For some while during the late 80s it was
common for conversations on the inadequacies of
the England football team to centre on the lack
of a defensively solid-yet-attack-minded winger.
Traditionally this discussion was brought to a
conclusion with mass exclamation of the words,
"We've never really replaced Steve Coppell".
I imagine that these days something similar must
be heard coming from the lips of television
outside-broadcast crews as they feverishly scan
the crowd at England's matches. They are looking
for a conspicuous, talented fan with the ability
to conjure something a little bit special for the
people at home during moments when the ball has
gone out of play. Someone they can use to say
"England" to the viewers in the same
way US movie directors use a still of Big Ben and
a snatch of The British Grenadiers. Sadly, as was
obvious during last week's match at Villa Park,
despite the face paint and the wacky headgear we
just don't have the individuals any more.
Because, when it comes to a ubiquitous and easily
recognisable supporter of the national team, it
has to be said that we've never really replaced
the red-white-and-blue-wearing Ken Bailey. The
diminutive, tail-coated Bailey was a fixture of
England matches, a target-man for the cameras.
Since his death nobody has been found to fill his
top hat and other nations have overtaken us.
Colombia, for example, have unexpectedly come
from nowhere with their spectacular birdman. Clad
from head to toe in yellow and blue feathers,
this wunderkind of modern fandom has shot right
to the top during the past decade.
His greatest moment came during a match at USA 94
when his fellow countrymen lowered him from an
upper tier on a wire so that he could flap in
attention-grabbing style over the heads of the
crowd. That at least is my interpretation of it.
It's possible, of course, that they were actually
attempting to lynch him for bringing shame on the
motherland with his irritating aviform antics.
The Dutch on the other hand have come up with a
typical dashing solution to the problem facing TV
directors and produced a whole roster of fans who
are comfortable on camera. The trio who most
encapsulate this style of total supporterhood are
the Orange Pope, a spectacular if somewhat
paradoxical figure in beard and mitre, and an
elderly couple from the polder country who since
the 1988 Holland v West Germany clash have been
attending games in matching tangerine togas and
wigs made entirely from carrots.
If English fans are ever to match this sort of
thing they have to watch and learn. Luckily, for
the past three weeks they have had a chance to
see how it should be done. At international and
European level we have seen a master at work in
the rotund shape of the Spain and Valencia fan
Manolo, whose drum-beating on behalf of club and
country down the years has made him a favourite
of TV directors the world over. It has to be said
that Manolo's clumping rhythms are not to
everyone's taste. The big man may wear a bebop-style
beret but when it comes to drumming technique he
is more max volume than Max Roach. His style is
simple but brutally effective: he bangs that skin
as hard as he can.And since he has forearms that
look like a couple of Serrano hams, that is very
hard indeed.
When you are sitting 20 yards away from him, as I
was in Holland in 2000, you can feel the beat
thudding up through your feet, rumbling along
your thighs and landing in your stomach with the
kind of jolt that will stir evocative memories in
anyone who has ever grabbed hold of an electric
cattle fence to settle a dare. I don't know what
Manolo does for the rest of the week but if my
experience is anything to go on he could
certainly make a tidy profit hiring himself out
as an alternative remedy for anyone seeking
relief from the discomfort of trapped wind.
Hopefully, watching the big man in action will
have inspired young fans of Manchester United and
England to get out there and practise. Meanwhile
the country awaits the new Ken Bailey. What we
need is an elfin, bald and slightly lost-looking
figure who will wave the union flag at every
public opportunity. Yes, I know what you are
thinking. But I reckon we should leave William
Hague out of this.
Our
Football Correspondent
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