Congratulations to our three winners Isabelle Martin, Jake Pearce and Billy Taylor.
By Jim White, FWA National Executive Committee and Telegraph sports writer
We are delighted to announce the winners of this year’s FWA Student Footballer Writer of the Year awards, who are:
FWA Hugh McIlvvaney Student Football Writer of the Year: Jake Pearce, Southampton Solent University
FWA Vikki Orvice Student Football Writer of the Year, in conjunction with Women in Football: Isabelle Martin, University of Brighton
FWA/Kick It Out Unheard Voices Student Football Writer of the Year: Billy Taylor, University of Gloucestershire
Many congratulations to all three. It was some achievement to come out on top of a record number of entries, many of which suggested that the future of football writing in this country is bright indeed. The winners will receive their awards at the Footballer of the Year dinner on May 19th, alongside Bunny Shaw and Bruno Fernandes.
Here are their winning entries:
The Hugh McIlvanney award
Wiiner: Jake Pearce, Southampton Solent University
“Neil (Warnock) came into the game and then mentioned that his wife had a dream that I was going to score so I was going to start upfront. There was almost giggles in the dressing room, it was almost like a free hit for us all.”
“Then suddenly the hat-trick happened so quickly. It didn’t feel real. It was just funny, a surreal moment.”
For most football fans, 2nd February 2010 is just another date. For Danny Butterfield, it became the night he was thrown into the strangest of Neil Warnock’s experiments — and somehow produced the fastest hat-trick in Crystal Palace history.
A right back by trade, a dependable presence, a fan favourite: nothing about Butterfield suggested he should be leading the line in an FA Cup tie. Yet there he was, pushed up front because Warnock’s wife had dreamt he would score.
Warnock trusted the dream anyway. The first half was rough. “I remember the first half being terrible. I was terrible and I’m thinking I need to pull my finger out a little bit and start running around a bit.”
What followed was six minutes and 48 seconds of chaos — left foot, right foot, header — a perfect hat-trick that would follow him for the rest of his career.
But those six minutes tell only a fraction of who Danny Butterfield was.
He grew up “football mad”, but his path was anything but smooth. “I was all over. I was a bit of a gypsy in academy football.” Peterborough, Nottingham Forest, Leicester — and finally Grimsby, the club that took a chance on him.
“I went on trial as a centre forward… and there was an opportunity through injury to play right back in the first team.” His debut arrived suddenly. “I had to jump in the car with the first teamers… And they said that I am going to start tomorrow.”
He would go on to make 124 appearances for the Mariners, including a famous night at Anfield. “It was madness… we massively rode our luck, but then Phil Jevons came up with an unbelievable winner.” Butterfield still calls it “one of the biggest achievements” of his career.
A contract mishap allowed him to leave on a free, and Crystal Palace moved quickly. “It’s like your first day of school, because the first thing you know is you’ve been signed to take someone’s place.” But he found instant camaraderie with fellow new signings Andy Johnson, Shaun Derry and Dele Adebola. “We all became really good pals… it was unique that we all signed in a short space of time and remained friends.”
Palace became home. Across nearly a decade, he lived through promotions, relegation battles, and the club’s darkest chapter: administration in 2010.
Butterfield remembers the strain vividly. “Its hard because the club becomes split… The fans think the club is going out of business… the realism in it is you’re not getting paid.” Some teammates couldn’t afford petrol to get to training. Yet he never considered leaving. “It never crossed my mind to leave Palace, it made me do the opposite and want to stay and fight.”
When his contract expired, he dropped to League One to join Southampton — a move that proved far more ambitious than it looked. “I knew they had a good set of young players and I thought I could add experience to that.” The squad surged, and Butterfield became a guiding presence. Under Mauricio Pochettino, he began to see the game differently. “He knew that I was a big character… so he brought me even closer even though I wasn’t playing for him.”
Coaching soon became the natural next step. At Exeter, Paul Tisdale trusted him to lead sessions. “I was taking some of the young players for an afternoon session… I was probably wearing staff kit more than the playing kit.”
From there came roles at Southampton’s academy and MK Dons, with all the highs and lows of the profession. The lifestyle was demanding. “You find you are on your own quite a lot, and you miss your kids growing up a little bit too.”
Now taking a break after leaving Eastleigh, Butterfield is clear about what he wants next. “I’ve always wanted to go at it myself. I do want the accountability on my shoulder, I want to feel the pressure.”
Opportunities may be rare. But then again, the last time he was thrown into something he’d never done before, he scored a hat-trick.
Ask football fans about Danny Butterfield and they’ll mention those six minutes. Ask his teammates and managers, and they’ll tell you something else.
He was a true professional. A leader. Someone who kept a club alive during administration.
Someone who stepped up whenever and wherever he was needed — even if it meant playing striker because his manager’s wife had a dream.
The Vikki Orvice award, in conjunction with Women in Football
Winner: Isabelle Martin, University of Brighton
Brighton and Hove Albion pride themselves on being a club shaped by their supporters. From fan protests back in the 1990’s to promotion parties on trains involving players and fans in 2017, the Brighton story has always been one of unity. It is for this exact reason that the club’s decision to remove the heritage tiles at the Amex and replace them with a mosaic is nothing short of a disgrace.
Those tiles are not decorative extras; they are paid-for markers of loyalty and memory, embedded into the stadium by supporters who believed their place at the club was permanent.
In a football landscape where everything revolves around profit, Brighton seemed like one of the good ones. Now, though, Albion fans cannot be blamed for believing they are an afterthought.
The heritage tiles were introduced in 2011, as a way for supporters to permanently mark their place, and their loved ones’ places, in Brighton’s history. Fans purchased personalised tiles for £99, which were installed on the North Concourse ramp walls at the Amex.
In an announcement yesterday, the club revealed that it had launched the BHAFC 125 Fan Wall to celebrate the club’s 125th anniversary, which falls in June 2026. For £45, fans can upload their photos to feature in the mosaic wall that honours players who defined Brighton’s journey across generations.
Further down in that announcement, the club dropped the bombshell that the tiles would be removed at the end of the season. The 125 Fan Wall was described as “the natural successor” to the Heritage Tile Wall.
Fans were not consulted about the matter, which resulted in uproar. One supporter described the decision as “disregarding the sentimental and historical values”, on the North Stand Chat, a Brighton fan forum.
In an emotional sense, Brighton’s identity has been built on the idea of collective ownership. This is a club that survived extinction thanks to its supporters who refused to be silenced.
The heritage tiles represent individual supporters woven into the fabric of the club, a reminder that Brighton’s rise has been shared rather than imposed. Surely it is better to honour the fans who ‘defined Brighton’s journey across generations’.
Removing them alters the relationship between Brighton and its fans by replacing something personal with something no one really wants. Modernising a stadium should never come at the cost of heritage. Nothing contradicts the ‘TOGETHER’ motto more than taking down the plaques that honour those who helped Brighton get to where it is today. The fans who went through the heartbreak at Goldstone and travelled week after week to Gillingham deserve just as many plaudits, if not more, than the ones who stepped onto the pitch. Without the fans, the players wouldn’t have a team to play for.
Many mark the names of family members who have passed away, and fans treat them like gravestones that they visit prior to kick-off. The bigger issue is how it changes the relationship between the club and its fans. When looking modern comes before letting people express themselves, supporters start to feel like they’re just watching a brand, not part of it.
There is a reasonable argument in defence of Brighton’s decision. Stadiums require constant upkeep, visual identity matters, and clubs must evolve as they grow. A mosaic may offer a cleaner aesthetic, but why must it replace the heritage tiles? Why not have both?
The club claims that “after nearly 15 years of installation and production of the tiles, many of them are unfortunately falling foul of time and the weather conditions.” However, anyone who has visited the Amex recently can rebut that suggestion with just one look at the heritage wall. The original tiles remain in great condition, neatly lined up, side by side. It’s the newer ones that have “fallen foul” of the weather.
Plenty of clubs have found ways to update their surroundings while still respecting the supporter spaces that matter. When a club that prides itself on its relationship with fans makes a decision like this without involving them, it weakens that message.
The heritage tiles that line the North Concourse wall are a reminder that Brighton was built by its community long before it became a Premier League mainstay. The names, messages, and memories on that wall mean far more than a mosaic ever could.
One supporter, Tracey said: “It’s like digging up a churchyard full of weathered gravestones to replace them with a video installation… My late dad’s tile has his name and ‘Albion Forever’. Ironic that his loyalty isn’t reciprocated.”
Many other fans have announced they will be cancelling their season tickets if the plaques are removed. Maybe that’s what it will take for the board to remember who Brighton and Hove Albion belongs to.
Unheard Voices award, in association with Kick It Out
Winner: Billy Taylor, University of Gloucestershire
The loud noise inside the stadium, the tight deadlines after a last-minute winner meaning you have to change your entire article and the sense of pressure building around you can make anyone break.
I remember in my final year of sixth form, a teacher asked me if I could handle stress and pressure, and even my reply was “I really don’t know.”
But since I started university in 2024, game by game, assignment by assignment, I’ve put myself into a place I’ve never really felt before, and that’s comfort.
I have been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome since I was nine years old. It’s a condition that can give you challenges in the social sector and routine adherence, but it can give you cool things like intense interests.
I have a deep interest in a lot of things; I know facts that are very niche. I have interests in music, with my favourite artists being Oasis, Pulp and the Beatles. I know things about those bands that they probably don’t know about themselves. I also collect a lot of vinyl, owning probably over 50 albums. But even with that obsession of mine, it doesn’t come close to my love for football.
School was something I quite honestly hated. I had friends and great support around me, which I’ll never forget, but the sense of dread I’d feel walking in every day was something I felt for years and years. Some days, I would feel so low that I was afraid to even look at my computer at work or engage in any social activities.
My first game was with my dad in 2012; it was Rangers vs Dundee United. My dad’s a die-hard Gers fan; the Tangerines ran out 2-1 winners against a Rangers side that was relegated to the fourth division of Scottish football the next season.
I had to pick someone more local, so I went to my first Cheltenham Town game, a 0-0 draw against Newport County in 2013, and even though that game was your average boring long-ball clash, I fell in love with football.
I started going to watch Cheltenham more and more, most places with large crowds and loud noises I would have hated going to, but not Whaddon Road, I loved it every week. I begged my dad to take me time and time again going up and down the country from Rotherham to Exeter with just me, him and my brother loving every second of it.
It was around 2020, during lockdown, when I decided to try my hand at graphics and reporting on Cheltenham games. That season we’d just gone into lockdown and lost to Northampton in the playoffs, but I remembered having the urge to report it. I was bored with nothing to do, so I decided to try giving reporting a go in the ’20/’21 season with an Instagram account centred around Cheltenham Town.
The account not only boosted my confidence in my skills, but also provided me with a platform to enhance my personal and professional growth.
Then university came. As someone with anxiety, the thought of starting a new chapter was daunting to say the least; I had been educated at a school specifically designed to help neurodivergent people, with some of my classes even having at most three people.
The thought of living alone and starting a course with people I’d never met before was daunting, but I quickly realised I could do it. I’d been through many challenges in my life, and this was just one of them. I remember my first time in a press box at university was West Brom vs Blackburn; it felt surreal how far I came from someone who was scared to even walk into school some days to go into a 27,000-capacity stadium to work was a feeling of intensity but, at the same time, comfort.
I felt as if I were finally with one in myself, and I was in a place where my mind was finally happy with how it all worked out and it was going to be ok.
Since I’ve started university and my course, I’ve had challenges with bouts of anxiety before big games and media days, but I’ve always come out better for doing them, with every game or meeting getting easier.
To anyone with autism or who’s neurodivergent. You can do it. Put yourself out there and fulfil your potential. Anything is possible if you take an opportunity by the scruff of the neck. The people I’ve met have helped me become a stronger person and have completely changed my mindset and confidence in myself. So with that, thank you, sports journalism. Thank you to the people I’ve met along the way; this is a love letter to all of you.
