It was not great to wake up and hear about the latest instances of disorder in France. Even the fact that disorder was isolated to a minority of idiots, no one is seriously doubting that last night was an English problem. And it’s not fair. Goodness knows how many England fans are in France and nearly all of them are there for all the right reasons. Why should they find their reputation tainted by a group of people who can’t hold their beer, want to chant obscenities and, for some, have a desire to fight?
A Welsh supporter on BBC Radio Five Live summed things up rather well when he said, and I paraphrase, if you want to avoid trouble then usually you can. That was the experience of my youth when following Bristol Rovers. I never had the inclination to involve myself in football hooliganism and so I stood in parts of the ground where it never occurred and drank in pubs that were relatively off the beaten track where the hooligans didn’t go. And if there was a punch-up outside the ground, I’d cross the road or go a different way. Usually, I had a choice.
I suspect it was much the same in Lille last night. Thousands of people out for a drink and a sing-song, a few hundred, maybe more, who were out for a drink, to sing some offensive songs and have a fight. I’m such a wuss, I’d have probably gone to a backstreet bar, if I could find one, with good ale and maybe a glass of red. This may also be because I would probably at least 30 years older than the average English fan.
If I went abroad to see England play, that would be my main aim. I completely understand the idea of going abroad on a bus, as have many lads from my village, touring the country, rocking up at bars and fan zones. That’s a shared experience, possibly never to be forgotten. If you don’t too pissed, that is. But then, I have never much cared for going to the pub to watch a game when I could watch the same game from the comfort of my armchair.
I do not read the red top newspapers, like the Sun and the Mail, which condemn unreservedly all England fans, as if they were all psychopathic hooligans. I read the Guardian, the last resort for soggy liberals, and it has been fair and balanced about England fans and I watch and listen to the BBC whose coverage has never been hysterical. The reason the tabloids tarnish the name of England fans is simple: it sells papers. And it was so ironic to see a group of boisterous England fans on Sky News last night, waving their copies of the Sun, the paper that hates them more than anyone else.
Today’s game between England and Wales? There’s a game? I thought it was all about fans fighting? Oh come on. Have a few beers, lads, and respect the hosts. Respect the national anthems, even if the English one is unfeasibly awful and the Welsh one emotional and stirring and enjoy England’s 2-1 win.
I can’t say I won’t gloat after we win today. I’ve heard enough about Gareth Bleeding Bale to last a lifetime and more than enough about the Welsh passion we apparently don’t have. See? I’m getting edgy, I’m getting lairy. I won’t fight if we lose – which we won’t (he says, with absolutely no optimism) – because I do sulking far better.
Is there a fight? I’ll hold your coat.
