Wednesday 30 June 2010

Not in My Name

This post has been delayed quite significantly by the occurrence of World Cup games every flipping evening. Apologies. I couldn't not watch, though. I love football.

I don't love England (the football team), though. This World Cup has been the first one where I haven't supported the Three Lions (excepting those times when they failed to qualify at all). In fact, I not only haven't supported them, I haven't even watched them play, which has on occasion meant going quite considerably out of my way. My decision not to join my countrymen in supporting “our boys” has gone down pretty poorly with my friends, too. Going for a kip during England's opening match against the USA was a particularly unpopular move.

I've got my reasons, though, by jove. These are they:

1. Loathsome people – especially in the team. I can't go from detesting the very sight of John Terry and Ashley Cole on a weekly basis to cheering for them for a month every two years. It feels weird, two-faced and conviction-less (the last of which I certainly am not).

It's not just the players, though, if I'm honest. It's (some of) the fans, too. They're loud, obnoxious, boorish and sun-burnt. I'm only one of those things, I fondly believe. A large and vocal element of them are basically horrible. I don't want to be associated with them and they put me off. Some people might think that's snobbery, but I don't really agree. Surely I'm allowed to find some people, well, just unpleasant? I wouldn't support the estate agent industry, either, were I in it. This metaphor is confusing and I want out.

2. Patriotism and the last refuge of the scoundrel – isn't actually the best quote on the subject. That award goes to George Bernard Shaw for “patriotism is the belief your country is superior to all other countries because you were born in it”. It's patent nonsense and I don't feel much/any of it. It's almost totally arbitrary where you're born and I don't think the UK's such a screaming big deal anyway. Not for me.

3. Solidarity with my ma – who is only the most prominent (to me) reminder that not everyone likes being invaded by football every time an international tournament rolls around. It's not just internationals, too. The Premiership has grown to monstrous proportions and consumes ever more of our lives, football lover or not. These people are English too, aren't they?

Really, supporting anything is about caring for and relating to it. I'm not fussed in the slightest whether England ever manage to string passes together and I just don't feel part of the whole thing. It's not them, it's me. What the devil's wrong with that?