Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

Britain's chances of leaving Europe are higher than you think

The forces of In are in bigger trouble than they realise.

Out of one campaign and straight into another. David Cameron's re-election has effectively kicked off the campaign to keep Britain in the European Union. But it's the forces of Out that have started early. Graeme MacDonald tells the Guardian it would be better to leave the EU rather than stay in an unreformed Union:

I think it would be, because I really don’t think it would make a blind bit of difference to trade with Europe. There has been far too much scaremongering about things like jobs. I don’t think it’s in anyone’s interest to stop trade. I don’t think we or Brussels will put up trade barriers.”

Of course, the overwhelming number of banks and large businesses remain opposed to Britain leaving the European Union. It remains the case that, in so far as you can generalise, the view of British business is "better off in". 

But the Out campaign doesn't need the support of a majority or even close to 50 per cent of British businesses. It needs enough to muddy the waters, to allow its proxies to appear on television and describe the business community as "divided". "One in ten - and it's far more than that - will do," in the words of one senior member of the Out campaign in utero. 

As I've written before, the campaign to leave the European Union has already been quietly assembled. The playbook will be the same as No to AV: Conservative money, a few Labour figureheads, and a wide variety of "apolitical" talking heads and campaigners. The In campaign, however, is still divided. Some believe that the best hope for victory is to make it a referendum on Nigel Farage. Others say that the Better Together operation - a largely passionless focus on the risks of exit - is the one to emulate. 

But there are problems with both approaches. However much the In campaign might wish it, Farage will not be the face of the Out campaign in the country at large. And Better Together had the advantage of a sympathetic media that wrote up the interventions from George Osborne, Gordon Brown, the Bank of England, the big supermarkets and other notable institutions entirely sympathetically. It seems highly unlikely that the In campaign will recieve the same treatment from the Mail and the Sun. 

At time of writing, a tenner on Britain leaving Europe gets you thirty quid. That looks like a depressingly good bet to me.

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. He usually writes about politics. 

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