Richard Nieuwenhuizen: Dutch football and the death of a linesman
A memorial to Richard Nieuwenhuizen in the clubhouse at SC Buitenboys. All photographs: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian
It is a bitterly cold evening in Almere, a sprawling city about
15 miles to the east of Amsterdam. A biting wind sweeps across the six
pitches at SC Buitenboys, where boys and girls from a couple of junior
teams, training under the floodlights, tear around with a ball at their
feet, seemingly oblivious to the freezing conditions.
For a club
run solely by volunteers and which started 27 years ago with a small
wooden hut, it is an impressive setup. Almere, where the first house was
built in 1976, is one of the fastest-growing cities in
Europe,
which helps to explain why Buitenboys has become so popular. These days
they have 1,175 children and 225 adults playing across 110 teams.
Annual membership costs between €200 and €255 and the only person on the
payroll is the cleaner. Everyone else, including all four board
members, works for free.
Richard Nieuwenhuizen was among those
parents who liked to help out at the club. A popular, football-mad
father of three, Nieuwenhuizen lived in Almere with his wife, Xandra,
and their two youngest sons, Mykel, 15, and Alain, who recently turned
18. Jamie, the eldest son and a former coach at Buitenboys, lived nearby
with his girlfriend.
Mykel played for one of Buitenboys' eight
under-17 teams and his father enjoyed running the line in those matches,
which was what he left home to do on 2 December for a fixture against
Nieuw-Sloten, a club from Amsterdam. It was a normal Sunday morning;
father and son heading off to football together. By the end of the day
Nieuwenhuizen was fighting for his life. The 41-year-old collapsed three
hours after he was brutally attacked by a group of Nieuw-Sloten
players. The following evening he died.
Alongside 4,000 red roses
next to the pitch where Nieuwenhuizen fell to the floor sits a banner
with a tribute written by Richard's second son, Alain. It reads: "Dear
Daddy, senseless it was, for sure. It will never be better. Once the
wounds will heal. But we will never forget you. We will miss you."
"When
the one minute's silence was done in the professional stadiums [the
weekend after the incident], they showed that banner," Rob Mueller,
Buitenboys' secretary, says. "Alain made it and we printed it so that
they could take it with them on the silent march in Almere."
Mueller
walks across to another artificial pitch, about 200 yards away, to show
where Nieuwenhuizen was attacked at the end of the game between
Buitenboys B3 and Nieuw-Sloten B1 (the B denotes it was an under-17 game
and the number reflects the ranking of the team within that age group).
The game finished 2-2, with Nieuw-Sloten coming back from two goals
down. Those that were present recall a couple of incidents when
Nieuw-Sloten players bickered among themselves during the game but say
nothing happened to suggest there could be a flashpoint with
Nieuwenhuizen after the final whistle.
Yet moments after the
players started shaking hands with the three volunteer officials,
Nieuwenhuizen was knocked to the floor, then punched and kicked in the
head by several of the Nieuw-Sloten team. Parents immediately ran on to
the pitch to try to defuse the situation and get some control.
Nieuwenhuizen eventually got back to his feet but he was knocked to the
floor for a second time. Witnesses report that one of the Nieuw-Sloten
players then took off his shirt, presumably to make it harder for him to
be identified, before kicking Nieuwenhuizen while he was on the ground
and then running off. Mykel, Nieuwenhuizen's son, saw everything.
Although
clearly badly shaken, Nieuwenhuizen was able to stand up. He said he
did not wish to involve the police. He decided to go home and returned
to Buitenboys later in the afternoon to watch another under-17 game,
which kicked off at 2.45pm. Mueller, who was standing on the opposite
side of the pitch, watching one of his two sons play, recalls looking
across at about 3pm and seeing Nieuwenhuizen get out of the dugout where
he had been sitting, stand up and then fall to the floor.
"We
immediately called for an ambulance and they drove on the pitch and took
him to the hospital in Almere," Mueller says. "I later went to see
Richard. I said: 'Hi Rich, how are you doing?' He said: 'Hi Rob.' And he
was very emotional. But at that stage, which was around 7pm, he still
recognised me. I saw him once again at around 10pm, when he was still
recognising me but he was getting worse. It became really bad so he had
to be brought to another hospital, with a neurosurgeon specialist.
"In
the meantime, we were called by the police to say that Mykel had to
make a statement because he was a witness of the incident. So we took
him to the police station to make his statement, but we said if we got
one call from the hospital we would drive back. At 1am, we got the
message from Richard's wife, Xandra, who said: 'It's not going OK, bring
Mykel here.' So the police took him with sirens and lights on, I drove
behind.
"We stayed there in the waiting room and at around 4am we
came to see him once again. He was still in a kind of coma, didn't
recognise anything any more, and that was the last time I saw him alive,
knowing already that he would die within six, 12 or 18 hours, because
they explained clearly what happened – the brain was deprived of oxygen.
"I
went home at about 5am and tried to sleep for a couple of hours. By
9am, I had 71 unanswered phone calls and then the rollercoaster
nightmare started. Press came here, television and radio, so we had a
small discussion with the board, the president did the television and I
did the radio, both knowing that Richard would die but we couldn't say
it. At 5.30pm, we got the call to say that he had died. Then it was not
only news in Holland, it was news all over the world. So a healthy guy,
41 years old, was kicked to death in a few seconds."