Take heart, trooper. Ben Stokes's squad could be approaching the upcoming Ashes Test now 2-0 down, but some remain in English cricket is disheartened. Exists one unit perfectly suited for these circumstances, a crack(pot) unit who are arguably the quintessential experts in defeat. Have your dreams been shattered? Are you crushed beneath the pressure of unmet expectation? Well then, enlist with the Barmy Army.
As we speak, their first wave are moving in on Adelaide, the city where they first came together 30 years ago. England's most famous – and for their size most vocal – tourist followers will be anticipating an triumphant anniversary upset, like the one they saw on that 1994-95 tour. Furthermore whatever happens on the pitch, off it the parties will be long and loud.
"England's performance been extremely disappointing," he admits, "but we're the blessed group, because we're on holiday. It's likely harder for the people at home."
Despite Bazball's nuclear implosion doesn't trouble this band of seasoned campaigners. They've been observing England's innings meltdowns since earlier than a new generation were born. They've witnessed more dropped catches than star players have career scalps. Their personal stats as an Ashes touring group is: a long history with more defeats than victories. Those who understand how to survive a series sweep, that would be the long-standing fans.
Certainly, if you're watching, the Barmy Army appear to be everywhere in this contest. Australian cameras at the grounds frequently appear more focused on the Barmies than on their own fans. Sports networks frequently use them as atmosphere-building buildup to a day's play. Even the cricketers on the field acknowledge them, with a fan dressed as a monarch starting a chorus of a national hymn.
Perhaps that the Barmy Army's dual effect of history and ubiquity has now overshadowed quite how stunning their rise of travelling fandom has been. In the early 1990s a few backpackers were drawn together in wry humour about failure at England's poor away record. Now their reputation is so linked with the men's Test side that their boisterous, "unconventional" crowd is practically part of the furniture. They've certainly come a great distance since the early days.
One veteran recalls the buoyant hope of the series start of that pioneering tour. After the Australians on top, he initiated a six-person conga in the stands, teasing the locals with a chant about historical figures. "Local crowds shouted insults at us, then threw plastic cups – the kind of thing that we occasionally encounter today," he remembers. "However when we got back our little group of England followers had all taken part."
Following defeat, England's tour faced further difficulties. Those following the team around the country surely was truly dedicated. When it came to the Melbourne and Sydney matches their ranks had swelled to the hundreds. Those on the field, however, came to value their noise at the grounds. When England pulled off a consolation win, a team captain beckoned a supporter up to the victory celebration to join in the festivities. That bond remains.
Additionally, the sheer numbers the Barmy Army can conjure are as valuable to the English game as they are to international stadiums. On this tour alone, their official tours will accommodate a significant contingent of supporters. Numerous activities are planned for the 30th anniversary.
This is, after all, an group born of love for the game and commercial nous. The reason they trace their origin to a specific Test is because that was when they started offering souvenir shirts. The short initial run was so instantly popular – and financially rewarding – that it launched a commercial operation. From that point, the co-founders have helped turn a pub-based supporters into an major sports tourism business.
That brings its own complexities, especially at a time when sport is attempting to move beyond some of its rowdy image. The Barmy Army's management are quick to note that a sizable minority of their travelling fans are now women. As times have changed, the songs have had to get more family-friendly, too. "Comments that were acceptable 30 years ago you must avoid now, and that's correct," says a representative. "It's not possible to tell someone how to behave in their own space, but we do not endorse songs that are offensive."
Could the Barmy Army mellow naturally? The demographic is now in middle age – mirroring the founders themselves, who have been pleased to step away from the management. One founder is experiencing this tour purely as a supporter – leaving young professionals to manage the Barmy Army's social media. "It's easy to overlook how challenging it used to be to communicate with each other," he laughs. "It was all done all by word of mouth – 'everyone's going to the pub!'"
As for England's plight, the faint hope of a historic comeback remains alive, which is very mid-90s indeed. And if England succumb in Adelaide … well, future travels is always an option.
Elara Vance is a tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering AI, cybersecurity, and emerging technologies across Europe.