Blog: Where's Steve When We Need Him?

BOBBY Despotovski. Bernd Stange. Nick Tana. Who is the missing link that could fix Glory’s problems?

They could all lay claim to the title but here’s a lesser known link that has gone missing from the purple chain, an occurrence that has led to the FFA stealing Perth’s footballing bicycle.

You’ll have to have frequented the old Perth Oval to remember the great Steve Armstrong – a man who, in the annals of Perth Glory, represents the passion, excitement and buzz surrounding the club at its peak.

Armstrong was as big a part of that as any of the players or coaches. He helped make the Perth Glory of his time unique in the world of Australian sport. And he was the antithesis of the FFA’s one-size-fits-all branding and its misguided beliefs about the match-day experience.

Armstrong’s songs – borrowed, original and/or altered – were key factors in the club connecting with its fans in a way that Pink’s overused hits or the repetitive song off the A-League ads could never do. Heck, if Pink changed her stage name to ‘Purple’ she still couldn’t help the club connect with the disenfranchised sporting public of WA and former Glory fans.

‘Bound For Glory’, ‘The Boys Are Back In Town’ and the apparently deceased ‘Glory, Glory Perth Glory’: who could forget those classics?

I know Armstrong captured the imagination of the masses of kids on the hill because I was one of them. Initially converted to the beautiful game as a teenager, it was Armstrong’s contribution on match day which played a significant role in getting me back through the Perth Oval gates.

I saw the 4-0 win over Newcastle United during my first live football experience as a bonus. The whole package was something I’d never seen at Subiaco Oval, the WACA Ground or East Fremantle Oval.

I’d be as surprised as David Seaman on the end of a mistimed Ronaldinho free-kick if “Spike” the overgrown orange head has the same effect on the children and youth of today as Armstrong did back then.

When Armstrong stopped performing before home games, a part of the club suffered a horrible demise, with ‘Glory Idol’ the most mind-blowingly irritating and uninspiring symptom of Perth Oval’s ‘dying atmosphere’ disease.

Most of all, Armstrong ironically represents a time when the football was a real focus at Perth Oval. The pre-match ritual was all about football and the team, a build-up to the game which enhanced the effect the game itself, and the club, had on the people.

It was never a mindless mascot dancing to a boring repeat of the latest generic American ‘hit’.

And while Armstrong’s booming voice, unbridled enthusiasm and unique accent dominated the airwaves on the hill and in the makeshift stands, none of it made the fans’ ears bleed like the subwoofer-esque PA system does these days.

To borrow and slightly alter a line from the famous theme song of yesteryear, in the spirit of the great man: “You’ll hear the crowd a roaring and you’ll know that we are one, when Steve Armstrong marches on.”