The greatest football song of all time is Three Lions by Baddiel & Skinner & The Lightning Seeds. It works both on the radio and being belted out by the crowd from the stands. It captures the three essential aspects of being an England fan – nostalgia, pessimism and hope – and it coincided with the last time England gave a decent account of themselves at a major tournament. The FA, desperate for a taste of the Cool Britannia vibe, tried to capitalise on this beautiful union of football and music in October 1996, when they invited the Sheffield Wednesday Kop Band to blow their trumpets at Wembley. The England Supporters Band was born.
I fucking hate The England Band. They fill each 90 minutes repeatedly farting out God Save The Queen, The Great Escape and Rule Britannia to the extent that you actually long to hear the ITV commentary. The England Band provide the sort of non-atmosphere that only a handful of brave Americans experienced through the Apollo space program. But more than just providing medical-grade sterility from the stands, it’s the very symbol of The Band and their continued existence that leaves me furious and afeared in equal measure.
The official England band WILL be at the Euros after the F.A fought to have their ban lifted ?? pic.twitter.com/opziA2fOyM
— Team FA (@TeamFA) June 9, 2016
To give them some credit, you have to admire how The Band are totally oblivious to public opinion. They appear to view themselves on a par with England’s Barmy Army, rather than their actual position on the pecking order below that infuriating Portsmouth fan with the bell. Numerous polls and even petitions have surfaced in recent years hoping to ban The Band, or at least make it clear they’re unwanted, but they play on unabashed. Perhaps, in their delusions of grandeur, they believe they are some sort of bastion for freedom of expression. But what about our democratic right to protest?
One of the most common methods of oppression from The Band is the hijacking of any England chant. The Great Escape is recited to the point that any and all desire for self-expression is crushed and replaced with a sense of ennui that can only come from attending an England game in the flesh. The atmosphere at any live event should ebb and flow with the action, but The England Band actively obstruct that natural interaction between the game and the crowd by constantly droning on in the background. Forget cheering when you get corner in injury time, forget booing the ref, and forget singing about Jamie Vardy’s parties. You’re at Wembley now, creativity and original thought are not welcome here.
Perhaps worst of all is the thought that there might be no end to this torture. A brave security detail in Donetsk refused The Band entry to England’s first game of Euro 2012 and confiscated their instruments. But rather than bestow honours on the Ukrainians and hold a parade to celebrate their intervention, their authority as peacekeepers was undermined when they were required to return the instruments to The Band who were then allowed to play at England’s next game in Kiev.
It’s believed that the FA had a direct influence on this outcome despite a public show of support for the actions of the security team. Not content with alienating the public, The Band lost the support of the private sector in 2014 when a well known brand of pies withdrew their sponsorship. They continue to be propped up by the FA, who seem unlikely to pull the plug given the pre-match entertainment at this year’s FA Cup final.
I hate The England Band but live in hope that one day they will stop. We all have to, because if we don’t have that, what else is there? After the final whistle in England v Wales, I will remind myself of what it is to be an England fan, and the three things that endure: nostalgia, pessimism and hope. The greatest of these is hope.
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