31/32 WORLD CUP TEAMS COMPLETED
THIS IS ENGLAND
England is quite the extraordinary place. It takes up a very small amount of land mass on earth and shares an island with other nations. It birthed one of the biggest empires the world has ever seen. It also birthed the planet's current lingua fraca, English. It also claims football as its own national sport. The English are known for both their pompous customs and their self-deprecation. It isn't really a country in the sense that it is only a region of the United Kingdom. Yet it holds the dominant population in that kingdom (ruled by a queen). The English are still the defacto rulers of the United Kingdom through sheer numbers. Yet England itself has no parliament. Their common law is shared with Wales and to a lesser extent with Scotland and to an even lesser extent with Northern Ireland. (I'm ignoring overseas territories in the interests of brevity.) The European Parliament, the IMF, the United Nations, the Olympic Committee and the Eurovision Song Contest all have one thing in common. They don't have any member called England. But FIFA does.
Politics and sport should never be mixed it has been said, most likely by a naive idealist. The international sporting arena has always been a political hotbed. Football games are adorned with flags, symbols and crests. They are attended by heads of state and armed forces. Football games have started wars. In England much of the football commentary and analysis is drenched in the language of warfare.
THE RULES CONTROL THE FUN
International football permits an unbridled sense of nationalism not otherwise commonly found in the English part of the United Kingdom. (Even writing about this geographical set up is tricky.) If you are not from this part of the world let me break down the situation with regards to the English and their footballing neighbours. (Massive generalisation alert)
The English believe that they created the game of football. (They certainly put some rules on it. This is the case for most of the English's worst and finest achievements, think The Penal Laws and Newton's Laws). They believe that football's home is in England. They concede that they may not have the best technical footballers but they believe that the best way to play is with full-blooded courage and heart. Up and at them lads. Like most FIFA members of this population size they have a sneaking suspicion they might just win each tournament before it begins but there is a sort of superstition that prevents them from being openly confident. English people twist themselves in tangles of self-deprecation and apathy lamenting on England's guaranteed failure. Until they win their first game that is, in which case the pendulum swings to over-confidence. Then football is coming home.
The United Kingdom's nearest neighbour is my own country, Ireland. (Although FIFA refers to us as the Republic of Ireland for more complicated reasons I won't bother you with. I told you it was political.) But within the borders of the United Kingdom are three other footballing nations, Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Sports commentators use the word nation fairly loosely here and "nation" is not a synonym for "country" in this part of the world. So on the British Isles (which is a contested but commonly used geographic term for those European islands west of France,) we have five different FIFA members. Five nations,(sorry Cornwall) but only two countries;The United Kingdom of Britain and Northern Ireland and Ireland.
These neighbours of England have not been big fans of the English national football in the past. You could delve into some 800 years of colonial English expansion for a more detailed answer regarding the animosity but suffice it to say that there has been some differences of opinion on political matters between the peoples of those rainy islands over the centuries.
During this World Cup the Irish sporting public were for the first time seriously weighing up whether or not to support our English brethren. As we approached the centenary of our independence (or partial independence) we were anxious to show how we had matured as a country. For some, maturity meant supporting our near neighbours with whom we share so much culture. For others it was out of the question. The most entertaining piece among many on the subject was "The Least We Owe England Is To Keep On Hating" by Ken Early in the Irish Times https://www.irishtimes.com/sport/soccer/international/ken-early-the-least-we-owe-england-is-to-keep-on-hating-to-the-end-1.3556869
MY UNREQUITED HATE
My rambling preamble with all its brackets and clauses and history will give you an idea of the complex emotions a neighbour of the English might have when watching them play their national sports.
It felt a little eerie sitting in pub full of England supporters for their round of 16 game against Colombia. At times I felt like a clandestine voyuer there for the schadenfreude and at others I felt like a traitor to Ireland but most often I felt like a fraud. I've lived in Bangkok for 9 years and my English friends are among my closest and dearest friends. What would be the best way to tell them that I hate them?
The George's Cross and the Union Jack are powerful negative symbols in my country. They represent oppression and domination. The national anthem of the United Kingdom is God Save The Queen. (England the nation that isn't a country has no official national anthem.) The anthem taunts its defeated member nations and urges the country to crush rebellious Scots. The English/British/UKish (German blooded) royal family has had a direct impact in the affairs of my country, mostly stealing land, for at least five centuries. I find it hard to sing along.
On a personal level I want my friends to be happy. I want to share in their feelings in the same way I did with the Brazilians and the Japanese, without the historical baggage dragging at me. I had to settle for a rollercoaster ride of allegiance. I urged England on when they had the ball. I urged Colombia on when they had the ball, silently. When the game finished 1-1 and the penalties began a surprising feeling occurred. The distinct emotional punch of a penalty shoot out made it much easier to side with my friends. It made me realise where my true allegiances lie; with people.
I'm waiting for the right moment to tell them that I hate them.
REAL MATURE
England won that penalty shoot out and made an admirable march to the semi-finals of the World Cup for the first time in 28 years. I hope England get to the final next time. I really do. And that Ireland beats them there.
*Join me in my quest. It started here https://steemit.com/sport/@highselfesteem/i-m-going-to-watch-the-world-cup-with-a-fan-from-every-country-in-bangkok-or-sleep-trying and will continue for the duration of the World Cup.
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