The starting gun: in a grey and rainy Ohio, early voting begins

Nicky Woolf's latest dispatch from Hicksville, Defiance County.

A new morning means a new email from the campaigns. Usually, it means several new emails of increasing neediness – fundraising deadlines have been approaching recently. But today's are different. Today, the campaign enters a new phase today. Today's emails are Get-Out-The-Vote emails.

At eight this morning across a grey and rainy Ohio, polling stations opened to allow early voting. Hicksville's nearest is in the county seat of Defiance, and the polling station is in the local electoral services office. Six or seven people queue good-naturedly in the warm.

Semi-retired warehouse worker Todd Walker describes himself as an independent. “I looked at both candidates, and I made my decision. I voted for the President. I wish there was a better candidate from the Republican party, but there isn't.”

It is not just the Presidential election that excites people here. Ohio Restricting Amendment, Issue 2 has been proposed by the state's Democrat party; it is an ordinance which prevents gerrymandering. It is foremost in people's minds outside the Defiance polling booth. “Issue 2 is the most important to us,” says Susan Brogan, who has come with her wheelchair-bound mother Sherry to beat the queues.  Todd Walker agrees: “I don't want gerrymandering.”

Jim Jurcevitch, at the board of elections, is helping to operate the station. He is not expecting a rush today. “Educated guess? There'll be about 200, because of the weather.”

Early voting is a crucial factor. In Defiance county in the 2008 Presidential election there were 4,800 early ballots cast – both in-person and absentee. McCain's majority in the county was only a little over over 2,000 – and the ratio is the same all over the state, where more than quarter of a million early votes were cast. Early voting could carry Ohio – that's why there's been so much foul play around early voting here. The campaigns are trying to capitalise on this huge electoral resource.

Charlie Grey is the chair of the local Democratic party. I ask if he's expecting trouble, and he answers quickly: “Yes. But it won't be widespread.” He squares his shoulders like a man about to go to war. “We're watching for it.”

There's no sign of trouble at the Defiance polling station. Sherry Brogan doesn't feel like an electoral resource; she's just enjoying flexing her democratic muscles. “It feels great,” she tells me as she and her daughter head for the exit. “I could do it all over again.”

A voter at the Wood County Court House October 2 in Bowling Green, Ohio. Photo: Getty

Nicky Woolf is reporting for the New Statesman from the US. He tweets @NickyWoolf.

Steve Garry
Show Hide image

The footie is back. Three weeks in and what have we learned so far?

Barcleys, boots and big names... the Prem is back.

Another season, another reason for making whoopee cushions and giving them to Spurs fans to cheer them up during the long winter afternoons ahead. What have we learned so far?

Big names are vital. Just ask the manager of the Man United shop. The arrival of Schneiderlin and Schweinsteiger has done wonders for the sale of repro tops and they’ve run out of letters. Benedict Cumberbatch, please join Carlisle United. They’re desperate for some extra income.

Beards are still in. The whole Prem is bristling with them, the skinniest, weediest player convinced he’s Andrea Pirlo. Even my young friend and neighbour Ed Miliband has grown a beard, according to his holiday snaps. Sign him.

Boots Not always had my best specs on, but here and abroad I detect a new form of bootee creeping in – slightly higher on the ankle, not heavy-plated as in the old days but very light, probably made from the bums of newborn babies.

Barclays Still driving me mad. Now it’s screaming from the perimeter boards that it’s “Championing the true Spirit of the Game”. What the hell does that mean? Thank God this is its last season as proud sponsor of the Prem.

Pitches Some groundsmen have clearly been on the weeds. How else can you explain the Stoke pitch suddenly having concentric circles, while Southampton and Portsmouth have acquired tartan stripes? Go easy on the mowers, chaps. Footballers find it hard enough to pass in straight lines.

Strips Have you seen the Everton third kit top? Like a cheap market-stall T-shirt, but the colour, my dears, the colour is gorgeous – it’s Thames green. Yes, the very same we painted our front door back in the Seventies. The whole street copied, then le toot middle classes everywhere.

Scott Spedding Which international team do you think he plays for? I switched on the telly to find it was rugby, heard his name and thought, goodo, must be Scotland, come on, Scotland. Turned out to be the England-France game. Hmm, must be a member of that famous Cumbrian family, the Speddings from Mirehouse, where Tennyson imagined King Arthur’s Excalibur coming out the lake. Blow me, Scott Spedding turns out to be a Frenchman. Though he only acquired French citizenship last year, having been born and bred in South Africa. What’s in a name, eh?

Footballers are just so last season. Wayne Rooney and Harry Kane can’t score. The really good ones won’t come here – all we get is the crocks, the elderly, the bench-warmers, yet still we look to them to be our saviour. Oh my God, let’s hope we sign Falcao, he’s a genius, will make all the difference, so prayed all the Man United fans. Hold on: Chelsea fans. I’ve forgotten now where he went. They seek him here, they seek him there, is he alive or on the stairs, who feckin’ cares?

John Stones of Everton – brilliant season so far, now he is a genius, the solution to all of Chelsea’s problems, the heir to John Terry, captain of England for decades. Once he gets out of short trousers and learns to tie his own laces . . .

Managers are the real interest. So refreshing to have three young British managers in the Prem – Alex Neil at Norwich (34), Eddie Howe at Bournemouth (37) and that old hand at Swansea, Garry Monk, (36). Young Master Howe looks like a ball boy. Or a tea boy.

Mourinho is, of course, the main attraction. He has given us the best start to any of his seasons on this planet. Can you ever take your eyes off him? That handsome hooded look, that sarcastic sneer, the imperious hand in the air – and in his hair – all those languages, he’s so clearly brilliant, and yet, like many clever people, often lacking in common sense. How could he come down so heavily on Eva Carneiro, his Chelsea doctor? Just because you’re losing? Yes, José has been the best fun so far – plus Chelsea’s poor start. God, please don’t let him fall out with Abramovich. José, we need you.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism