From Wikipedia: 'The Hillsborough disaster occurred on 15 April 1989 at the Hillsborough Stadium in Sheffield, England. During the FA Cup semi-final match between Liverpool and Nottingham Forest football clubs, a human crush resulted in the deaths of 96 people and injuries to 766 others. The incident has since been blamed primarily on the police for letting too many people enter the stadium. It remains the worst stadium-related disaster in British history, and one of the world's worst football disasters'.
The riders were shocked at the theft and disappointed not to take part in the ride. Kind donors offered bikes but they couldn't face the ride after their loss.
Theft of any sort deprives the owner of what is rightfully theirs. In this case, the despicable crime disadvantaged the town of it's honor.
Here's an excerpt from the novel I'm working on, Shattered Shells. With the aid of my writing, I share thoughts about ownership.
Georg cut in. "That was a fragment taken from a myth. All nonsense. We're in charge of our own life. Here's what I think." His rugged face pinched up. "The creator is a computer programmer. He's set mankind up as avatars and let us loose to see who works out the best. There are no rules."
"I agree," Liliha said. "Each person is free to choose good or bad."
"What if the programmer," Harry said, "is the leader of the little gray men?"
"I like to think of the programmer as God," Liliha said, although neither man took notice.
"Let me make my point," Georg said. "We avatars run around grabbing as much as we can get away with. The one who acquires the most is the winner."
Liliha asked, "Well, how come the programmer didn't create all his avatars the same? Why are some weak and some strong--mentally and physically? That's just not fair. How could the weak win?"
"It's up to them to rise," Georg said, "any way they can."
Harry leaned forward with a frown. "The little gray men could have just left us to breed and interbreed, obeying all the laws of nature." He glared at Georg. "In nature, the strongest survive."
"My point exactly." Georg's voice rose. "The strongest make off with the goods."
Liliha glanced from one to the other. "I don't think life's about personal wealth."
They both turned on her.
"What is life about, then?" Georg asked, maintaining a stern expression.
"Making the right decisions," she said. "Putting the needs and desires of others on the same level as your own."
"We're not ants," Harry said, "working for the colony."
"Or bees," Georg said, "gathering honey."
"We're people," Liliha said, lips a little looser than usual. Probably the alcohol. "We should help each other."
"Are you okay with this discussion, Liliha?" Harry asked.
She nodded. Not exactly. But at least the debate made her think.
"Do you share everything you have?" A strange light shone from Georg's eyes.
Liliha gulped the rest of her drink. "Not everything. I need to keep enough to survive."
"What about your ring?" Georg stared at her star moonstone.
Liliha sighed. "We can't share everything. Somebody has to own each thing."
"That's my point," Georg said, loud and strident. "It's up to each individual to accumulate."
"I speculate to accumulate," Harry said with a laugh. "On the horses."
"Say I wanted your ring." Georg drew a breath and concentrated on Liliha. "Would you give it to me?"
Nervous now, Liliha said, "No."
"If I begged? If I told you I needed it?"
Liliha placed her other palm over the smooth stone. "The ring belongs to me."
Harry shifted in his seat beside her.
"By what right?" Georg asked. "The programmer wants me to have it. I got a direct message." He gazed up at the smoke-stained ceiling.
Liliha fiddled with her empty glass. "Your great programmer sent the ring to my grandmother and she passed the inheritance on to me."
"But we should share," Georg said. "Help me out here, Harry."
Harry leaned closer to Liliha. "Leave her alone, Georg. She needs another drink."
"Let me try the ring on," Georg held out his hand. "At least you can share. Go on."
She shook her head.
A slight frown creased Harry's brow. "You're acting like a bully."
"Give me one good reason why you won't share," Georg said.
An edgy laugh escaped her. "Because I don't want to."
Georg gestured with his outstretched hand, curling his fingers toward him. "Let me hold it."
"I could just say no."
"You wouldn't want to be selfish," Georg said.
Anger rose inside her. "I could leave, right now."
"Don't go away mad." Georg's voice took on a teasing tone. He reached for her hand.