Villan of the Week: Gary Barr

Gary Barr was born into a family of Birmingham City supporters but, after watching Villa beat the Blues in 1978, he promptly saw the light, pledged allegiance to the claret and blue, and became a Villan for life. Sensible lad! He’s never wavered since, and has seen his team through highs (champions of Europe!) and lows (relegation), somehow holding on to a strong sense of optimism in the process.

The Starting Eleven

Where were you born, where do you live now, and what do you do for a living?

I was born in Portsmouth, UK, but moved to Kings Heath, then Northfield (both in Birmingham) when I was 6 or 7. I came to the U.S. in 2002 and have been here ever since, having left the rain and grey firmly behind me! I now live in Ridgefield, Connecticut, though am literally in the process of moving to the east coast of Florida—slowly getting warmer and warmer as I age! I’m the chief product officer for a New York-based financial-analytics software company. Who knew after attending Harborne Elementary?

“But that’s the WRONG COLOR BEAR!” cries wee Gary.

How and when did you choose Villa?

My dad was a fervent Birmingham City supporter, as were the family around me—they even gave me a bloody blue-and-white teddy for Christmas in 1969! They took me to as many games at St Andrews as possible when I was a kid. Then, in October 1978, Villa came and beat City 1-0 and my dad was so upset, I decided there and then I had to support the Villa. I always was the black sheep in the family! I was 10 and so started a 35-year love affair—I have seen the ups and the downs and was a season ticket holder for a number of years before I came to the U.S.

What was your happiest moment as a Villa supporter?

Without a doubt, Rotterdam on a spring evening in 1982. I was 14, so I watched the match live (on ITV!) with the great Barry Moore commentating. He uttered those immortal words: “Shaw, Williams, prepared to adventure down the left. There’s a good ball played in for Tony Morley. Oh, it must be! It is! Peter Withe!” and I was on top of the world. Lets not forget the Bayern team we played that night had some of the greatest footballers of that or any time: Augenthaler, Rummenigge, Hoeness, Breitner, Müller, etc., who were all established West German legends. And they got their backsides walloped by a bunch of home-grown Villains—a memory I will always cherish.

What was your most painful moment?

Losing 2-1 at home to Sheffield Wednesday in 1987, a defeat that confirmed relegation. We had gone from European Champions to relegation fodder in less than 5 years. Horrific. And truth be told, we deserved it: that team was young and talked up, but on the field it was a mess. But I always have been an optimist, and some good did come from it : Graham Taylor arrived and it was a swift promotion back to our rightful place in the top tier.

Which team would you most like to see Villa beat (or beat again) this year?

Well we can’t beat them again because we already played them twice—but Chelsea. There is simply nothing, absolutely nothing, nil, nowt, nada about them, they are just the worst form of a football club I have ever had the displeasure to watch over the years. Bottom line: a lack of class.

Who is your favorite player on the current squad?

Fabian Delph. A legend in the making if he can stay fit, stays with the club, and continues to learn and work hard. And I love the fact that a team can potentially be built around him. Let’s hope.

Who is your favorite player of all time?

I have to cheat—I have two that I can’t separate. The first is Paul McGrath. Everyone has already said it but the man was a rock and one of the most gifted footballers I ever saw live. To call him a legend is an understatement. The second is Dennis Mortimer. Hard-working, never grabbed the headlines, but was the dynamo and captain during our greatest years—an inspiration. I don’t think we have had a captain like him since.

What are your favorite sources for Villa news?

Heroes & Villains, Birmingham Mail, Facebook, etc. I try to keep up with news daily.

Rate yourself as a fan. What are your best and worst qualities?

Ha! I’m a top fan, of course! My best qualities, I think, are patience and perspective—I rarely snap to judgement or write things off without trying to understand the bigger picture. Many know I am a big fan of what is going on at Villa these past two years under Paul Lambert, largely because I think when one puts it into perspective, its as exciting a time as many I have seen. Yes, the performances at home have been dire on the whole, but something good is emerging and I am excited to see it play out over the next couple years. My worst quality is that I turn the TV off when games are tight. It drives me nuts watching and I prefer to set the DVR, see the result, and then watch without the stress!

Where do you usually watch games?

On the couch. See my picture above.

What are you usually drinking?

Whiskey—on the couch!

Extra Time

Which non-Villa player, past or present, do you most wish had worn the claret and blue?

Oliver Barr: Future Villa Captain?

There are a few: Lionel Messi (best player in the world for me); Trevor Francis (I know people won’t like that but, as a young kid taken to St. Andrews, I saw him as the first $1m player and he was electric—shame he is such a tw#t these days!); and Bobby Moore (well, who wouldn’t right?). In the future, I want my boy (pictured in his first Villa outfit) to be captain—please god, please!!!!!

Going Farther, Getting Closer to the Game

Or: How are you going to keep the fans down on the farm after they’ve seen Barcelona?

On my way to work this morning (picture me standing at the absolute front of a crowded 148 bus, making its way down Lake Shore Drive toward the sunny skyline of Chicago), reading a few pages of Arthur Hopcraft’s legendary The Football Man, I came across this sentence:

But the process of the running down of small clubs in the Third and Fourth Divisions had already begun, not because players wanted more money but because a more mobile, more amused population was ready and able to travel further for its enjoyment.

This is from the chapter “The Player,” and Hopcraft is writing about the the years 1960–1963, when, after years of being treated like chattel by the club owners, English players finally won the right to negotiate their own contracts and to be paid commensurately with their talents. It’s a dramatic story, and one that has been repeated at different times in different sports. But what really resonated with me, at this moment, was the idea of more mobile fans who are willing to travel farther for their football, given the promise of more entertaining games.

At the time, that must have meant that, despite your family’s allegiance to, say, fourth-division Whatsit Wanderers, who play at a small ground in your village, rising wages and ease of travel meant that you might consider an hour’s journey to see a bigger club in an actual stadium. And, having seen the game played at a higher level, the Whatsits’ regular fixtures begin to lose some of their allure.

Fast forward 50 years, to the era of ultimate mobility. Many Villans of my acquaintance make an annual pilgrimage back to Brum to catch a game—some travel more than once. (An upcoming Villan of the Week is this very day flying from San Diego to B6 for the Cardiff City fixture, may he bring us many goals.) You would think that all this travel, the ability to choose, would make us fickle. And yet. While many of has have second teams, or take in local games for the atmosphere, and truly voracious fans pick a team in La Liga, Serie A, the Bundesliga, and even MLS, I’ve never heard of someone who, say, stopped following Villa and chose another team because it was more convenient. It’s unthinkable.

So increased mobility allows us to choose any team, but once chosen, that team stays ours.

And think about TV, the ultimate in mobility. Now we can watch almost any game played anywhere. (Although China is still mostly out of reach; my younger son, who is learning Chinese at school, regularly complains about not being able to watch Chinese games.) Last night I watched parts of two Champions League games I had recorded, played in Spain and Germany, games played at the absolute highest levels. Before the advent of televised games, such a wealth of viewing was unthinkable.

Of course, I wonder whether this embarrassment of riches ultimately diminishes the game in some way. I love that I’m able to watch the very best players in the world, of course, but having seen their exploits, the players on my team pale in comparison. How can a local hero live up to Lionel Messi? And, when we can watch as many games in a week as our wives, children, jobs, and hemorrhoids will allow us to, isn’t each moment of genius a tiny bit devalued? (Not that I have hemorrhoids; I’m just saying there’s a limit to how much one can sit on one’s arse.) I don’t have the best memory to begin with, but I’m guessing that we all have a harder time remembering details, now that we can watch countless games in countless ways each year. When your local team was literally the only game in town, surely each moment mattered more, was remembered more.

Once I started following Villa, I found myself that much less interested in my local team, the Chicago Fire. The Fire aren’t as good as Villa, certainly most days, and they definitely don’t play equally challenging teams. So, in theory, if I spent last night watching Barcelona’s mesmerizing tika-taka, how can I stand to watch Villa hoofing the ball forward every time it reaches our keeper on Saturday? Well, in theory, I couldn’t, but that’s one of the mysteries of life, because, as much as I also enjoy watching the glamour teams in Champions League, I always come back to Villa. I chose them, or they chose me, and we’re stuck with each other, no matter the distance.