn’t integrate – we assimilated. We became more English. We were ashamed of our own culture. We thought we want to be like this lot: fish and chips, dress how they dressed up, do the things they do.” | Enoch Powell’s “rivers of blood” speech was still reverberating, black footballers had bananas chucked at them, the National Front was on the rise and Margaret Thatcher had warned that Britain could be “swamped by people with a different culture”. Khan would avoid going into Leicester city centre in case he took a beating. “We went to a school full of white kids,” he says. “We didn’t integrate – we assimilated. We became more English. We were ashamed of our own culture. We thought we want to be like this lot: fish and chips, dress how they dressed up, do the things they do.” |
| When Khan joined the Baby Squad at 17, he and his brother Yusuf found acceptance for the first time: black, brown and white kids ran together. They took pride in their multiculturalism but not from a political point of view. It was just an extension of their sense of style, another way of looking good. Other “firms” envied their cool. “Even skinheads who had been Paki-bashing and sieg-heiling became casuals and started to accept us,” says Khan. “The casuals brought down more racial barriers than any thinktank or government organisation.” | When Khan joined the Baby Squad at 17, he and his brother Yusuf found acceptance for the first time: black, brown and white kids ran together. They took pride in their multiculturalism but not from a political point of view. It was just an extension of their sense of style, another way of looking good. Other “firms” envied their cool. “Even skinheads who had been Paki-bashing and sieg-heiling became casuals and started to accept us,” says Khan. “The casuals brought down more racial barriers than any thinktank or government organisation.” |
| The funny thing is Khan wasn’t really interested in football, certainly not the kind played by Leicester City at the time. Yes, they had Gary Lineker but there wasn’t much else to boast about. “Leicester City were like, flipping heck, they were terrible,” he says. “I was always looking for the away fans. That’s what our focus was – looking for the other firm, seeing what they were wearing.” | The funny thing is Khan wasn’t really interested in football, certainly not the kind played by Leicester City at the time. Yes, they had Gary Lineker but there wasn’t much else to boast about. “Leicester City were like, flipping heck, they were terrible,” he says. “I was always looking for the away fans. That’s what our focus was – looking for the other firm, seeing what they were wearing.” |
| There was more to being a member of the Baby Squad than outdressing the opposition. The whole point was to beat them up, with fists, feet and knives. Khan insists there was a code of honour among the serious football hooligans: they only fought among themselves. “You wouldn’t go round picking on normal fans because that’s idiotic. It was just a casuals thing.” | There was more to being a member of the Baby Squad than outdressing the opposition. The whole point was to beat them up, with fists, feet and knives. Khan insists there was a code of honour among the serious football hooligans: they only fought among themselves. “You wouldn’t go round picking on normal fans because that’s idiotic. It was just a casuals thing.” |
| People take cocaine, jump out of planes, get in a cage and fight – but there is no feeling like what we went through | People take cocaine, jump out of planes, get in a cage and fight – but there is no feeling like what we went through |
| Being a member of the Baby Squad changed him. “You became more confident. You thought you were Jack the lad. You could get away with anything because you had a big gang of lads behind you. But I wasn’t a bully. I got bullied at school so I didn’t like bullies.” | Being a member of the Baby Squad changed him. “You became more confident. You thought you were Jack the lad. You could get away with anything because you had a big gang of lads behind you. But I wasn’t a bully. I got bullied at school so I didn’t like bullies.” |
| Khan distinguishes between the knives that are used as weapons today and the Stanley knives they carried. They did not intend to kill people, he says, just cut them. But it’s a dubious distinction. He and his gang were out to hurt people. In the mid-80s, he was jailed for eight months after stabbing a man in his head, face, chest and arm. | Khan distinguishes between the knives that are used as weapons today and the Stanley knives they carried. They did not intend to kill people, he says, just cut them. But it’s a dubious distinction. He and his gang were out to hurt people. In the mid-80s, he was jailed for eight months after stabbing a man in his head, face, chest and arm. |
| Khan has a gentle face and a lovely warm smile. I tell him that I’m wondering how somebody who looks so kindly could do such monstrous things. “I know,” he says quietly. “As a young man, you have so much testosterone, so many hormone changes. You go crazy and then, as you get older, you wisen up and think, ‘What the hell did I do?’” | Khan has a gentle face and a lovely warm smile. I tell him that I’m wondering how somebody who looks so kindly could do such monstrous things. “I know,” he says quietly. “As a young man, you have so much testosterone, so many hormone changes. You go crazy and then, as you get older, you wisen up and think, ‘What the hell did I do?’” |
| After jail, he went straight back into football hooliganism. He couldn’t help himself – it was so exciting. “The adrenalin was pumping all the time. Because you just didn’t know what was going to happen. It was scary and exciting and fun. People take cocaine, jump out of planes, get in a cage and fight. But there is no feeling like what we we went through. Unless you’ve been through it, you can’t really describe it.” | After jail, he went straight back into football hooliganism. He couldn’t help himself – it was so exciting. “The adrenalin was pumping all the time. Because you just didn’t know what was going to happen. It was scary and exciting and fun. People take cocaine, jump out of planes, get in a cage and fight. But there is no feeling like what we we went through. Unless you’ve been through it, you can’t really describe it.” |
| A complex series of events led to Khan walking away from hooliganism, initiated by the emergence of acid house and the rise of ecstasy. “I became a raver instead,” he says. “Make love not war.” The drugs led to a period of depression, and eventually he embraced Islam and discovered a new sense of purpose. “My religion taught me that violence is not the way. You have to respect people for who they are. If they’re good people, they’re good people. If you’re a twat, you’re a twat.” He whispers the expletives. “You know what I mean?” | A complex series of events led to Khan walking away from hooliganism, initiated by the emergence of acid house and the rise of ecstasy. “I became a raver instead,” he says. “Make love not war.” The drugs led to a period of depression, and eventually he embraced Islam and discovered a new sense of purpose. “My religion taught me that violence is not the way. You have to respect people for who they are. If they’re good people, they’re good people. If you’re a twat, you’re a twat.” He whispers the expletives. “You know what I mean?” |
| 'I saw a glass hit a beautiful woman in the face – and her face just opened up. I said: This ain't us' | 'I saw a glass hit a beautiful woman in the face – and her face just opened up. I said: This ain't us' |
| One particularly grisly incident also helped turn him away from violence. “I went to Bournemouth in the late 80s. It was a bank holiday, nice warm day, long weekend. We were walking around, not fighting, and heard a massive scuffle in the pub. I could hear glasses shattering. So we went to have a look through these beautiful Georgian windows. And I saw this glass hit an elegant, beautiful woman in the face, and her face opened up. And I said to my mates, ‘This ain’t us.’ We just walked away. She was screaming.” | One particularly grisly incident also helped turn him away from violence. “I went to Bournemouth in the late 80s. It was a bank holiday, nice warm day, long weekend. We were walking around, not fighting, and heard a massive scuffle in the pub. I could hear glasses shattering. So we went to have a look through these beautiful Georgian windows. And I saw this glass hit an elegant, beautiful woman in the face, and her face opened up. And I said to my mates, ‘This ain’t us.’ We just walked away. She was screaming.” |
| Khan went on to do a degree in arts and humanities and a masters, and now teaches English as a second language. I ask why he wrote Memoirs of An Asian Casual. “I started writing when I saw the rise of the English Defence League in 2009. They were recruiting on the terraces. I saw the hatred and I thought, ‘I’ve been through all that. I can’t let that happen all over again.’ I wrote the book to educate the knuckle-draggers, to say, ‘I was like you but you can change.’” | Khan went on to do a degree in arts and humanities and a masters, and now teaches English as a second language. I ask why he wrote Memoirs of An Asian Casual. “I started writing when I saw the rise of the English Defence League in 2009. They were recruiting on the terraces. I saw the hatred and I thought, ‘I’ve been through all that. I can’t let that happen all over again.’ I wrote the book to educate the knuckle-draggers, to say, ‘I was like you but you can change.’” |
| The play has been skilfully adapted. In the book, Khan interviews numerous characters about the old days, but the play is a two-hander. The main characters are Riaz and Yusuf, but the actors playing them seamlessly morph into police officers, National Front members, rival gang members, prison officers and family members. | The play has been skilfully adapted. In the book, Khan interviews numerous characters about the old days, but the play is a two-hander. The main characters are Riaz and Yusuf, but the actors playing them seamlessly morph into police officers, National Front members, rival gang members, prison officers and family members. |
| For all that Khan condemns football violence today, you sense he still looks back with affection. Does he miss it? He thinks long and hard. “Yeah, I do miss it. But now I think to myself, ‘It’s mindless.’” What does he miss the most? “The camaraderie, dressing up on Saturday. It was like being on a catwalk. Smelling good, looking the best, having a laugh, and kicking off with other fans.” | For all that Khan condemns football violence today, you sense he still looks back with affection. Does he miss it? He thinks long and hard. “Yeah, I do miss it. But now I think to myself, ‘It’s mindless.’” What does he miss the most? “The camaraderie, dressing up on Saturday. It was like being on a catwalk. Smelling good, looking the best, having a laugh, and kicking off with other fans.” |
| Sitting with us is Nikolai Foster, artistic director of Leicester’s Curve theatre, which will give the play its premiere. Do they worry that Memoirs glamorises the life of a football hooligan? “No,” Foster answers instantly. “We are presenting it warts’n’all. We’re not judging it or glorifying it in any way, shape or form.” | Sitting with us is Nikolai Foster, artistic director of Leicester’s Curve theatre, which will give the play its premiere. Do they worry that Memoirs glamorises the life of a football hooligan? “No,” Foster answers instantly. “We are presenting it warts’n’all. We’re not judging it or glorifying it in any way, shape or form.” |
| Despite warnings, his son read his book at 14. 'It changed him. He started hanging around with his little gang' | Despite warnings, his son read his book at 14. 'It changed him. He started hanging around with his little gang' |
| But Khan is not so sure. He tells me he made his oldest son promise that he would not read the book till he was 18, but he still read it when he was 14. “It changed him. He wanted to be like his dad. He started hanging round with his little gang. And I thought, ‘Oh my God.’ I could see him being loud and lairy in the street. It was the last thing I wanted him to get into.” | But Khan is not so sure. He tells me he made his oldest son promise that he would not read the book till he was 18, but he still read it when he was 14. “It changed him. He wanted to be like his dad. He started hanging round with his little gang. And I thought, ‘Oh my God.’ I could see him being loud and lairy in the street. It was the last thing I wanted him to get into.” |
| As for Khan himself, not only has he turned his back on violence, he has even become a genuine football fan – a season ticket holder at Leicester City. And a couple of years ago he witnessed the most unlikely event in English football history when his team won the Premier League. “It was the best feeling in the world. I had tears in my eyes. Wow!” | As for Khan himself, not only has he turned his back on violence, he has even become a genuine football fan – a season ticket holder at Leicester City. And a couple of years ago he witnessed the most unlikely event in English football history when his team won the Premier League. “It was the best feeling in the world. I had tears in my eyes. Wow!” |
| Today he visits schools to talk to children about the dangers of gang culture. He tells them his story and shows the kids that it is possible to turn your life around. “I campaign against all hate. I relate my story to kids who are 17 or 18. I tell them what I went through and they sit there gobsmacked. They think, ‘How the hell did you go from that to this?’” He smiles. “So it gives them hope, yeah.” | Today he visits schools to talk to children about the dangers of gang culture. He tells them his story and shows the kids that it is possible to turn your life around. “I campaign against all hate. I relate my story to kids who are 17 or 18. I tell them what I went through and they sit there gobsmacked. They think, ‘How the hell did you go from that to this?’” He smiles. “So it gives them hope, yeah.” |
| Memoirs of An Asian Football Casual is at Curve theatre, Leicester, 26 September-6 October. The book is published by Old Dog Books. | Memoirs of An Asian Football Casual is at Curve theatre, Leicester, 26 September-6 October. The book is published by Old Dog Books. |
| Memoirs of An Asian Football Casual is at Curve theatre, Leicester, 26 September-6 October. The book is published by Old Dog Books. | Memoirs of An Asian Football Casual is at Curve theatre, Leicester, 26 September-6 October. The book is published by Old Dog Books. |
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