Is it a marathon, a sprint or jogging on the spot, Ed?

The Labour leader's strategy relies on voters one day realising that he was right all along. Then re

The Labour leader's strategy relies on voters one day realising that he was right all along. Then rewarding him for it.{C}

The Financial Times has an interview with Ed Miliband this morning, revealing in that it shows the Labour leader unperturbed by his party's apparent failure to break through in opinion polls and confident that voters are swinging in his general direction.

In fact, he tells the FT opinion is "moving significantly towards us" and cites as evidence the fact that David Cameron has had to imitate some of Labour's language about responsibility at the top of society and excessive corporate pay.

Meanwhile, the Labour leader continues to express certainty that, eventually, voters will see that the coalition's economic plans have unravelled and start listening more to the opposition.

I think 2011 was the year when the economic argument has shifted. The government's economic strategy has fallen apart in my view.

Well yes, that is his view and he soldiers on in dogged determination to bring the country round to sharing it. The problem is that Miliband has yet to demonstrate that he has any effective techniques for mass persuasion. By his own admission, Cameron is prepared to ape Labour's potentially popular banker-bashing postures and there is a peculiar complacency in thinking that voters care who said something first. Miliband's strategy seems to be based on an assumption that you can build a wonderful edifice of analytical truth about the failings of the current system and critiques of the incumbent government, so it is all ready to be admired when the electorate deigns to pay attention. I can't think of an example of this approach - build it and they'll come - working in recent political history.

Of course, Labour can take some comfort from the party's fairly easy win in yesterday's by election in Feltham and Heston. I doubt that will stop the frustrated murmuring that is getting louder on the opposition benches. The party's strategic dilemma, or rather its confusion, is neatly encapsulated in one especially odd line from the Miliband interview today:

I always said it would be a long journey to be just a one-term opposition.

Surely if the ambition is to be in opposition for just one term, the journey is, by definition, relatively short. You can just about see his point - there is a lot of work to do in a short space of time. But at the moment it feels as if Labour hasn't decided whether it is running a marathon or a sprint - or maybe just jogging on the spot.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

Getty
Show Hide image

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