The South Stand

Lore & Background

The South Stand has weathered more change than any other part of the City Ground, yet its soul has never shifted. In the earliest days it was a timber-and-iron roof over a sloping bank of earth, where men in flat caps and woollen scarves packed in shoulder to shoulder. There were no seats, no programmes, no hospitality boxes—just the smell of wet grass, the thud of boots on the terraced ground, and the roar that could be heard two streets down on Forest Road. That raw, unfiltered atmosphere is what older supporters still point to when they say the ground 'used to feel different,' even if the different is mostly in the comfort rather than the passion.

Through the post-war decades and into the 1970s, the South Stand was the undisputed centre of Forest life. Brian Clough's revolution in 1975 found its loudest echo there: the South Stand terrace was the first to catch the rhythm of the new style, the first to sing the songs that would become fixtures of the club's identity. When the 1979 European Cup final in Madrid was won, the celebrations back at the City Ground poured through the South Stand entrance, and the stand became the stage for the spontaneous, chaotic, glorious party that the city still tells and retells. A year later, the same stand roared Forest to back-to-back European Cups, a feat no other English club had managed. The South Stand was not just watching history; it was making it.

In the more modern era, the stand has been redeveloped and rebuilt to meet safety and comfort standards, but the club has been careful to preserve its character. The terrace remains, the sightlines are still direct and intimate, and the dressing-room corridor still runs beneath the seats. For the travelling fan arriving from the East or West Stand, the South Stand is the destination—the place where the noise is thickest, where the flag-waving is most frantic, and where the sense of 'this is ours' is most absolute.

In Their Own Story

November, half past three. The floodlights haven't come on yet, but the sky over the City Ground is going the colour of old brass, and the South Stand is already a living thing. You can feel it before you hear it: a low, rumbling vibration in the concrete under your boots, the collective exhale of three thousand people shifting in their seats. Then the sound hits—a wave, not a single voice, but a thousand throats finding the same four bars of 'Forest Forever' and holding them until the note bends. A kid in a too-big replica shirt at the front of the terrace is screaming the words, eyes shut, arms wide. His dad, two rows back, is just nodding along, smiling, not singing, but there. The ball is still in the tunnel. The match hasn't started. It doesn't need to. The South Stand is already playing.

Reader's Guide

Walk into the South Stand on a matchday and the first thing you notice is the proximity. You are close to the pitch—closer than in most modern grounds—and that closeness changes everything. The ball hits the net and you feel the vibration in the steel rail before the ref even blows the whistle. The players' voices carry. You can hear a defender shout 'come on, come on' and it lands in your chest like a hand on the shoulder.

The terrace is the heart. It's not a sea of seats; it's a bank of bodies, and the movement is constant. When Forest win the ball, the whole section rises a few inches, a collective inhale. When they lose it, a groan rolls through like a slow wave. The songs come in layers: the big anthem, 'Nottingham Forest, we're the team of the town,' comes first, then the faster chants, then the individual whoops and jeers that never fully stop. You learn the rhythm in one game. You never unlearn it.

The dressing-room corridor runs beneath the stands, and on big nights you can feel the footsteps of the players heading out, a muffled thud-thud-thud under the concrete. The South Stand is where the club lives and breathes. The offices are above, the history is in the walls, and the sound—God, the sound—fills your ears and stays in them for the rest of the week. That's the thing about the South Stand. It doesn't let go.

Did You Know?

• The South Stand is the oldest structure at the City Ground, originating as a covered grandstand in the early 1900s, predating the other three stands.
• It houses the home dressing rooms and the club's main administrative offices, making it the operational centre of Nottingham Forest.
• The South Stand terrace was the focal point of the celebrations after Forest's back-to-back European Cup wins in 1979 and 1980, a record no other English club has matched.
• The stand's intimate sightlines—closer to the pitch than most modern stadiums—mean supporters can hear players' voices and feel the vibration of the ball hitting the net.