By Fleet Street Fox

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Politics, some say, is showbusiness for ugly people. But it’s more accurate to think of it as a form of Wrestlemania: very dramatic, mostly faked, and participants generally end up being less socially-acceptable than Mickey Rourke. And next week is going to see a zinger of a match, with a super showdown at the Labour Party Conference in Liverpool. In the red corner, the King of the North, the Mayor with the Hair, the Great Socialist, Andy Burnham. And in the meh corner, it’s Stumbling Starmer, The Man In Borrowed Specs, the Prime Minister. The PM has lost his tag team partner, and Red Ange isn’t expected to show her face. So the prequel to the big face-off will be two women with sensible brown bobs competing to be more northern than the other one, and scrap the child benefit cap first. All they can hope to win is a non-job, but we will be able to see who gets the biggest roar, and from that judge who the audience will back in the main event. But maybe we needn’t bother. The polls, the newspapers, the general mood of the country and even a Tory-supporting, Tunbridge Wells-based pensioner of my acquaintance are frothing at the mouth for the King With The Zing to snatch the crown that’s been slipping from Starmer’s head ever since he put it on. But just because the crowd want someone, anyone, other than Starmer does not mean they’ll get what they’re hoping for. After all, Starmer before he got the top job promised enough to win that same crowd convincingly in a leadership contest, to remodel the party’s structure, change its rules, and get his supporters into positions of power. Unpopularity as a premier is not all it would take to shift him. Burnham is super-popular, in the way only someone who isn’t prime minister yet always is. Think Boris, think Blair, and then think of what happened after they got the job. You’d rather have Rourke over for tea, wouldn’t you, and he can’t be trusted near refrigerators. In the week preceding conference, the Mayor of Greater Manchester has given not one but two interviews saying he doesn’t want to abandon his city, but will do whatever’s asked of him, and made it clear that it’s really up to the membership to recall him from his Lancashire plough, at which point he might – might – reluctantly saddle up and ride south to do battle with the Westminster blob, renationalise critical industry, establish a National Care Service and deliver justice at the point of a sword honed by electoral popularity. Which all sounds marvellously Shakespearean, and would add hugely to the gaiety of the nation, except that a) Burnham enjoys North Korean-style voter support in his homelands but is untested elsewhere and b) he’ll need to fight a by-election before he can leave home. The person who decides whether he’s allowed to do that lives in Downing Street and has a name that rhymes with Beer Farmer. The tale of the tapes between these two is enlightening, but not definitive. Burnham: father a telephone engineer, wife he met at university, long career in politics, common touch and deft handling of big moments including Hillsborough, and the Manchester Arena bombing. More chequered Westminster history, first ignoring and then helping to expose the infected blood scandal, and repeatedly accused by social media trolls of ignoring Rochdale grooming gangs, which despite being untrue will no doubt be the stick Nigel Farage tries to beat him with. Political base is deep and wide. Seems to remind a lot of mums of an illicit teacher crush. Starmer: father a tool maker, in case you missed it. Wife he met in law, long career as a barrister, centrist dad vibe, has done well on big moments that cannot be delegated – cracking down on the Southport riots, doing trade deals with Trump, and building a Coalition of the Sort of Willing to help Ukraine. Has repeatedly fluffed internal scandals and party management, has little in common with his party, and has disappointed even his enemies. Political base is broad but shallow, and the people who used to secretly fancy him have all gone a bit quiet. Whoever is PM, both men would face a housing crisis, a borrowing crisis, an immigration crisis, a Nigel Farage crisis, a Trump perma-crisis, a Putin military crisis, and the freshly-sharpened quills of Fleet Street’s finest. Taxation, the NHS, research, industry, cyberattacks, sewage pollution, potholes, dustbins and public sector strikes are waiting in the wings. The polls are fragile, the nation febrile, and Farage is watching it all like a cat watching a bird feeder. Party conference is where Labour’s leaders are made and unmade. Blair had his Clause IV moment, Kinnock told them to go home and prepare for government, Corbyn saw donors flee and activists scrap. They provide the moments that define the party and its direction, and Starmer has always ensured Burnham is nowhere near the main event. This year that may change. Starmer fumbled and then was forced to introduce a Hillsborough Law criminalising official cover-ups, after immense pressure from victims’ families as well as Burnham and his supporters. There will be a victory lap for that, and campaigners are gearing up for more amendments to tighten up the bill in ways the government might not like as it passes through Parliament. Starmer’s star turn on the conference stage will need to have more glitter on it than can be found in a protester’s pocket: he will need to show vision, prove that character can win more hearts and minds than charisma, and offering a bid wodge of hope to the entire nation. That’s a lot to ask of the human equivalent of a beige Volvo, especially when his top team is shedding advisers like a boxer spitting teeth. Meanwhile Burnham has to…. do nothing. Look good. Be present. Smile knowingly and not answer THAT question. Show loyalty to the PM, but demonstrate an ability, should it be needed, to do a much better job. And that seems like something even Mickey Rourke could manage. It will be much harder to persuade Labour’s ruling council, filled with Starmer appointees, to let him stand as an MP. It will take a miracle to convince Starmer that his project will fail, and that both the party and the country feel better about Burnham being in charge. Perhaps a few days of that message being rammed home to every Cabinet minister will do the trick; and perhaps the crowd isn’t so convinced about this as the gossip would have us believe. So next week, as the Labour faithful gather in Liverpool, remember this: it’s not just about policy, or speeches, or even the canapés and karaoke. The knives are out, and they are being sharpened, but it’s not clear yet whose back they’ll end up in. For Starmer, it’s make or break, because if he fails now he’ll be out by Christmas. For the rest of us, it’s time to grab the popcorn. This is where the real fun begins.