Three Lions On A Shirt

Last week, in Canada, I had a chat with our American coach driver, a very nice chap called Larry from Seattle. The conversation went something like this:

PM: So, Larry, are you looking forward to June 12th?

Larry: Why? What’s happening on June 12th?

PM: It’s the big game.

Larry: What big game?

PM: Larry, the World Cup starts on June 11th.

Larry: Oh, you mean the soccer World Cup?

PM: Yes.

Larry: So what’s happening on June 12th?

PM: The big game.

Larry: Oh – Are England playing?

PM: Yes … against …?

Larry: Who?

PM: Against the USA!!!

Larry: Oh! I didn’t know America had qualified.

PM: WHAT?????

Larry simply didn’t know that the USA had qualified for World Cup and that they had been drawn in the same group as England. And he wasn’t a special case by any means. The majority of Americans are simply not interested in “soccer” and have little or no idea that their nation are competing in the world’s greatest sporting event. Most Americans are preoccupied with baseball, American football and basketball.

The conversation continued:

PM: So will you be watching the game?

Larry: No.

I was amazed. Larry understood the basic rules of football (or “soccer” as Americans call it) but had no interest in the sport whatsoever. He went on to explain that although many Americans play “soccer”, the other three major sports are simply too popular.

He had heard of David Beckham though.

Unlike America, England and most other countries are in the throes of ecstasy counting down the seconds until the big kick off on June 11th.

In England, the cross of St George is being attached to cars; pubs across the country are being decorated with huge flags and signs urging punters to watch every single game on large high definition screens while supping vast quantities of ale; work places are preparing for mass exoduses every day so that fans can get home or to the pub to watch as many games as possible.

Mrs PM has resigned herself to becoming a football widow for the next four weeks as I prepare to watch as many games as possible, altering my schedules to accommodate the games.

Some weeks ago, Mrs PM arranged something for June 12th, unaware that this was the day of England’s first game. Her plan was for us to visit friends in Congleton so that we could go for a meal in the town centre and perhaps enjoy one or two beers in a pub. The conversation went something like this:

Mrs PM: We’re going to Congleton on June 12th. It will be nice to see M and S and go for a meal and a few drinks.

PM: June 12th? The World Cup starts on June 11th. You can’t make any plans during the World Cup.

Mrs PM: But it’s the only date that the four of us can make.

PM: Let me look at the fixture list.

Several seconds pass …

PM: NO WAY!!!! England are playing the USA. Absolutely no way!! I want to be watching the game with beer and not in some restaurant having a meal. Have you checked with M? He will want to watch the game too.

Mrs PM: He’s a rugby fan.

PM: He is also a football fan.

Mrs PM: I’ll call S.

PM: I’ll bet S hasn’t checked with M. He will feel the same.

Two minutes later …

Mrs PM: OK – the plan is for us to go to Congleton and watch the England game at their house.

PM: Have they got a big telly?

Mrs PM: Yes

PM: And will there be beer?

Mrs PM: Yes.

PM: And can we drive there in between games?

Mrs PM: Yes.

PM: Good – we’ll go.

Mrs PM: I HATE football!!!!!

Similar situations will occur all over England. Unfortunately, however, in Scotland it will be somewhat different.

Scotland have failed to qualify for the World Cup and, rather than supporting their more successful and more illustrious neighbours, they will be supporting A.B.E. i.e. Anybody But England.

There is a fierce rivalry between England and Scotland in terms of football that is a little difficult to explain. When I say “rivalry”, what I really mean is a “jealous hatred of England by bitter Scottish fans”.

Why do most Scots hate England? Well I guess “Braveheart” might have had something to do with it, with our rather nasty historic rivalry but I think the real reason is much simpler to explain.

England have won the World Cup and Scotland haven’t.

And the Scots are as jealous as hell.

Until recently, I had a little bit of a soft spot for Scotland. As a child I remember watching Scotland’s exploits in the World Cup and I actually supported their efforts. Scotland, as I saw it, were part of the United Kingdom and therefore worthy of my support behind England.

Sadly, most Scottish fans do not think this way and absolutely detest England, choosing to support whoever England are playing. You can guarantee that on Saturday June 12th, 90% of Scots will become Americans for the day, making up for the fact that 90% of Americans will not be interested. Then on June 18th, the Scots will become honorary Algerians when Algeria play England – and so on.

It’s sad really. I have tried to understand it by talking to a wee Scottish friend of mine who, like his compatriots, thinks this way. I call him Hawkeye (from “Hawkeye the Noo”), the reason being that he calls me Dilbert.

Hawkeye hates England so much that he has actually turned me against Scotland. As I said earlier, I used to cheer the Scots (unless they were playing England) but Hawkeye has simply turned me against his country. And believe me, he never misses a chance to throw salt in the wounds.

Here’s an example:

During the 2002 World Cup in South Korea and Japan, England were playing Brazil in the quarter finals. England took the lead through Michael Owen. I was tempted to send a text message to Hawkeye, asking him what he thought of the goal – but I thought better of it. I foolishly believed that my wee Scottish chum would secretly be wanting England to progress to the semi finals.

Sadly I was wrong – so very wrong.

Brazil equalised and then scored a bizarre winner as Ronaldinho took a chance and scored directly from a free kick. The final whistle went with Brazil winning 2-1, dumping England out of the cup. Within two seconds of the referee removing the whistle from his mouth, my mobile phone chirped and I read a text message from my Scottish friend that simply said something along the lines of:

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

I was gutted and I almost – almost – texted back with a message full of anger and expletives.

I think that was the turning point when I decided that I would no longer support Scotland in any way, shape or form. Scotland deserved nothing but contempt and I would now support A.B.S. - Anybody But Scotland.

In the intervening eight years, I have mellowed somewhat and secretly wish the Scottish football team well despite the hatred and vitriol that comes from this bitter wee Scot (although I will never tell him that).

I aim to get my revenge hopefully, because if England do win the World Cup I will never, ever, ever, ever let him forget it. I will sing to him constantly:

It’s Coming Home, It’s Coming Home, It’s Coming – Football’s Coming Home.

Getting back to June 12th, for the benefit of any Americans who have stumbled on this post, I implore you to take an interest in the game on June 12th and to support your country against the mighty England. I think that now is the time to embrace football and make the following name changes:

(1) Rename “Soccer” to “Football”
(2) Rename “American Football” to “Padded Rugby” (because that is effectively what it is).

By all means, watch baseball etc. but find time in your schedule to watch football too. It’s a fantastic game worthy of your interests.

To any Scots reading this post, please try to put the bitterness behind you. England are worthy of your support – just because your football team wins nothing it doesn’t mean that your destructive jealousy should get the better of you. By supporting England, at least you might have some moments of pleasure.

And finally, to the other nations in the World Cup, I extend my best wishes (unless you are Germany, Portugal or Argentina – and you know why). I even want Australia to beat the Germans on June 13th (though I hope that England beat Australia later in the unlikely event that Australia can qualify).

I’ll leave you with a couple of England anthems, which I dedicate to my wee Scottish friend, Hawkeye, and I really hope that his good lady wife, a true football supporting English woman, will carry out her threat to paint the flag of St George on his roof, and hang England bunting in every single room of his house.







Come on England!!!!!!!

We’re gonna score one more than you!!

Another British Post

Napoleon once famously said of England:

England is a nation of shopkeepers

Presumably the French dwarf was annoyed because we kicked his bottom at the battle of Waterloo in 1815.

Well, I think its time to tell you all a little more about Britain and I will start by categorically denying Napoleon’s claim – I am not definitely not a shopkeeper. To counter this, I’ve decided to relate a few more facts about my home country.

Monarchy

Britain has a monarchy; we are ruled by Queen Delia of Norwich, a woman who writes books about food. When she barks we all jump – this is known as the “Delia effect”. She once wrote a book called “How To Cook” and in that tome, she suggested that we all go and buy eggs. I still recall the fateful day when Mrs PM read the book – I returned home from work to find the fridge full of eggs.

“What’s for tea?” I said.

“Eggs,” she replied. “Delia says so.”

Now I have to say that I cannot say anything bad about Queen Delia. She loves her people. Here she is giving encouragement to her subjects:



Now, apparently she wasn't drunk; royalty don't get drunk do they?

Government

The government of Britain is an example of a unique form of politics: idiocracy.

Our most recent Prime Ministers have been:

Margaret Thatcher – also know as “Atilla the Hen”. She was also called “The Iron Lady”, because she liked to iron clothes. She frequently did this in the House of Commons while insulting the opposition. Mrs Thatcher (or “Thatch” as she was affectionately known) single-handedly destroyed industry in England, because she didn’t like seeing pictures of dirty miners on her television screen. Such was her ego that she considered herself to be two people. When her first grand child was born, she wobbled up to the camera and said: We are a grandmother.” Now I’m sure that Atilla considered this to be a profound statement, but in reality it was because she was in fact a man - here is proof:



Following her years of dictatorship, Atilla was replaced by a robot called John Major, otherwise known as “The Grey Man”. This man was so dull that he quite literally sent everybody to sleep as soon as he opened his mouth. John Major should actually have been an accountant; how he managed to accidentally become Prime Minister is anybody’s guess. I would post a link showing a typical John Major speech but I fear you would immediately fall asleep. Here he is:

After Major bored us all to coma, we were subjected to His Royal Tonyness, Tony Blair, also known as “Tony Bliar”. Unlike his predecessor, Tony has a smile so huge that crows often get stuck in his teeth. In fact, Tony’s teeth are bigger than his head (and that is big enough):

Tony was great; Tony was cool; Tony was in a rock band. Tony can sing. He even did a duet with George W Bush:

After His Royal Tonyness came the dour Gordon Brown, our current Prime Minister, a man who has more lives than a cat. Gordon the Gopher has led the UK into recession. He has a fake smile that can scare even the bravest warrior. When I first saw him smile, I fled from the room, screaming for my Mum. Those of a nervous disposition, please DO NOT click the following (no matter how tempted you are):

He is famous for saying “No more boom and bust”. I presume he wasn’t talking about the economy when he blurted out these ill-chosen words; I guess he was talking about his expanding waistline.

Patron Saints

The patron saint of England is St George, who is also the patron saint of binge-drinkers. On one particularly boozy night, St George hallucinated and thought he saw a dragon. He promptly slayed the imaginary beast with his wooden spoon and somehow managed to convince a whole nation that he had done so.

The patron saint of Ireland is St Patrick, who is also the patron saint of Guinness drinkers. Every year, on March 17th, the whole of Great Britain goes out and gets drunk, including Queen Delia of Norwich. The video earlier in the post was filmed on March 17th.

The patron saint of Scotland is St Andrew, who is also the patron saint of monsters. Every St Andrews day, the Loch Ness Monster, or “Nessie” to her friends, crawls out of Loch Ness and shares a haggis and a pint of “heavy” with the locals.

The patron saint of Wales is St David, who is also the patron saint of rugby. Every Saturday thousands of Welshmen sing their hearts out at rugby union games throughout the country and are generally happy (mainly because they don’t have to play English teams).

Major Cities

London is the capital of England. It was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Londinium” which is Latin for “speakers of cockney-rhyming slang”. Romans found it difficult to understand the language, which hasn’t changed in centuries. I mean, do you know what the following sentence means?

“Would you Adam and Eve it? I was having my barnet cut and I had a butchers through the window when I saw this geezer fall down the apple and pears.”

It means:

“Would you believe it? I was having a haircut and looked out of the window just in time to see a man fall down the stairs.”

People from London are called cockneys and think that Great Britain is contained with the boundaries of Greater London. Everyone else is “from the Norf”. Here's a typical cockney:

Birmingham is the second city in England. It was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Brummigumus”, which is Latin for “speakers of a poor pseudo Black Country accent”. Again Roman’s found it difficult to understand the language in this city – it is like Black Country accent – only far less classy. Birmingham people think that their city is at the centre of the universe. In reality, the centre of the universe is just a few miles up the road, in the Black Country, at a little place called Walsall.

Manchester is the real capital of England. It was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Mamucium”, which means “City of Paradise”. Julius Caesar declared “Mamucium” to be the true capital of the Roman Empire and decreed that only the greatest human beings in Britain would be allowed in the city; something that still stands today. Manchester is home to the crème de la crème of British citizenship; only the most intelligent and beautiful people in Great Britain are allowed within the city limits. I sneaked in twenty four years ago, through the sewage system.

In Scotland, there are two major cities; Edinburgh and Glasgow. Edinburgh was discovered by Mel Gibson who promptly went to war with the English and then retreated to Edinburgh castle. Glasgow was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Glaswegia”, which is Latin for “wearers of kilts”. Nobody outside Glasgow can understand a Glaswegian. Listen to this:



Does it make sense to you? No, it doesn't make sense to me either.

In Wales, we have Cardiff. Cardiff was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Armus Parkus”, which is Latin for “Home of Welsh Rugby”. Cardiff is a fabulous city and I have always had a magnificent time there. On Saturday nights, the city is full of Welsh people singing in close harmony as they consume Brains Bitter. I was of course instantly recognised as an Englishman because when I sing, cats throw themselves under cars.

In Northern Ireland we have Belfast, which was discovered by the Romans. They named the city “Belfast”, which is Latin for “Home of Georgie Best”. George Best hailed from there and is one of the greatest players ever to grace the English football league. I wish George Best had been English.

Anyway, that’s enough for now. More may follow in later posts. In the meantime, if you have any questions about Great Britain, please fell free to ask me.

I may even tell you the truth next time ...