They say you should never meet your heroes, but for one Liverpool supporter, a second meeting with Kenny Dalglish became a profound moment of catharsis, 36 years after the football legend first helped bring him back to life.
A Childhood Hero and an Unthinkable Tragedy
Sean Luckett grew up in a Warwickshire village, geographically distant from Anfield but spiritually tethered to Liverpool Football Club. His devotion saw him attend his first match in 1974, witness FA Cup final heartbreak in 1977, and celebrate the first of Liverpool's six European Cups in Rome. His childhood hero was Kevin Keegan, but when Keegan left, a new king was crowned in his imagination: the wily, tough, and supremely skilful Scot, Kenny Dalglish.
This lifelong fandom led him to Hillsborough on 15 April 1989 for the FA Cup semi-final against Nottingham Forest. The day descended into tragedy, becoming the lowest possible point for the club and its supporters. Sean's memories of the disaster are fragmented and haunting.
"I remember my dad saying: 'If it’s a nice day tomorrow, we’ll go.' I remember Ian St John on the end of my hospital bed. My best mate laughing as I struggled to eat a yoghurt. The endless bright white lights of the Royal Hallamshire hospital," he recalls. But one pivotal moment remains absent from his memory.
The 'Miracle' Awakening and a Lifelong Burden
While Sean lay in a coma two days after the crush, Kenny Dalglish, then Liverpool manager, visited the injured fans in hospital. As recorded by Donald McRae in the Guardian, Dalglish spoke to the unconscious young man: "Hi there, wee man. Come on, you’ll be all right. We love your support."
As Dalglish and his party walked away, a scream echoed. Sean had sat up in bed. He had been woken by the sound of his hero's voice, an event Dalglish himself described as "unbelievable."
Life after Hillsborough was a relentless struggle. Sean suffered an anoxic brain injury, PTSD, survivor's guilt, and deep depression. He was, in his mother's words, "out of it for months" and unable to work meaningfully for years. Yet, through the trauma, he felt sustained by the compassion of the man he idolised, the man whose voice had literally called him back.
The Circle Closes: An Emotional Reunion in Liverpool
Thirty-six years later, the premiere of Asif Kapadia's documentary, Kenny Dalglish, provided a chance for a conscious meeting. After a mate connected with Dalglish's son Paul at the London premiere, Sean received an invitation to the Liverpool screening.
In a whirlwind, he drove to the city. At the cinema, surrounded by legends like Alan Hansen and Steve McMahon, the producer arranged the moment. Without warning, Sean was spun around to come face-to-face with Kenny Dalglish himself.
"A firm handshake, that smile," Sean remembers. He passed on a hug from his mother, which Dalglish warmly accepted. As he was pulled into an embrace, Dalglish joked, "Don’t fall asleep." Later, as he left, Dalglish made a final beeline, grabbed Sean's hand and said, "Great to fucking see you by the way."
"Finally to be able to hug him, to thank him, to have him take the piss out of me, it was catharsis and joy," Sean says. "The intervening years melted away. I was again that overexcited nine-year-old." He saw again the dignity, normalness, and self-deprecation of the man who carried the burden for a city.
Sean Luckett wishes he had never had to meet Kenny Dalglish under such tragic circumstances. The pain continues, exacerbated by recent findings from the Independent Office for Police Conduct in early December, which cited "fundamental failures" on the day and "concerted efforts" to blame fans, with no consequences for those involved.
"We never accept Hillsborough. We all just live alongside it. And that will never change," he states. But for one survivor, a circle has now been closed. He got to hug his greatest ally, thank him, and challenge the old adage. They say never meet your heroes. For Sean Luckett, and for Liverpool fans everywhere, Kenny Dalglish proves that sentiment utterly wrong.
