It’s over.
A manager too stubborn to get the best from a team of overpaid celebrities, a worthy performance from the U.S.A. that denied us top spot in our group and, ultimately, a criminally bad ruling from a linesman that stopped our miraculous revival dead have yet again extinguished the hopes and dreams of a once proud nation.
The morning after England’s exit from the World Cup at the hands of a youthfully exciting German team, most of the flags were already gone. The few St. George’s Crosses that still hung forlornly in the breathless morning sunshine, too bright and cheerful for a national day of mourning, were a bitter reminder of what could have been.
That ultimate sign of national unity, flying the flag, has never sat comfortably in modern-day England. Perhaps it speaks too strongly of an empire lost, or simply of those who are too fervent in their patriotism – those with xenophobic and racist political views. While millions across the globe will happily paint themselves green to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, few in England even know where in the calendar St. George’s Day falls. Fewer still mark its passage.
But one thing can still bring out our national colors and make our hearts beat in unison: sport, and above all, football.
Some will say, “It’s only a game.” There is no phrase more offensive or insulting that I could use in this column, whether censored or not. Football is not a game, it is far more important than that.
Games are something you enjoy. Being an English football fan is not an enjoyable experience. We have an abusive relationship with the beautiful sport. Each time it seems she could not hurt us any worse she drags us back in and cuts us deeper.
The shadow of 1966, the last and only time we won the World Cup, looms ever darker and the frustration and pressure get worse and worse with each passing year. I don’t know if anyone, anywhere, can really empathize with what it means to be English.
England invented football, has arguably the best (and most popular) league in the World and lives and breathes the game. Our team always includes players that are world-class for their clubs, and our managers are generally, at club-level at least, some of the best.
I know there are big American sports teams that have had long periods of failure, but even their struggles pale in comparison. Canada, maybe, can understand more than most, having endured 46 years of Olympic failure in its own sport of ice hockey, but even then it had already won the title six times, and since 2002 has added two more golds to that.
As a student in the USA, I often complain of the lack of interest or understanding by Americans of the world’s most popular game. I am back home right now so I don’t know how the World Cup has gone down in the States, or whether people have really got behind their team and whether the highs and lows of the tournament have made national headlines.
It seems ironic now that I wrote a column last quarter vainly trying to convince people that draws (aka ties) are an important and even exciting part of world sport.
England’s draws against the U.S. and Algeria almost sent us home, while the Americans’ similar results against us and Slovenia launched it into a position where passage to the next round was within its grasp, and ultimately made the difference that rightly secured it top spot from group C. Though the loss against Ghana in the next game ended a potential run to the semifinals, this was the first time the U.S. had ever won its group and was an important step for what is increasingly becoming a successful and consistent country at the international level.
While fans in the U.S. should feel proud of their players, in England there is a very different mood. An inquest will now be held, and fans are already calling for the head of our manager, Fabio Capello. Entering the tournament ranked among the favorites and in a group that, on paper at least, was easily winnable, we put in our worst-ever performance in the finals. It is actually some consolation to have been beaten by a giant like Germany when the minnow-like Slovenia came uncomfortably close to knocking us out.
After all of this, it’s hard not to wonder if maybe I’m wrong.
The U.S. brought more fans than anyone else to the World Cup, put in a solid performance, and I suspect that those who got caught up in the excitement, though disappointed now, will get over the loss far quicker than my own countrymen.
American soccer fans can enjoy watching their team in a way English football fans can’t comprehend, and their players can play with freedom, not overburdened with an expectation that inevitably crushes them flat.
Perhaps it’s America that really “gets” football.