Steady, fan. Ben Stokes's side could be approaching the third Ashes Test now 2-0 down, but not all among supporters is fazed. There is one group ideally equipped for these circumstances, a dedicated unit who are arguably the ultimate experts in defeat. Have your dreams been shattered? Are you crushed beneath the weight of unmet expectation? Then it's time, rally to the Barmy Army.
Even now, their early arrivals are gathering in Adelaide, the city where they were established 30 years ago. England's best-known – and by headcount most raucous – away supporters will be dreaming of an celebratory against-all-odds victory, like the one they saw on that historic tour. But whatever happens on the pitch, off it the celebrations will be protracted and hearty.
"England's performance been extremely disappointing," he admits, "yet we're the blessed group, because we're on holiday. It's likely harder for the people at home."
Despite Bazball's nuclear implosion can't shake this band of seasoned campaigners. They've been enduring England's innings meltdowns since earlier than a new generation took the field. They've seen more fielding errors than key pacemen have career scalps. Their touring history as an Ashes supporters' club stands at: contested many, lost often, won seldom. If anyone understand how to survive a whitewash, they are the original supporters.
Certainly, for viewers at home, the Barmy Army appear to be everywhere this series. Host broadcasters at the grounds sometimes appear more focused on the Barmies than in their own fans. Broadcasters regularly use them as entertainment-focused lead-in to a day's play. Remarkably the athletes on the field are heralding them, as a supporter portraying a monarch starting a rendition of a patriotic song.
It's possible that the Barmy Army's combination of longevity and omnipresence has now overshadowed quite how stunning their rise of tourist following has been. Thirty years in the past a handful travelling fans were united in wry self-deprecation at England's woeful away record. Now their legacy is so synonymous with the England cricket that their colourful, "unconventional" crowd is virtually an accepted institution. They've certainly come a far since the humble beginnings.
One original still remembers the buoyant hope of the opening day of that 1994-95 tour. With the Australians building a solid score, he initiated a six-person conga in the stands, winding up the Australian supporters with a tune about convicts. "Home supporters jeered at us, then threw plastic cups – the kind of thing that we still get today," he remembers. "However when we got back our small band of England followers had all participated."
After a loss, England's tour continued to struggle. Those backing the team around the country must have been barmy indeed. As the tour reached the later Tests their crowd had grown to the hundreds. Those on the field, however, genuinely enjoyed their support at the grounds. When England secured a notable triumph, a senior player summoned a Barmy Army figure up to the team balcony to lead the revelry. This connection remains.
Additionally, the large crowds the Barmy Army can muster are as appealing to the cricket authorities as they are to host grounds. For this series alone, their official tours will accommodate a significant contingent of paying travellers. A variety of activities are planned for the three-decade milestone.
This is, ultimately, an entity born of cricketing passion and entrepreneurial spirit. The logic they mark their founding to a specific Test is because that was when they started producing merchandise. The first small batch was so instantly popular – and profitable – that it sparked a lasting enterprise. From that point, the original members have helped turn a group of mates into an major tour operator.
That carries its own challenges, especially at a time when sport is trying to lose some of its boisterous image. The Barmy Army's leadership are keen to point out that a sizable minority of their travelling fans are now women. As norms evolve, the chants have had to get more family-friendly, too. "Comments that you'd say 30 years ago you cannot utter today, and that's as it should be," says a director. "It's not possible to tell someone how to behave individually, but we will not promote songs that are insulting."
Could the Barmy Army mellow naturally? The mean age of fans is now nearing middle age – mirroring the pioneers, who have been pleased to withdraw from the management. One founder is experiencing this tour purely as a supporter – leaving newer staff to run the Barmy Army's social media. "You forget how hard it used to be to coordinate with each other," he chuckles. "Our method was all by shouting – 'everyone's going to the pub!'"
Turning to this Ashes series, the faint hope of a historic comeback still lingers, which is very mid-90s indeed. Should England do lose in Adelaide … well, future travels awaits.