England 1 USA 1…Meh

So, England eked out a joyless one-one draw with the USA in their opening game of the World Cup.  What did we learn from this match, other than the fact that only English goalies make such ridiculous howlers on a frequent basis?  I don’t know about you, but what I learned is that I wasn’t a bit bothered about the result.

I’m not a nationalistic person by nature, and my interest in the England team has waned over recent years, so I wasn’t exactly shocked that I wasn’t bothered.  I do usually have a vague interest in the World Cup matches, though, so I was at least mildly surprised that I didn’t care in the least.  I watched the match in the pub and I began to feel slightly embarrassed when I realised that I was the only person not reacting to the action.  I had to actually stop myself laughing when Robert Green threw the ball into the goal; not because I wanted England to lose, I think I was just struck by the absurdity of the situation, rather than being upset by conceding a goal.

I don’t expect any one to necessarily agree with or even understand my position (although, it would be nice to know I’m not alone).  It’s definitely a personal point of view that I wouldn’t try and convince anybody else to concur with.  I am kind of curious as to why I think like this, though.  I think in the main it’s because, although I can understand being proud of where you come from, I don’t feel the need to prove myself for this thing called England.  Also, on a much baser level, I find it increasingly difficult to forget my staunch Liverpool allegiances and cheer for players that play for rival clubs.  I know it’s a bit pathetic, but I am still a football fan.

Apart from those reasons, I think I struggle to relate to the concept of “England” – it somehow doesn’t feel specific enough for me to get behind.  If there was a North West England team then perhaps I’d feel more connected.  Likewise, if we had a British team then I’d feel more inclined to get behind it.  Somehow, “England” seems to fall in the middle and I don’t quite know what it means.  Maybe I’m just thinking about it too much.

The final reason that I can’t warm to the national side is because it seems symptomatic of the whole commercialisation of everything.  The country seems to be caught in an ever escalating spiral of buying stuff to prove that you are celebrating the thing that you’re only celebrating because you can buy stuff related to it.  The worst offender in this category is Halloween, which seems to have become increasingly popular solely because you can buy stuff with pumpkins on it.  How long before we totally forget the true meaning of Christmas and it becomes purely about how many tacky lights you can fit on your lawn?

Anyway.   I should probably go now, as I suspect that I may be coming across as a bit of a killjoy.  I won’t regale you with my views on how unbearable the country will become if England were actually to win the bloody thing.  I’ll just wish the lads good luck and hope they do well – although I’ll probably do that in quite a half-hearted way.