Narrative of a fan who was sexually assaulted in train after Spurs v Brentford while a dad and his sons laughed

This was from a fan:

Last month, I took the Overground to sit in my regular seat at what I consider the best football club in the country, located in North London. I sat alongside the middle-aged men I’ve come to know over the past three seasons, sharing a mutual love for the team I’ve supported since childhood. That afternoon, under the warm sun, we celebrated a well-deserved 3-1 victory over Brentford.

However, 30 minutes after the final whistle, I found myself in a TfL office at Seven Sisters, surrounded by police officers, sobbing uncontrollably.

There’s always a sense of nervousness getting on the packed Overground after a match, whether we win or lose. Trains arrive every 15 minutes, the station becomes congested, and I, being only five foot three, often find myself squeezed into a crowd of men. Most of them have just spent 90 minutes immersed in the intense, territorial world of football.

I usually have to breathe deeply and calm myself, but I had always managed to cope. Despite the tension, fans generally seem to have an underlying sense of empathy for those around them who may feel less comfortable or physically vulnerable.

That weekend, however, things took a darker turn. While boarding the train, an away fan elbowed me in the face. I initially dismissed it as part of the typical crush as everyone rushed to get on.

Yet, as the train set off, I realized I was being deliberately assaulted. The same fan began pushing into me in a way that was far from accidental. His movements were deliberate and invasive. At the same time, the man in front of me leered and licked his lips, as I found myself trapped in this horrific scenario.

To make matters worse, the assailant’s teenage sons laughed at their father’s behavior, making crude and degrading remarks about what he was doing. When I finally gathered the courage to tell him to stop, the situation escalated.

The things they said to me were vile, laced with cruelty and misogyny. They even started filming me as the assault continued, while someone else in the carriage shouted at me to “enjoy it.”

Once I arrived at Seven Sisters, I reported the incident to a young TfL staff member, who seemed clueless about what to do. Shaken, I waited for the crowd to disperse before spotting five police officers further down the station.

Between sobs, I explained what had happened, and the officers rushed to the Victoria Line train, hoping to catch the perpetrator. Unfortunately, he and his sons had already gotten on an earlier train.

After giving my statement, drenched in sweat and shaken to my core, I was comforted by the empathetic officers. My boyfriend eventually picked me up, and I made my way home, though my mind was far from at ease.

As the weekend wore on, my initial shock turned into a deep-seated rage. This wasn’t just about one man’s appalling actions—it was about the systemic inequality I face every time I go to a football match. Why, as a lifelong fan, should I have to endure such behavior?

I found myself questioning everything: Why were away fans allowed on the same platform? Why did the male TfL attendant just shrug, as if this kind of harassment is a normal part of attending a match? Why is it that by protecting football culture, we seem to ignore or even applaud misogynistic behavior towards women?

But most importantly, who is responsible for addressing these issues?

Is it the football clubs, who may wash their hands of any responsibility once fans leave the stadium?

Is it the away team, who sell tickets to aggressive fans? Is it TfL, who could mitigate such incidents by adding more trains or implementing women-only carriages like those in Japan or Brazil?

Or is it the British Transport Police, who need to invest more in campaigns against sexual harassment and disorder after matches?

In 2019, only 14% of men believed sexism was a significant issue at football games. Yet, a recent study by Kick It Out revealed that 52% of female fans have experienced sexist behavior during matches. With matchday disorder increasing by 36% since the pandemic, it feels like we are on the verge of a crisis—one fueled by harassment and assault, yet ignored by those in power.

As long as women are treated as secondary in the male-dominated world of football, these problems will persist. The lack of a unified approach from clubs, transport authorities, and the police only worsens the situation, as no one seems willing to take responsibility.

When approached by the media, TfL expressed shock at my experience and promised to assist the police with their investigation. The British Transport Police, meanwhile, acknowledged an increase in reports of sexual harassment and emphasized that their officers are on patrol 24/7. While I believe their intentions are genuine, it doesn’t change the fact that I now dread the journey to and from matches.

This is a call for action: football clubs, TfL, and the British Transport Police must do better. Invest in campaigns that address this kind of behavior. Implement policies that make football matches safe for women.

Stop viewing us as secondary in these spaces. The fact that two teenage boys found their father’s actions amusing shows just how crucial it is to change these behaviors before they’re passed on to the next generation.

And if any women attending Spurs v West Ham on October 19th want to travel together, feel free to reach out. We shouldn’t have to do this, but here we are.

These are the words of Eve De Haan, a Spurs season ticket holder.

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