For decades, English football has wrapped terrace abuse in a romanticised cloak of “atmosphere.”
The roar, the passion, the tribal edge—these are the elements we celebrate. But somewhere along the line, our beautiful game began tolerating something far darker: the routine use of vile, hateful language that goes well beyond banter and directly undermines the inclusivity football claims to champion.
Governing bodies need to enforce meaningful, consistent consequences. Fines that amount to pocket change for top-flight clubs are not a deterrent. Empty slogans are not a deterrent. Points deductions, partial stadium closures, or mandatory behind-closed-doors matches send a message that cannot be ignored.
Forest Green boss Robbie Savage was targeted at Carlisle. Although the FA investigated, no punishment was given; instead, the club received a reminder of its responsibility for managing fan conduct. This simply isn’t good enough.
Savage suffered again during Forest Green’s 2-1 win over Southend, subjected to repulsive chants from a small section of fans—yet once more, no punishment is likely.
The problem isn’t that football has failed to recognise this issue—it’s that it hasn’t acted with anywhere near the urgency required. Governing bodies have issued statements, launched campaigns, and produced posters that fade into the stadium walls like decoration. Meanwhile, stewards are often left with impossible jobs, clubs hesitate to confront their own fanbases, and sanctions remain toothless.
We all know the soundtrack. Homophobic chants dismissed as “a bit of fun.” Racist slurs written off as the behaviour of a “small minority.” Threatening language normalised because “it’s always been like this.” But football is no longer a world where such excuses can sit comfortably. The terraces are supposed to be places where families, kids, and supporters of every background can gather without fear of what might come from the row behind them. Too often, that simply isn’t the case.
If football genuinely wants to rid itself of abusive terrace culture, three things must change.
Clubs must take responsibility for education and enforcement. That means investing in supporter liaison, community outreach, and clear codes of conduct—and applying them without fear or favour. It should be impossible for repeat offenders to slip through the cracks simply because policing them feels inconvenient.
We need to shift the culture on the terraces. Real fans—the majority who go to support their teams, not to abuse others—must feel empowered to challenge the behaviour around them without putting themselves at risk. This won’t happen overnight, but norms change when governing bodies, clubs, and supporters move in the same direction.
Football markets itself as “the global game,” a space where everyone belongs. But belonging requires safety, respect, and accountability—not just on the pitch, but in the stands. The emotion and passion of football are worth protecting. The vile language that has infected too many matchdays is not.
The terraces don’t need sanitising. They need humanising. And that starts with governing bodies finally treating this issue not as an inconvenience, but as a priority.
