A team’s anthem can strengthen the bond between a club and its fans like nothing else.
It’s May 2016 at St Jakob Park in Basel. The final whistle of the Europa League final is moments away. Not only have Jürgen Klopp’s Liverpool been outplayed by Unai Emery’s Sevilla, a side bursting with energy and power, but the travelling Kop have been comprehensively out-sung by their Spanish counterparts.
It is Liverpool’s first European final since Athens in 2007 and the stadium is a sea of red scarves and banners, but for one corner. As the drizzle falls, that corner is the only part of the ground you hear. Again and again, chants of Sevilla, Sevilla, Sevilla echo off the tight terraces tumbling down on to the pitch.
Spain’s oldest club – their identity writ large in the lyrics of their anthem – offer constant reminders of who they are, why they are here and what they have come for.
“Y Sevilla, Sevilla, Sevilla, aquí estamos contigo, Sevilla, compartiendo la gloria en tu escudo, orgullo del fútbol de nuestra ciudad…”
These words reveal ‘El Himno’ to be no ordinary football song, but a proclamation of identity, unconditional love and pride.
“[A]qui estamos contigo sevilla” (we are with you Sevilla), “compartiendo la gloria en tu escudo” (sharing the glory) and “orgullo” (the pride) of “nuestra ciudad” (our city).
The essence of an anthem is a tie that binds those off the pitch with those on it. The Sevilla fans belting this out on a rainy night in Basel weren’t simply revelling in a third Europa League title in a row, they were heralding a city, a team, and a collective identity; a glorious sense of belonging.
Some teams have them, some teams wish they had them. But what sets apart the anthem from the football song? And what is the difference between an anthem and a battle cry?
TRAGEDY
First things first: an anthem cannot only be about winning. Take for example Hala Madrid. Sung loud and proud on the terraces of the Santiago Bernabéu, it encapsulates everything that the collective football public dislike about Los Blancos.
Hala Madrid y nada mas. The message is unequivocal. Supporting Real is about nothing more than Real and nothing more than winning.
This brings me to my first principle. An anthem must be in some way self-deprecating. It has to acknowledge the peculiar vulnerability of unconditional support. Any other relationship that causes the extent of suffering that supporting a football team brings would be labelled abusive. But, like the twisted masochists we are, we keep crawling back, hoping to be treated better while fearing the worst.
‘An anthem must be in some way self-deprecating. It has to acknowledge the peculiar vulnerability of unconditional support.’
Hibernian’s tearjerking Sunshine on Leith illustrates this with an opening verse of: “My heart was broken (repeated), sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, sorrow.”
The song exists on two levels. It was adopted as the Hibs anthem during the “Hands Off Hibs” campaign in the Nineties as Wallace Mercer, owner of Hibs’ fierce rival Hearts at the time, sought to take over the club. The Proclaimers took part in a rally at Edinburgh’s Usher Hall, and one of their songs that gained particular traction among those gathered in green that day was Sunshine on Leith. It became inextricably woven into the collective efforts to defeat Mercer. David vs Goliath: a battle that Hibs fans ultimately won.
The song confronts inevitable heartbreak, both at the possibility of losing their team and of losing the match, yet the Hibs fans will continue to pour through the turnstiles of Easter Road and support. What message does that send to the players? Regardless of the result, come wind, rain, or shine, we will be with you.
An anthem can’t just be about winning, it must acknowledge failure; a good anthem is not without an air of tragedy.
IDENTITY
Another key facet in the emotional DNA of the anthem is identity. It must communicate a sense of place, both literally and figuratively for players and fans.
In June last year, as Wales beat Ukraine 1-0 courtesy of Gareth Bale, the Red Wall rapturously saluted its heroes. They had climbed the mountain and qualified for their first World Cup in 64 years. Moments later, fans and players joined in a rendition of Yma O Hyd.
Written by Welsh language folksinger Dafydd Iwan, the lyrics are a journey through Welsh myth and legend stretching back to the trials and tribulations of Roman usurper-turned-Welsh-dreamer Magnus Maximus.
With a tangible sense of place established, Iwan’s genius becomes apparent. After all that history, despite the bloodshed and toil, yma o hyd: we are still here. Iwan’s message: we are present and alive, and what a journey it has been.
It is an intoxicating combination of elements. Indeed, it was precisely this heady mix of identity and suffering that propelled Wales all the way to Qatar, where they promptly exited in the group stages managing just a single goal, despite the indomitable efforts of Michael Sheen.
But perhaps their shortcomings in Qatar are telling. Pure emotion, Yma O Hyd, is not enough to sustain a World Cup campaign. However, the fact that Wales even made it there, a country with a population totalling 3.1 million, speaks to the anthem’s inspirational power.
HISTORY
Since Arsenal moved to the Emirates Stadium from Highbury in 2006, they have been searching for an anthem to consecrate their new home. The first one they tried – Elvis Presley’s The Wonder of You – was trotted out to a reception of general apathy. But why did it fail?
“I guess I’ll never know the reason why/ You love me as you do/ That’s the wonder/ The wonder of you…”
On paper, these lyrics would appear to hit all the right marks. The ludicrous irrationality of placing your emotional wellbeing in the hands of 11 strangers. But it felt empty. Ripped from the bosom of Highbury with its magical marble halls, the Gunners desperately needed something that could speak to their history and make the Emirates feel like home. But The Wonder of You lacked authenticity. 50,000 North Londoners had little connection to Elvis or his words. If anything, despite Highbury lying just under half a mile from the Emirates, it only made the Arsenal fans feel further from home.
‘Ripped from the bosom of Highbury with its magical marble halls, the Gunners desperately needed something that could speak to their history and make the Emirates feel like home.’
Now they are trialling something new. In early 2022, singer-songwriter Louis Dunford released the first song from his second EP, The Angel: North London Forever. It is a plangent and nostalgic ode to the borough and its history, the verses taking the listener through the streets of Highbury:
“North London forever/ Whatever the weather these streets are our own/ And my heart will leave you never/ My blood will forever run through the stone.”
And it has worked. After years of acrimony and bitter infighting, the Arsenal fanbase is finally united. Dunford has delivered history to the Emirates, bringing together the fans and the team. Crucially, he has done so by locating his lyrics squarely within the identity of North London.
BEAUTY
It’s the Champions League final in 2019. Spurs face Liverpool at the Metropolitano in Madrid. Old foes José Mourinho and Arsène Wenger are sitting side by side in the studio as pundits for Be-IN Sports. There is the usual pre-match chatter, until suddenly a quiet gathers in the room.
Mourinho gestures for silence as the red and white scarves are hoisted and the Liverpool fans begin their rendition of You’ll Never Walk Alone. He comments: “This is more beautiful than what we can say.”
Wenger adds “That’s unique.” Two men, who throughout their coaching days were the bitterest of rivals and who spent most of their careers trying to beat Liverpool, are united in admiration. And that is the art of the anthem. To stop you in your tracks and honour the wider context of football as a simulacrum for what it means to belong.
Lola Katz Roberts is the assistant editor of the Fitzdares Times.
