In the late 1980s, English football grounds were often dreary places, plagued by hooliganism and the looming threat of ID card schemes. But amidst this bleak backdrop, one Manchester City fan’s quirky bet with a friend would inadvertently ignite a craze that injected a much-needed dose of color and whimsy into the terraces.
The Bet That Started It All
The story begins with Frank Newton, a diehard Manchester City supporter, visiting his friend Allen Busby’s house. There, Newton spotted an inflatable banana and asked if he could borrow it for a City match. Busby agreed, on the condition that Newton actually follow through and take it to the game.
Newton held up his end of the bargain, bringing the banana to City’s match against Plymouth. The sight of the bright yellow inflatable bobbing among the supporters caused some amusement, but for Newton, it was just the beginning. As he later recalled:
Being the type of person I am, if I start doing something, I’ll continue doing it, and it took on a life of its own after that.
– Frank Newton
From One Banana to a Bunch
Soon, Newton’s solitary banana was joined by many more. Another friend, Mike Clare, personalized the original inflatable with a face, bobble hat, and a City shirt. Then came the moment that sent the fad into overdrive.
With City fans chanting for the introduction of substitute striker Imre Varadi, Newton hoisted his banana aloft. In a moment of spontaneous wit, the chant morphed from “Imre Varadi” to “Imre Banana.” From there, inflatables of all kinds proliferated across Maine Road and away matches, transforming the monochrome stands into a sea of bobbing color.
More Than Just Bananas
While bananas remained the most iconic symbol of the craze, City fans’ creativity knew no bounds. At an away match against West Bromwich Albion, an epic “battle” erupted between a giant inflatable Frankenstein’s monster and a dinosaur, egged on by supporters jabbing them with their bananas. Blow-up dinghies and a massive fried egg only added to the surreal spectacle.
Other clubs’ supporters soon joined in the fun, bringing their own thematically appropriate inflatables. West Ham fans waved blow-up hammers, Grimsby Town followers brandished inflatable haddocks, and even some Manchester United die-hards got cheeky with red devil inflatables.
A Fad Blows Over
As quickly as it began, the inflatable craze started to deflate. Some clubs, like Arsenal, banned the inflatables on the grounds that they obstructed views. Others, like Crystal Palace, raised concerns over potential racist connotations, though Newton insisted this was never the intent.
By the time Manchester City sealed their promotion back to the top flight in 1989, bouncing bananas and other blow-up toys were already fading from the terraces. As Newton reflected, “It ran its course, like all fads do.”
A Memorable Away Day
Yet for those who experienced it firsthand, the inflatable craze left indelible memories. City fans still fondly recall a Boxing Day 1988 away match at Stoke City’s Victoria Ground, where some 12,000 supporters descended in a riotous assortment of costumes and inflatables.
The visiting fans were so numerous and colorful that Stoke allocated them both ends of the ground. Though City slumped to a 3-1 defeat on the pitch, the occasion was, as one fan put it, “the most glorious, eclectic sight I ever saw at a football match.”
An Era of Individuality
In many ways, the inflatable craze was a product of its time and place. As Newton noted, supporting Manchester City in the late ’80s meant going against the grain. In an era before the ubiquity of replica kits, the inflatables allowed fans to express their individuality and bring a touch of the “Madchester” ethos to the terraces.
It also, crucially, reminded the wider world that football could still be joyous and irreverent, even in the face of the game’s darker elements. The hooligan threat may have loomed large, but on match days at Maine Road, the only “brawls” were between bobbing dinosaurs and Frankenstein’s monsters.
An Enduring Legacy
Today, with Manchester City transformed into a global footballing powerhouse, the inflatable craze is a distant but fondly remembered part of the club’s history. Occasional “retro” revivals at the Etihad Stadium, with fans bringing out their vintage bananas, serve as a nod to a more innocent time.
But beyond mere nostalgia, the legacy of Frank Newton’s bet and the craze it spawned is one of resilience, creativity, and the unshakeable wit and spirit of the football fan. In an era when supporters were often demonized and marginalized, the inflatables were a defiant blast of color, a reminder that the true heart of the game remained undimmed.
As Newton himself reflected, “It was very surreal, but then, supporting City in those days often was.” For a brief, brilliant moment in time, the inflatable craze allowed that surreal spirit to float freely – a yellow beacon of hope and humor in a grey footballing landscape.
