Sounds, smells, taste, touch, places and things can all evoke powerful, personal associations for us. These can be life-affirming, beautiful and positive, sometimes the opposite, sometimes good and bad. And the trigger for the memory might not be obvious.

Take bananas. They are nutritious and much loved in sport by such as tennis players at Wimbledon who nibble through the fruit between games. Slow-release energy and all that. A few hours out cycling and a banana is my go-to fuel. All of which carry connotations of health, activity, energy and the natural. But there is a darker side to this much-cherished fruit that gets shipped around the world.

Norwich City v Nottingham Forest, Carrow Road, 25th February, 1978. It’s a bright and chilly Saturday and we’re walking the quaint, cobbled streets of the city’s old quarter towards the football ground for this First Division match. I’m a student in Norwich, my girlfriend’s travelled halfway across England to stay with me and I’ve got money in my pocket as a birthday gift from my dad. The world feels good. Even the fact that I can only get tickets for us to stand with the home supporters doesn’t tarnish prospects for the day. Forest are riding high – top of the league – and are unchanged for the ninth successive game (I read somewhere).

Shilton, McGovern, Burns, Robertson etc are household names well beyond Nottingham by now and more players will soon polish their reputations to catch the attention of a wider and admiring public when the Reds finish the season as champions. Come November 1978, Viv Anderson will become the first black footballer to be capped by England.

But this scene is months before and Anderson is out on the pitch with his team-mates. Carrow Road is draped in canary yellow and I’m trying to tell my girlfriend how he was so good as a lad that we played in the same school team despite him being two years younger than me. And of how I’d see him, on occasion, catch the bus from Clifton to the City Ground for training, of how pleased I was that he’d made it as a pro and how I’d forgiven him for taking my school record for the high jump! All of this said with pride, that ‘one of us’ had made it big time in football.

Then something happened that shut me up. As the players took their positions for kick-off, I saw stuff being chucked from the stands nearest the flank where Anderson stood. The stuff turned out to be mostly bananas. A few monkey noises caught my ear but it was the sight of a box-load of bananas being lobbed around him that had me petrified. Not frightened but incredulous. The referee made no attempt to have the pitch cleared but Anderson did. Without looking into the banks of supporters, he set about kicking the fruit to the side. If it’s possible to do that with dignity, he did.

Half an hour later, we are suppressing emotions of sheer joy as Forest accelerate into a 3-0 lead. Pockets of travelling fans in fine song, revel in the dominance of the Reds and taunt their hosts as only football fans can. How I wished we were with them. Still, in the intimate code of squeezed-together hands, we enjoy the spectacle before us in quiet satisfaction.

Come the end of the match, though, and Forest are hanging on for a 3-3 draw. Carrow Road is throbbing to Norwich fans baying for a late winner as we stand silent, hoping for the final whistle. When it comes, home fans are delirious and Forest fans shell-shocked at letting their lead slip. As the players leave the pitch and the stands begin to empty, I see that most of the bananas have been left where they were kicked by Anderson. It wasn’t the first time he’d been targeted in that way but it was the first time I’d seen it for real and it’s stayed with me.

I was reminded of it (a mere 44 years later) yet again recently when Brazil’s Richarlison recounted his shock at being a target of racism, playing for his country in Paris. A banana was hurled his way as he celebrated a goal. He might not have endeared himself to Forest fans back in August with his keepy-uppy antics, showboating his skills for Spurs at the City Ground, but that’s beside the point. He was rightly dismayed in the post-match interview in France, as I was shaken by what I witnessed at Carrow Road that day.

In football – more than in some other sports – much has been done to promote anti-racist awareness, from ‘taking the knee’ to ‘Show Racism the Red Card’. Individuals like Raheem Sterling and Marcus Rashford are strong, articulate and admirable voices against racism. We’re not done yet, though. Britain might have consigned to history the crude gesture of slinging fruit from the terraces but odious attitudes have found new platforms online. Social media is the new challenge as players continue to report racist attacks. ‘Kick It Out’ chairman Tony Burnett, reporting last week to a select committee of MPs, said that discrimination (of all kinds) is on the rise.

That is troubling. Individual players need the active support of clubs and footballing authorities to stem that tide of poison. External agencies – like the government, police-force and internet companies – need to play their part too. And supporters, all of us who love football, must maintain our resolve to ensure ‘the beautiful game’ is just that, on and off the pitch.

*Article provided by Stephen Parker (Nottingham Forest Correspondent).

*Main image @NFFC Viv Anderson a target for abuse made history as England’s first black player.