"What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it. It’s not the television contracts, get-out clauses, marketing departments or executive boxes. It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city. It’s a small boy clambering up stadium steps for the very first time, gripping his father’s hand, gawping at that hallowed stretch of turf beneath him and, without being able to do a thing about it, falling in love.”
Like many before him, and those to come after him, Martin Hennebery was that small boy in 1961 - as so eloquently and famously illustrated by Bobby Robson - stepping foot inside Ashton Gate for the first time, beginning a love affair that was to span seven decades.
For any Bristol City fan who has regularly walked down Ashton Road or taken a train from Temple Meads to the various EFL outposts around England and Wales, many would have invariably seen or met 'Tinners'; newspaper crammed into his back-pocket and either regaling stories with fans or briskly walking to the ground.
A dedicated follower of the Robins, after moving to London to study at UCL in the late 60s, he was part of the London Supporters Club, later serving as chairman, attending every game home and away for more than 50 years.
Not that he wore it as a badge of honour, as friends speak of him as a deeply modest man, but also someone who was a "social glue", introducing and invigorating fans young and old, regular or new to the great cause of supporting City. He just loved meeting people. And there was no greater forum for that than football.
The father of three and grandfather of eight was a bustling left-back in his playing days, working as a solicitor in London before retirement. A lover of good food, good beer and good company, he was a polymath who touched many lives simply by a few moments stood in their company.
His death earlier this month at the age of 71 after illness came as a shock to the fanbase - to those who knew him well, and to those who merely knew of him, such was his ability to connect, and not just from within the Robins football family.
His legacy, at least from a Bristol City perspective, is probably best summed by a tweet posted by him to mark the 60th anniversary of when he first clasped eyes upon the inside of Ashton Gate.
"A cold day forgotten in the warmth and roar of a live crowd and, as City sweep into a two-goal lead, that special football bond for life is sealed. Dad's best gift to me and the door to many precious friendships. Thanks Dad x." Here are some of those precious friendships and how they remember 'Tinners'...
'Without a doubt, Mr Bristol City'
Elliot Chmielinski, 31, from Surrey knew Martin since childhood as a close family friend, often accompanying him to away games and at Ashton Gate.
Martin or ‘Tinners’ as he was affectionately known was a great family friend and without a doubt Mr Bristol City. Tinners first met my dad through his involvement in the London branch of the Supporters Club. He was a well-known person within these circles and specifically The Association of Provincial Football Supporters' Clubs in London (APFSCIL).
As my brother and I began to watch City with our dad we would see Martin for a drink before the games and then began to travel with him. This is where the nickname ‘Tinners’ was born, a mix between the ‘tin’ in Martin but also as he loved a beer (or a can back in the day).
We spent many years travelling both home and away in Tinners’ company. Wherever you went, he was like a celebrity – nodding, fist pumping, thumbs-upping or stopping for a chat with the people he knew. He had a great interest in people, their back stories and making sure they had a great day out watching his beloved City.
We have countless fond memories of away trips, weekends away and thousands of stories from his encyclopaedia of City knowledge. From singing on the tables in the Hen and Chicken when we got promoted to a scrappy 1-0 win (his favourite type) in a freezing northern town. He had a knack of connecting people and some of the friendships I've formed to this day are down to him and the way he would include everyone.
Tinners cared for those around him, whether asking my mum about the cats (he loved animals) on a drive back after a Tuesday night game or just general checking-in to see how you were. I can recall several conversations of talking to people where they said ‘we met your mate Tinners last week’.
You couldn’t write about him without highlighting his loyalty and positivity. He always managed to find that hope, even when City were going through a dire period.
One of his favourite songs was Aretha Franklin, ‘I Say a Little Prayer’. He used to mutter the lyrics on days out and I once quizzed him on why, his answer simply sums up his love for City, “It's my song which I associate City with, brother. It’s the lyrics, ‘you’ll stay in my heart and I will love you, (Forever) forever (and ever) ever. We never will part, oh, how I love you. Always believe in your soul’”
Thanks for being part of our lives, mate. The Chimo’s (Elliot, Seb, Peter and Louise).
'He was one in a million'
Brian Murphy-O’Neill, 53, from Cali, Colombia first met Martin in 2013 at Milton Keynes railway station, having travelled up from London to a game against MK Dons.
It’s obvious, from that first time I met Martin, that he was a knowledgeable guy and really likeable. Intense but in a way that was very articulate. I knew he was someone special. I wish I had met him sooner because over the years, we’d travel home and away, and he was one in a million. He was the real deal. A very bright, articulate guy and full of conversation. It was a friendship that was meant to be and I realise how lucky I was to have it.
We’d sit for hours on trains and in pubs and talk for hours, often not about football. We’d sit there, he’d always have a copy of The Independent, and he’d always reference something he’d read in the week, whether it be politics, religion, whatever, and there would always be something we’d natter about and that would go on for hours.
I didn’t know much about Martin, Martin didn’t know much about me. We didn’t go into life history about wives, and kids and whatever. We’re old enough to realise that’s nice stuff but there are other things to talk about. We focused on the things that we both related to and that is the thing I’ll miss, having that transparent conversation - not talking about family and work.
Football brought us together and there’s a part of me that will be missing whenever I go to City games, home or away. Martin always brought something special to the day, and it wasn’t even about the football.
Martin was never one for the norm, he’d never follow the crowd, and that was the beauty of our relationship. We’d always go out of our way to find somewhere off the beaten track that always would have really good beer, whiskey or food, or ideally all three. The excitement was finding new pubs and new people. We both liked the same thing, and that was to meet people and listen to their stories.
Walking to Middlesbrough once, there was a guy with his son, who can’t have been more than 12, going to a game and Martin turned to him and said, ‘enjoy these moments’. The kid couldn’t understand but the dad could see it, he knew what he meant. He always had the right thing to say and people valued him for it, they always listened.
Football won’t be the same but I know Martin will be looking down saying, ‘shut up. Just get yourself down The Orchard, have a couple of pints of rough cider, cheese and onion roll and get yourself down the Gate’.
It was very rarely I’d go to a game without Martin or at least bump into him. If I was flying in from Colombia or Europe, going to Middlesbrough, Darlington, Preston or wherever, we’d always meet up. It won’t be the same but his spirit will live on. RIP my friend, you’ll be sadly missed by so many but never forgotten.
'A fantastic ambassador for City'
Mike Johnson, 56, from Brighton first met Martin around 30 years ago, travelling from Sussex to home and away games, often ending up on the same transport.
Martin was not only a friend for me but when my children came along, he also took an interest in them; even though they were born in Brighton they had no choice but to be City fans and they got to know him. He was just very, very good at engaging at their level as well as my level.
There were three generations of my family: my mum, me and my two boys and we’d taken my mum up to Yorkshire, and we had Barnsley away, so we all went and met Martin at Oakwell and he was just able to talk three all three generations on a completely appropriate level; an old lady in her 70s, me and an eight-year old and 10-year old about what they were finding interesting.
Following Bristol City, sometimes the most disappointing part of the day is what happens between 3-5 o’clock. For Martin, it was all about the travel to the game, the architecture of the city we were visiting, the pubs, the people, alongside going to support the team he had done for 60 years.
The more we travelled, it wasn’t about the huge number of City fans that got to know him, he’d be equally happy to talk to away fans, and he was as interested in them, and what mattered to them as supporters, as he was about what was going on the pitch for their respective teams. Football was about more than just what happened on the pitch, for Martin. It was the whole culture and the highs and lows of that.
He was such a fantastic ambassador for Bristol City but really modest. He’d talk and the hours would whizz by; you’d be travelling back from Middlesbrough and you’d be in London and think, ‘where did the time go?’
Once after a game at Hull, we’d stocked up with some food for the journey back, and he’d bought some fish and chips but spent so long talking to people, engaging in conversation, it took him until we reached Kings Cross to finish it.
His knowledge of Bristol City is just incredible; he would talk about line-ups and scores from the 1960s as if it was three weeks ago; his depth of knowledge was remarkable.
I’m the manager of a music charity in Brighton, running music opportunities for young people, and we always have a gig on the beach with a big band every summer and Martin, for many years, came down to support that event.
It’s been a privilege to have got to know Martin. It’s rare you get the opportunity to spend a significant amount of time with somebody who is interesting but, also, so interested in you. I’ve been very fortunate to count Martin as a close friend for so many years.
'He always had a keen ear and an open mind'
Ellie Clarke, 44, from London first met Martin 25 years ago and has regularly travelled to away games and Ashton Gate with him.
Regardless of the quality of football, the quality of the day out was top when travelling with him. It began with him keeping our minds focused on the history of the places we would travel through and their available CAMRA pubs, or the gradient of that section of track, and away from our Friday night hangovers.
His specialist subject was more or less everything. Except perhaps…music. Although he did talk about the operas he attended, and when he found Spotify on his phone he often played us his two favourite tracks - Rod Stewart’s ‘Maggie May’ and Aretha Franklin’s ‘Say a Little Prayer’.
During my time knowing him, he moved from carrying a photocopy of the relevant section of the good beer guide, a print out of the train times, a rolled up newspaper in his back pocket, and wearing a City shirt, to carrying a mobile phone and wearing designer clothing; the ubiquitous newspaper stayed.
He didn’t do things by halves and threw himself into getting fit. He started to go down the gym every week, and played squash with us off-season. He also developed an interest in on-trend or healthy foods, explaining what ingredient he’d added to his match-day porridge each week.
One week I told him I couldn’t find Yerba maté - which I had discovered on my travels to South America - so he bought me a packet and told me to ask him when I needed more. He always passed me the travel section of his customary back-pocket newspaper. He loved relating tales from his trip to California where he went for a wedding of a woman with the same name as myself.
Another travel tale was to Russia and included a Swiss man he met there - obviously he now knew the finer detail between a German and a Swiss German accent. He mused about travelling again, his top choices being North Korea or Patagonia in Argentina - about which he told me of the Welsh-speaking community that emigrated in the 19th century, (one of the very few of his facts that I already knew) more specifically the southernmost tip - Tierra del Fuego.
Martin always took a personal interest in everyone. With me, he laughed at me for my lack of direction, teased me about ID checks in pubs, protected me from any unwanted attention, celebrated my professional successes and supported me during difficulties. He also showed interest in my family, especially my vicar father’s shared interest in trains. They were at university in London around the same time. More recently, my father took him on an after-hours tour of Westminster Abbey which delighted his interest in history and religion.
Martin will be missed by many. He always approached people with a keen ear and open mind. I feel honoured to have known him.
On the journeys back we often didn’t see much of Martin as he would find some Biggleswade United or suchlike fan and chat in another carriage, but there will be a big gap on our early morning table seat from London to wherever each Saturday morning next season.
'He was a glass half-full guy'
Jon Russ, 54, from Caldicot met Martin when he joined the London branch of the City Supporters Club in 1988 after moving to the capital to study.
It wasn’t until I moved back to Bristol that him and I had more contact because I started taking my three sons to Ashton Gate, and all of them have been season ticket holders since the age of five. And Martin has to gotten to know them. For the last 15 years, we would see Martin every game, without fail; either at The Orchard or in the South Stand and we’d always say hello and pass the time of day.
What was interesting was he’d never necessarily seek my opinion, he’d always want to know what the boys had to think. Even when they were quite young, he’d always value their opinion and draw them into conversation as adults, as if they were part of the gang. And I’d always appreciate that.
His breadth of knowledge in regards to football was so deep, wide and all encompassing, he did his own due diligence into players whereby the club should have hired him as a consultant!
He was just one of these involving people. He always wanted to know what people thought about City. He was a positive person in his views, a glass half-full guy. And sometimes, especially the youngsters, we have a tendency to be half-empty and perhaps he wanted to reassure them or get them to continue to come, which they invariably would anyway, they love City. But I also think he wanted to engage with the next generation. I’m speaking for him a bit here, and don’t want to get into his head, but he was just always a lovely guy, a social glue.
He’d start in the Avon Packet and then go to The Orchard, and more often than not when he was there he’d speak to nearly everyone who was in there. He just knew everyone.
The world is a worse place without him. My initial response is I want to go to The Orchard and raise a pint to Martin, that’s how I want to mark that first home game of the season. It will be absolutely heaving in there, and so it should be.
'Few knew more about City'
Tony Dudman, 64, from Filton, first met Martin in 1976 after moving to London the previous year for work and became heavily involved in the London branch of the Supporters Club.
I was living in London and I had gone to a few games on my own. We played at Tottenham and won 1-0 but there was trouble at that game, we were forced onto the pitch by their fans, people were up in the stands and all sorts of things.
After that, I thought it’d be better to go with some other people to the games, so I contacted the London Supporters Club and, shortly afterwards, I met Martin for the first time and I think we struck up an instant rapport. Over the years he encouraged me to get much more involved with the London branch, first as social secretary and then chairman, a post that he had held. I captained the darts team and he captained the quiz team, he was certainly very good when it came to quizzes.
He’s one of those rare people, and you don’t come across many, who just five minutes into their company, they’d brighten up your day. He’d talk to anybody; an engaging and interesting person.
He was always so positive and that’s what you’ll find from people; he was passionate about City, certainly, but also very upbeat. He’d criticise the team, but within that he’d always find something positive to say and what he said would have an uplifting spirit about it.
For me personally, we’d spend a lot of our time, over a decent pint, talking about City in the 1960s. A lot of people talk about the 70s teams, the promotions side, Gerry Gow, Geoff Merrick etc but we’d talk about the 60s, because we’d both seen our first games then. Remembering that team, and the players from that era, certainly stood out. We shared the belief that the finest centre-half we’ve ever seen in a City shirt was Jack Connor and probably the most skillful player to wear a Robins shirt was Jantzen Derrick.
There are few people who know more about City than Martin. His memory was incredible. Martin could not only tell you the game, the scorer but he could name the team and everything else, it was all stored away. I’d remember snippets but Martin could supply all the detail and colour that I’d since forgotten.
When we went to away games in pubs or on trains, he’d always engage with the local supporters and suddenly we’d have this wonderful conversation, as football should be, with fans swapping stories from both sides. I remember going up to Sunderland on a Friday night and on that train, we had supporters from Sunderland, Newcastle, Celtic and Rangers, and Martin would instigate these conversations, back and forward, between them all, because he knew so much about football in general.
'He made everyone feel a part of an away day'
Rob Fernandes, from London, knew Martin from away days dating back 15 years but after moving to the capital 10 years ago, grew closer after travelling to watch City together, on the road and to Ashton Gate.
He just brought people together. I’m sure there’s been an away game where I’ve travelled on my own and he’s grabbed me in the ground and taken me for a drink.
I started doing every away game about six years ago and he was the only person you’d guarantee being at every one, so we’d always meet up at Euston or Kings Cross and get the train together. But the one that would stick out would be from Bristol because there wouldn’t be many travelling back to London so often he and I would be jogging back to Temple Meads to catch the 22:35 - him often ahead of me and he’s 20, 30 years older - and I spent so many hours with him on dark trains or on the night bus, wherever else, but you could spend three hours on any form of transport with him and it’d go by in minutes. He was just such a fascinating guy.
He was very generous with his time, very thoughtful man, lots of anecdotes and stories, and would link everyone together because he’s been travelling to watch City for so many years.
After the promotion season of 2014/15 when I missed the 6-0 win over Bradford, I made a vow never to miss an away game since, so I’ve travelled every week with him since then and he’s been a constant presence in my life. He made away trips such an interesting experience, making everyone feel part of it.
It’s not actually true he was always positive… trust me, he lost his temper about City - I can remember Charlton away when we lost 3-2 and Barnsley away when we drew 2-2, having been 2-0 up - although compared to the average fan he probably was. But even when he lost it, he’d always quickly pull himself back together and within 20 minutes he’d always find something else to talk about.
Everyone from the South East, I know, pretty much, is through Martin. You can call him the Friends Reunited of Bristol City. On any away trip, he would just connect people. A bundle of energy who just got everyone linked together. He was a quiet, mild-mannered person but who had affection for everyone.
We’ll continue his legacy by just getting people together.
'Ashton Gate won’t be the same'
James Bolam, 43, from Seville, first met Martin when he was living in Manchester and would see him at various games in the north west, before becoming closer when he moved back to Bristol in 2013.
Tinners was a working-class kid made good. Leaving Filton for university in London and never moving back. He became a solicitor and was retired by the time I met him. Many hours were spent in pubs around London and elsewhere discussing politics, music, fashion and history. He was excellent company – funny, opinionated, interesting and warm.
He was one of the few people I have met who had seen John Atyeo play. His City knowledge was encyclopaedic and his memories of games going right back to the 1960s were compelling. He was well dressed for a man of his age and was known to frequent Oi Polloi in Manchester when City would play nearby, making sure he came out with a smart jacket that was suitable to be seen on the terraces.
I last saw him at the Fulham game just before the pandemic. I was moving to Seville but expected to be back at Christmas that year but a combination of Brexit and Covid meant it wasn’t possible. When I did make it back in December last year he messaged me to ask if I was going to football. I explained my Mum was terminally ill and so had to spend as much time as possible with her. He sent some very warm and comforting words which showed how important his friends and family were to him.
It helped me through a difficult time and I’ll always be grateful. We agreed to meet up at Ashton Gate this summer and he was genuinely interested in what had been going on in my life in the last two years. He had a lot of time for so many.
The next time I set foot in Ashton Gate it won’t be the same. We won’t catch up on the concourse and I won’t see him on his usual post-match trail of The Rising Sun and El Rincon before he gets the train back to his beloved Wimbledon. When he passed, for me and so many others it felt like a part of City went with him. Rest in peace Tinners, you will be sorely missed, mate.
'That was Tinners, everywhere and anywhere'
Melissa Mitchell, 30 and husband Jordan, 28, from Norfolk have been away day companions and friends of Martin for the last nine years.
I first met Tinners at Millwall on New Year’s Day in 2013 through mutual friends, and since then became a staple in my away day experience. We were both part of the 97 that travelled to Hull after being relegated.
Tinners was someone who everyone knew, and had fond memories of. Knowledgeable about all aspects of life, and someone who was so kind to everyone he met. He would always ask how you were, and how your family was. He made a lasting impression of all of our family and friends at our wedding.
Tinners was always someone who looked out for me at away matches. Travelling from similar areas we’d tend to be on the same train, so we would use that time to catch up on all the goings on, how the family are etc. I remember a time we went to Tranmere away, and we were in Liverpool trying to catch the next Metro train, he was running ahead and told me to run, to which I replied 'I don't run!' which then became a running joke every time we saw each other. Funnily enough, a couple of weeks later I had made him late to Preston because of my refusal to do exactly that.
Tinners was the man, and I mean the man. He knew everyone, and knew everywhere. Whether it was an away day closer to home around London, or in far away patches up north, he knew people, he knew history, and he had seen City there, usually on the wrong end of a result. Summed up perfectly by a trip to my husband's team Ipswich in December 2016. He knew more locals than him, knew the pub before it was a new style bar, and could talk about their team of the 70s like a local. This was Tinners, everywhere and anywhere.
The last time we were all together (myself, my husband, my Dad and Tinners) was at Peterborough in October 2021, which was capped off perfectly by a late Chris Martin winner. I think if we knew it would be the last time, we would have enjoyed it and savoured it more. He will be missed by all City fans, and the matches won’t be the same without him.
'He’ll always have a seat at Ashton Gate'
Paul Binning, 44, from Pontyclun met Martin 10 years ago, first through having regular conversations on Twitter and then at games.
As a football fan you go to games and often see familiar faces, people you nod to with a passing acknowledgement. As an away fan, even more so as the smaller number of regulars enhances familiarity.
When you met Martin 'Tinners' it was more than that to so many Bristol City fans. He would shake hands with anyone he recognised, whatever age or sex and however well he knew them. He'd always ask how you were, and it was asked with genuine interest, not just by way of politeness with which many of us will say those words.
When you were standing having a pint (ideally a good quality cask ale) with him it was often hard to chat properly, due to the sheer numbers of people who would walk past and want to say hello or welcome him - fans young and old, whether the raucous singers or those who prefer to sit quietly at the front - all knew Martin and he welcomed each with grace, humility and genuine warmth.
His knowledge of City was encyclopaedic and quite astonishing, second only to his commitment to watching every game, travelling from his Wimbledon home. He could recall games from 50 years ago at the drop of a hat, not just with a vague haze of memory, but with accuracy, picking out scores, goalscorers, how the reverse fixture that season panned out and how the games fitted into the context of that individual season. And beyond that too, he had a knowledge of society, history, geography and much more like few others can recall.
He was always as positive as anyone about City, never one to wallow with the naysayers and understood the complexities and challenges of modern football, despite having been brought up in simpler times. Personally, I always felt like my opinion-based tweets were franked when they had a Tinners 'like' or comment on them. A stamp of real authority from someone I respected hugely.
He'll be missed by so many, but especially those who travelled on the trains and buses from London with him on so many occasions over many decades. They saw the true Tinners, they had the opportunity to really get to know him - or rather he had the chance to really get to know them, as was his way. A genuinely lovely, thoughtful, intelligent bloke.
RIP Tinners, keep watching, keep supporting. There'll always be a seat for you at Ashton Gate.
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