Happy birthday to Britain's fourth party (that's the Greens, not Ukip)

Nigel Farage's party would crave UK political representation to match that of the Greens.

As exotic locations go, a Coventry solicitors’ office does not rank very highly. Yet the motley group who met there 40 years ago tomorrow live on. What these 43 people created in 1973 is now established as the UK’s fourth biggest political party.

Affording such status to the Green Party may ignore Ukip’s current surge. But Ukip would crave UK political representation to match that of the Greens. The Green Party has 141 councillors, nearly four times as many as Ukip’s 39. While former party leader Caroline Lucas won Brighton Pavilion to become the first Green MP at the last general election, Ukip leader Nigel Farage, running against only John Bercow of the main three parties, was beaten by an independent candidate dressed as a dolphin.

So, after two name changes and much mockery, the Greens have achieved something tangible. Where they have had success, it has come from recognising that no election is too small; the party’s development in Brighton serves as a model of local politics at its best. Years of campaigning and gaining councillors – and then control of the council – culminated in Lucas’s election in 2010. A similar strategy has led to electoral dividends in Norwich, where the Greens have 15 councillors and could gain their second MP in 2015.

Despite these successes, the party should feel frustration too. Progress since the general election could generously be described as anaemic. The anti-establishment streak of Lib Dem voters disillusioned with the coalition should be prime Green targets. But the Greens aren’t even fielding a candidate in Eastleigh, saying they will concentrate on the county council elections instead.

In great contrast to Ukip, they have barely impacted upon the national debate. While the Greens might justifiably complain that they have been featured less on programmes like Question Time, Ukip have, through persistence and Farage’s zeal, used their media showings to steer the public debate.

The Greens' failure has been in not creating a clear, easily understandable link between their ideas and solutions to Britain’s problems. People may not agree with Ukip’s solution of leaving the EU; at least everyone understands it. Until it can resolve this problem, the perception of the party as the preserve of the middle-class will remain.

Yet for all that the Greens must envy Ukip’s prominence in political discourse, so Ukip long for representation to rival theirs - and above all a Westminster presence. To Greens that – and the knowledge of how far they have come from that Coventry meeting – must be worthy of a birthday toast.

Caroline Lucas became the first Green MP when she won Brighton Pavilion at the 2010 general election.

Tim Wigmore is a contributing writer to the New Statesman and the author of Second XI: Cricket In Its Outposts.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

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 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war