I’m in a strange position right now. I haven’t cared much for the England national football team for a number of years now – but I haven’t been one to claim I didn’t care about their fortunes. Mainly because I clearly did.
I was annoyed with them constantly, I hated how none of them cared about playing for the country and how celebrations on scoring would be arrogant over ecstatic. They pissed me off. But there was still some slight love for the team of ’96 resonating in my face. And even some from the ’90 squad. I still supported England.
But this time around I’d had enough. The team was too full of pricks, the national attitude too ridiculous for me to even consider getting caught up in it. I wouldn’t even bother going out of my way to watch England’s games this year – not after I wasted so much time two years ago putting myself through that shite.
But then it turned out I wasn’t alone in this. Others felt the same. Even the papers didn’t really bother getting on board the whole thing, not even trying to claim “we” would be able to do anything of any real worth in the Euros.
And that’s where it went strange. Because I got confused. Because if everyone doesn’t care about England, then I’m thinking the same as the people. And I don’t want to think the same as the people, because I hate the people.
And so it is that I think I might actually be Big Into England in Euro 2012, all because the rest of you unpatriotic twats hate the three lions and Roy’s wonderboys. COME ON LADS EN GER LAAAND EN GER LAAAAND ENG ER LAAAAAAND.