Barmy Army is more than just booze and brass as Pakistan tour beckons
The casual cricket fan – particularly one who avoids social media – could conceivably think England’s Barmy Army remains a wholly amateur affair.
A regular run of printed T-shirts, perhaps, and an uncomfortably large WhatsApp group. A scratch brass quartet and a couple of organised types who block-book flights to the Caribbean or Cape Town. That would be about the size of it; or so the uninitiated may believe.
Cricket’s more avid followers know the reality. Since its inception nearly 30 years ago on the 1994-95 Ashes tour to Australia, the Barmy Army has become a phenomenon, constantly visible and certainly audible wherever England are playing. It has transformed into a smartly run travel company specialising in selling cricket tours, that now aims to diversify into offering British & Irish Lions and Ryder Cup packages.
Pakistan is the next stop, 17 years since England’s previous visit for a Test series, but the recent assassination attempt on Imran Khan has thrown the itinerary into doubt. A decision is imminent on moving the first Test, due to begin on 1 December, from Rawalpindi.
“We’re working on extra measures to see how we can provide that extra comfort to anyone that’s travelling,” says Chris Millard, the Barmy Army’s 28-year-old managing director, of the security situation. “If we can play our role in making sure it’s as safe as possible we’ll try our best to do so. We’re in direct communication with the consulate.”
It is a different world now from the 1990s, an era when the Baggy Greens, led by Mark Taylor and then Steve Waugh, turned into a ruthless Pombashing machine. Through all those gleeful beatings over five days or fewer, English fans kept on coming, and carried on singing.
Their enthusiasm for taking a drubbing on the cricket field became an object of confusion, curiosity and mirth. A term casually coined by an Australian journalist was a reflection of what was, based on results, a desperate time for English cricket.
“It was a case of England getting battered. Fans doing the conga, getting all sorts of stuff chucked at them, fruit and whatever,” Andy Thompson tells the Guardian. Thompson led the Army’s tours for several years, and has witnessed 71 of England’s overseas Tests. “I don’t think the locals could understand the humour, really,” he says. “Somebody wrote, ‘They’re the Barmy Army’ and it caught on.”
There was method in the madness. Even before the end of that 94-95 tour, having initially printed “Atherton’s Barmy Army” on T-shirts and shifted a few hundred, the astute founders had trademarked the Barmy Army brand. It is fair to observe that the organisation continues to divide opinion. From obvious complaints such as the relentless singing, through to more delicate postcolonial tensions inherent in plastering foreign stadiums with the flag of St George, it is a complicated picture.
There is a discussion to be had about the commodification of sporting passion, and what can be perceived as forced fun. Simultaneously loving Ben Stokes and leaving your shoes on remains a valid choice. But like it or not, the Barmy Army is in the dictionary, part of the lexicon, a pillar of the sport’s establishment. Is it, perhaps, a bit too easy to criticise?
Significantly, at a moment when the existence of the five-day game is threatened by shorter formats and an increasingly jammed calendar, the Barmy Army continues to go into bat for the future of Test cricket. “I do think while the Barmy Army is around, Test cricket will still be played,” says Millard. “We’re really passionate Test cricket fans. That’s where we developed from, and it will always be our roots.”
An England tour to Barbados, as Millard says, generates millions of dollars for the hosts’ economy. The locals naturally welcome it, although they, like England fans, must wait at least five years for the next Caribbean Test tour.
The organisation is also committed to increasing diversity among its 40,000-plus membership. “We don’t want it assumed we’re middle-class men drinking on terraces. It’s just not true,” Millard says. “The demographic is wider than that, and that’s something we should be proud of.”
Thompson, who will travel to Pakistan, adds: “There’s the image of sunburn and tight football shirts. That’s an incorrect stereotype, really. We know our cricket. Most of the journalists know us, and respect us.” He says a number of tourists are “widows, widowers, single travellers who want to travel on their own but be with like-minded people”.
The Barmy Army are also determined fundraisers, involved with local charities wherever England tour. They actively support women’s cricket, having sponsored a team at the FairBreak T20 tournament in Dubai this year.
The cost of their packages is an issue for some, but as Millard says: “We can’t do everything for free … we run a membership that’s only £35 a year, and for that we give access to ‘beat the ballot’ Ashes tickets.” Millard points out that in 2020, when the pandemic forced the cancellation of England’s Sri Lanka trip, full refunds were issued within a couple of days.Back in the 1990s, attitudes from the press box were distinctly sniffy and suspicious. As Thompson says, however, the majority of journalists have come to see the Barmy Army as a force for good: loyal, genuine supporters who love the game.
And never mind the media – it is notable that players, not just England’s, have been converted. “Playing in front of the English fans has been an absolute pleasure,” the West Indies wicketkeeper Joshua Da Silva told the Guardian during England’s tour in March. “I love the songs, the jokes, the laughter … the Barmy Army has pushed us on to play hard Test cricket.”
Rawalpindi is (for the moment) the next stop. “It’s been such a long time since we’ve been to Pakistan,” says Millard. “We reckon there’ll be 100 to 150 members there, which is a great number. We’re excited for it.”
Defending the longest form of the game while reviving sports-driven tourism to destinations such as Pakistan. Having fun and raising money for charity. Boosting the women’s game. Even motivating England’s opponents to play harder Test cricket. What, exactly, could be the problem?
“To get the true experience, you need to get on a plane to Pakistan with us,” Thompson says. It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.
This is an extract from the Guardian’s weekly cricket email, The Spin. To subscribe, just visit this page and follow the instructions.