by It is probably not controversial to suggest that almost all fans, if pushed, would recognize the greatest shirt the side has ever had as it appeared somewhere between the mid-70s, when the things getting interesting, and the late 90s, when things started to fall apart. . And it’s a long way to go, for any Welsh fan, unless they’re particularly attached to Billy Meredith’s lace-up collar, it’ll be Admiral ’76.
The boys of ’58 are the best in Wales, because they had the best players and they had the best story. John Charles, the greatest player in the world, was injured for the quarter final. Pelé, 17, about to take the first step on the journey to become Pelé. A case can be made that Wales would have won that game with Charles fit to lead, and so a case can be made that Wales would have won the World Cup, Pelé notwithstanding. It’s not an open and shut situation, if we’re being honest.
Then there is Gareth Bale and company, who have made it to three major tournaments out of four. Much of the praise they received ahead of Euro 2016 dates back to 1958: these were the drought breakers, bringing back the sweet wet kiss of the major tournament to a land of par and thirst. Twice, by some strange stroke of luck, the Welsh team was in possession of one of the best players in the world. Twice he had a pretty decent supporting cast. Twice that made the difference between there and not.
As for the ’76 boys, they did not reach the finals of the Euros. Still, they are the only Welsh team ever to get past a qualifying group. Bale and co made it to the Euros twice as runners-up, needing the play-offs to make Qatar 2022, and the path to 1958 was a turbulent one to get out of the European zone , and then throw it into another game against Israel, who progressed through their qualifiers without playing a game, as opponents did after the Suez crisis and the Arab League boycott. Technically, Wales went to Sweden as the representatives of Asia and Africa.
It’s one of football’s quietest inequities: the best kits aren’t always the best football outfits, and the worst don’t always beat the worst. But while great kits may not always get the exposure they deserve, they resonate in other ways. They collect stories. Especially back then, back in the day, when kits were allowed to hang around season after season, so they related not just to one campaign but to generational cycles, to teams as they moved and to fans followers as they grew. This is the Welsh kit of that George Berry photo. And this is the Welsh team of the most famous stories, perhaps. Hold your Drake. The rumor, the myth, the legend is that Bob Marley wore the Admiral’s ’76 tracksuit on TV.
No one seems to be able to find the actual clip, but that’s a minor inconvenience. Kit’s myths avoid the scientific method and speak directly to the heart. Marley wore a tracksuit (navy) when playing at Battersea Park; Admiral head honcho Bert Patrick once claimed that reggae fans were buying the Welsh range because it was red, green and yellow…you can see how and why that “happened”, even if it didn’t he ever. And in any case, the lack of photographic evidence does not matter.
But what about on the field? Admirals’ outfit failed to qualify for the 1978 World Cup in Argentina: Wales finished bottom of Group 7 after the outfit made the fateful decision to play their final home qualifier, a must-win game against Scotland, at Anfield. Scotland fans poured down in their thousands, Joe Jordan handled the ball and got a penalty for it, lots of misery and woe. They missed out on the eight-team Euro 1980 expansion after a 2-0 win against West Germany – George Berry’s debut.
And then there was ’76. Call it another failure on technical grounds, or give an unexpected and underappreciated success, the general consensus seems to be that Yugoslavia were the better team over two goals, and deserved to progress to the finals in … huh, Yugoslavia. Terry Yorath later blamed himself for missing a penalty in the second leg in Cardiff, a 1-1 draw, but most of the country blamed the referee. No one enjoyed the punishment he inflicted on Yugoslavia, or the goals for Wales he controlled. In fact, the crowd liked it so little that Wales were banned from playing in their own capital.
But watch the film now and it’s the kits that really stand out. Yugoslavia wears a strong and sensible blue, with three stripes running down long sleeves. They look exactly as they should. Wales, however. Major labels. Tight shirts. short sleeves. Those yellow streaks creeping up from the legs and flashing out, sharpening the shoulders, making the big hair bigger. The winning team is firmly anchored in the present; the losing team is losing, yes, but they are bringing an uncertain future together.
This Admiral kit embodies everything to come in kit design, for good and ill: it will expand into every triumph and every failure, every app, every hubristic adventure in colors that aren’t true and shapes that shouldn’t be. Squint and you can see the eighties formation, pulsing, ominous. Squint harder and you can see the nineties, in all their psychedelic horror. Push even harder and you’ll get it, yellow and red and green dancing behind your twitching eyes.
This is an extract from “Admiral: 50 years of the Replica Shirt”. A limited edition is available for pre-order now.
