Bellwether blues in Defiance County, Ohio

"If Obama can carry 40 per cent in Defiance, he'll carry Ohio. If he carries Ohio, he carries the election."

Until 2008, Defiance County – where Hicksville lies – was the country's most accurate bellwether. Between 1980 and 2008, Defiance differed from the national electoral result more than two per cent only twice – and was less than one half of one percent away from the national result in 1984, 1992 and 1996. This gave it the honour of being the county in the whole of the United States that most closely prefigured the national mood.

This all changed in the last election, when Defiance elected John McCain 54.2 per cent to 43.8 per cent - not a whitewash as such, but a swing rightwards from the national trend nonetheless. Wood County, just north of here, has in fact been a bellwether for longer – its results in presidential elections have gone with the overall winner every election since 1964 – but with less accuracy than Defiance.

This state of Ohio, meanwhile, is on the longest winning streak of any state in history. Obama's victory in 2008 was Ohio's record-breaking twelfth election in a row voting with the winner. In fact, Ohio has only picked a loser twice since 1896: once when it voted for Thomas Dewey against the Roosevelt in 1944, and once in 1960 when it voted for Nixon over Kennedy – though in the latter case Ohioans could argue that they were merely eight years ahead of the curve.

Why did Defiance lose its bellwether status in 2008? A few reasons. For many here, the Obama groundswell of hope and change meant little. North-west Ohio is right in the middle of the rust belt: this is car country, but it's also grain country. Defiance (named by a Revolution-era general called Mad Anthony), may have a large General Motors plant which used to employ upwards of 5,000 people – currently around 1400 – but the county around it is very rural. This is small-town America, where everyone knows everyone's name, where people wave at you in the street, a place where people set a lot of store by values, morals and tradition. Chicago can frankly keep its hope and its change, as far as many people here are concerned, this is small-c conservative heartland.

Religion is a major factor too. “This is also definitely the Bible Belt,” says Jack Palmer, a long-time writer for the Crescent News, the local paper in Defiance. I have seen this for myself; I spoke to a shop assistant who told me she avoids politics generally, but will vote for Romney because of his stance on abortion. Since I arrived here I've heard this line, or a variation of it, quite often.

“You've got a lot of anti-Obama feeling, too,” Palmer continues. “I mean, you only have to read our Letters to the Editor to see that. But there's also a libertarian streak in Defiance. A lot of people consider themselves 'independents'. Certainly, among non single-issue voters, the 'Osama Bin Laden is dead and General Motors is alive' message will go a long way.”

Defiance County can still give more than a clue as to the electoral outcome come November. In 2000 and 2004, the Democratic candidates – Al Gore and John Kerry – received 38 per cent and 37.7 per cent respectively, and the state as a whole lost. Obama, despite losing the county, won a much more respectable 43.8 per cent of the vote here – and carried the state. So, if we assume that Ohio overall as a bellwether has a very slight Republican bias, that bias is identifiable as the 40 per cent threshold in Defiance county.

Palmer sums it up: “If Obama can carry 40 per cent in Defiance, in the six-county area [Defiance and the surrounding five north-western counties] then he'll carry Ohio.” And if he carries Ohio? “He carries the election.”

The grain silo in the middle of Hicksville town centre. Photograph: Nicky Woolf

Nicky Woolf is a writer for the Guardian based in the US. He tweets @NickyWoolf.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

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 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times