Loftus Road missing Bowles magic

I thought of Stanley Bowles the other night. Nothing new in that, I often think of Stanley Bowles. While other boys of the same age spent the mid 1970s dreaming of Raquel Welch or your woman from Emmanuelle, I spent an uncommon amount of time daydreaming of Stanley Bowles. I would thank him for being skinny and mouthy. A role model.

Bowles brought Queens Park Rangers to the heart. Liked a bet, liked a smoke, liked a drink, liked a girl - in that order. He could have been from Belfast. Or so we hoped. Better than that Kevin bloody Keegan and his squeaky perm, that's for sure. English get. Oh aye, Bowles was English as well. Scrub that.

So QPR became important. Not just in our hearts, with our eyes we could see that only Liverpool were better than QPR and that only Ray Kennedy could come close to our Stanley. It is a strange thing how those thoughts stay with you, and so leaving Anfield the other night - what Ray Kennedy would give to this Liverpool team - a great heaviness descended with the scoreline QPR 1 Colchester United 4!

It was only the League Cup and last season they went out to Cardiff City in the same round. But QPR 1 Colchester United 4. And that crowd - 4,042. Pitiful. Oh, Stanley, wherefore art thou Stanley.

Stanley was probably at some dog track backing some mut with a bellyful of lager trundling in sixth and not even interested in the rabbit. In the days when half a million pounds was regarded as a lot of spare cash, Bowles reckoned that's what his contribution to turf accountants had been. Losing, not gambling, was Stanley's habit.

Judging by events down Shepherd's Bush way recently, losing has become QPR's habit too. And not just matches, fans. Thankfully they salvaged a point in a 0-0 draw with born again Preston on Saturday and, because of Preston's large travelling support, the crowd at Loftus Road was swollen to 11,092.

It's not enough, but then persuading the locals to part with tens and twenties to observe Chris Kiwomya missing and stumbling is a fiendish task. And to think they once could have seen Iain Dowie for the same money. Makes you think.

It makes you think of where it all went wrong for QPR. At the start of the Premiership, and hence the start of football's economic boom, QPR were the fifth best side in England. Only Manchester United, Aston Villa, Norwich City and Blackburn Rovers finished above Rangers in 1993. Les Ferdinand, then a 24-year-old with goals not injuries, scored 20. Clive Wilson, Ray Wilkins, Alan McDonald, Andy Sinton - Rangers had a solid look about them.

They also had a solid manager, Gerry Francis. But Francis was also a coveted manager because of his work in west London. Tottenham Hotspur eyed him and eventually got him in 1994. Ferdinand went to Newcastle the following year, Sinton - for £2.75 million! - had already departed for Sheffield Wednesday. Of the three, only Ferdinand can say he prospered away from Loftus Road.

Wilkins took over from Francis and QPR went down four years ago. They've stayed down despite, or maybe because of, Stewart Houston and Ray Harford's best efforts. Two years ago next month Francis returned.

"He's the best manager in the world if he doesn't have any money to spend," said a gently forceful QPR father and son couple in the Harp cafe on the Uxbridge Road one Saturday lunchtime this April. "But give Gerry the money and . . ." Oh, how their eyes saddened.

We had arrived in the excellent Harp cafe as on a rare Saturday off this anorak felt like going back to Loftus Road to see how everyone was doing. The answer was not brilliantly. There were over 12,000 there for the visit of the soon-to-be-relegated Swindon Town. QPR won 2-1 and in midfield had a decent young player called Richard Langley. The atmosphere was good, too, mainly due to the hundreds of local schoolchildren allowed in free of charge. Super Dowie was also there but even so, something was missing. I think it was the magic.

Or, by another name, Stanley. Eight years ago The Observer sent me to track Bowles down after his latest court appearance. He was, as they say, of no fixed abode. He didn't have a phone number and apparently had no means of financial support. As you do, we went for a drink. Stan Bowles walked into the bar, sat down and got out a cigarette. Before he could light it, though, someone nipped in and did it for him. Stan didn't blink. It was a regal moment, maybe an Embassy Regal moment. Yes, I think it's the magic they're missing at Loftus Road.