The David Sullivan Tragedy

 

It is a deeply uncomfortable truth about football that we often wait for a moral catastrophe to deliver the boardroom clear-out we wanted for purely sporting reasons.

For years, the collective prayer across the East End was simply for a bit of competence. We wanted someone who understood a modern transfer window, or perhaps someone who didn't treat a historic football institution as a personal plaything. I wanted David Sullivan out because he was a poor custodian of our club. I wanted him to leave after a sudden, miraculous flash of self-awareness: a realization that he was out of his depth.

Instead, we got this.

The fallout from the Panorama documentary has been deafening, and the newly established independent football regulator is already knocking at the door. Around me, many are jubilant. They are delighted to see him publicly disgraced, and some want blood.

But there is no triumph here.

If these historical allegations of sexual misconduct are proven true, the dominant emotion should not be celebration. It should be grief. Every headline represents a victim. A young girl whose life was irrevocably scarred by a man who, seemingly, believed that wealth, influence, and a media empire placed him beyond the standards of basic human decency.

Justice must take its course, and if he is guilty, he must face the consequences. But we should not mistake a tragedy for a sporting victory. Whatever happens next, whether in the courts or in the papers, the focus belongs entirely to the victims.