For Sean Luckett, the legendary figure of Kenny Dalglish has been a constant, compassionate presence in his life for 36 years, despite having no memory of their first, life-altering meeting. Now, he has finally been able to look his hero in the eye and say thank you.
A Childhood Hero and an Unthinkable Tragedy
Growing up in a Warwickshire village, Sean Luckett's heart belonged to Liverpool Football Club. His devotion spanned from his first Anfield match in 1974 to witnessing the club's first European Cup triumph in Rome. When Kevin Keegan departed, a new king was crowned in his imagination: the wily, supremely skilled Scot, Kenny Dalglish.
This lifelong fandom culminated in a trip to Sheffield for the FA Cup semi-final on 15 April 1989. The day at Hillsborough Stadium descended into disaster, claiming 97 lives and leaving Sean among the critically injured.
His memories of the aftermath are fragmented: his father's voice, the bright lights of the Royal Hallamshire Hospital, a friend's laughter. But one pivotal moment remains a blank. Two days into a coma, Kenny Dalglish, then Liverpool manager, visited his bedside.
The 'Miracle' Awakening and a Lifelong Burden
As recently recounted in the Guardian by Donald McRae, Dalglish spoke to the unconscious fan: "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. The 'wee man' was sitting up. "Unbelievable," Dalglish recalled.
Sean was the 'miracle' boy woken by the sound of his hero's voice. Yet, survival was just the beginning. Life post-Hillsborough involved being "out of it for months," according to his mother, alongside a complex legacy of anoxic brain injury, PTSD, survivor's guilt, and deep anger at the enduring injustice.
Through years of trauma and intermittent therapy, one sustaining force was the knowledge of the compassion shown by the man he idolised, the man who helped bring him back.
Closing the Circle: A Conscious Reunion
Thirty-six years later, a new documentary, Kenny Dalglish by Asif Kapadia, provided a chance for a second meeting. After a whirlwind invitation to a Liverpool premiere, Sean found himself in a cinema bar surrounded by club legends like Alan Hansen and Steve McMahon.
Without warning, the producer spun him around, and there was Dalglish. A firm handshake and that famous smile greeted him. Sean passed on a hug from his mother, which Dalglish warmly accepted. As he was pulled into an embrace, Dalglish quipped: "Don't fall asleep."
Later, as the Dalglish family departed, Kenny made a final beeline for Sean, grabbed his hand and said: "Great to fucking see you by the way." The intervening decades melted away. Sean was once again the overexcited nine-year-old, but now able to offer the gratitude he had carried for a lifetime.
The profound effect of Hillsborough on Sean's life remains. The recent Independent Office for Police Conduct report, citing "fundamental failures" and "concerted efforts" to blame fans, delivered another slap in the face. No one involved will face consequences.
"We never accept Hillsborough," Sean reflects. "We all just live alongside it. And that will never change." Yet, in finally hugging and thanking Kenny Dalglish, he found a moment of catharsis and joy. He wishes the meeting had never been necessary, but is eternally grateful for the ally he found in his hero. They say you should never meet your heroes. For Sean Luckett, and for Liverpool, they are wrong.
