Remembering Maddy Cusack: A Family's Tribute and Ongoing Fight

On a quiet bench in a Derbyshire park, the fight to remember Maddy Cusack properly goes on.

The plaque carries her name. The stories carry everything else.

Her sister, Olivia, calls her “my sunshine”, the person she’d looked up to all her life. Cousin Emily Reilly laughs as she remembers the one who “used to get us in trouble with my dad”. The mischief-maker. The ringleader. The one who had the ideas, then watched someone else take the blame.

Three years after Maddy’s death, those memories feel more precious than ever. Because the answers still haven’t come.

A family still waiting

Maddy, a midfielder for Sheffield United, was 27 when she was found unconscious at her home in Derbyshire on 20 September 2023. An inquest into her death began in June this year and was expected to finish in July.

It didn’t.

After just under two weeks of hearings, the coroner adjourned the inquest. Sheffield United had been asked to find documents linked to Maddy’s medical records. Months later, that search has left everything stuck in limbo.

The case is now not expected to resume until at least December.

For a family already through two previous delays, it feels like another heavy blow.

“It is very emotional and you can find yourself frustrated at times,” Olivia tells BBC Newsbeat. “They’re very difficult days.” She describes the wait as “extremely overwhelming”.

The inquest has already heard evidence about Maddy’s mental health struggles and her time at Sheffield United, including her relationship with head coach Jonathan Morgan.

Her mother has given evidence. So has Morgan, who told the inquest he had “no concerns” about their relationship and said “things have not been portrayed factually or correctly with how she was feeling”.

Every detail of that period has been pulled apart. Her wellbeing. Her working environment. Her relationships.

What her family feels has not been fully seen is Maddy herself.

More than a shirt number

As the questioning went on, Olivia says something started to gnaw at her.

“It dawned on me that when people were asked questions about Maddy and to share what she was like as a person, they were all very similar answers and quite focused on the football side of her,” she says.

“People don’t seem to know her like we did – of course they don’t. But I wanted to introduce a different side of Maddy.

“I wanted them to know more than the number on the back of her shirt or the colours that she wore on the football pitch.”

To Olivia and Emily, that “different side” lives here, at a memorial bench in Scargill Park in West Hallam, the village where they all grew up.

They come back often. This is where the stories flow.

Both have birthdays at the end of October. They used to plan them together. Now, Emily says, “I just come here.”

“She used to get us in trouble with my dad when we were younger,” Emily recalls. “It was always her idea then I’d take the blame for it.”

The inquest has dwelt on the darkest period of Maddy’s life. Her family are determined the light doesn’t get lost.

Carrying her story forward

Since Maddy’s death, Olivia has thrown herself into campaigning in her sister’s name. The family have set up a foundation to support aspiring female footballers, a project that has become both tribute and lifeline.

“The foundation keeps me going,” she says. “It’s been a real lifeline to be able to continue her story.”

On Saturday, that story was written on the road.

Olivia organised a walk from Bramall Lane, Sheffield United’s ground, to near Derby, where Maddy lived – almost 30 miles on foot. Friends, family, supporters. All pushing themselves over the same long stretch of tarmac.

“The aim with the walk is just to do her proud,” Olivia says. “Maddy would love that we were all challenging ourselves.”

Sheffield United ordered an external report in the aftermath of Maddy’s death. It cleared the club of wrongdoing. A second report, commissioned by the Football Association in early 2024, has been completed but will not be published until the inquest finally concludes.

So the legal process waits. The paperwork waits. The family doesn’t.

“She will only ever remain a part of this life if we keep saying her name and keep remembering her,” Olivia says.

“And as painful as that can be on days where you want to forget and you just want to stay in bed all day and not face the world, I try and make a conscious effort to keep saying her name and keep her living alongside us ultimately.”

The inquest will, eventually, deliver its verdict. The reports will, eventually, be made public.

Until then, a bench in a small Derbyshire park does a quieter job: holding a space for the version of Maddy Cusack her family refuses to let the world forget.