In the midst of the World Cup, with a daily diet of football and football chat, it probably sucks to not like the game. I can understand, indeed empathise with, people in that position. I don’t watch Strictly or Game of Thrones and I never got into Line of Duty, though I may well well have liked it if I had. When everyone else on social media or at work or at family gatherings is talking at length about something that is of no interest to you, it can be a bit excluding, even bewildering.
But here’s the thing: why do people who don’t like football in particular feel compelled to announce it to the world? I don’t spend my time complaining when people talk about or get excited by any of the above. I could name a hundred things that are popular that hold no interest for me – and I could probably explain why if you asked me. But I don’t feel the need to go around moaning about every conversation I’m (by choice) not part of.
The anti-football crew are odd. They’re odd in my eyes partly because they don’t like football, but that’s subjective. It’s their desire to broadcast their dislike at every opportunity that confounds me.
It comes in a number of forms. There’s the straight up, honest ‘bloody football!’ moans reflecting resentment at the game’s ubiquity in the news and in the national psyche – which may indeed be overblown, but does reflect something that seems to matter to an awful lot of people. There’s the ‘overpaid millionaires’ and ‘injury fakers’ whinges, which some football fans might also sympathise with – though if an activity generates millions because it is so popular (like, say, pop music), it is probably better that the cash ends up in the hands of the people with the talent rather than the often dubious people who run it. There’s the tired ‘oh, is there a kick-ball game on?’ quips, which reflect a remarkable banality for people trying to imply they operate on a higher plane. Then there’s the anti-England jibes – either from people who object to nationalism/jingoism or, perhaps more commonly, from those who just don’t want the national team to succeed because those who like the game and support England might be happy.
All those people who never watch football yet feel qualified to pontificate on how rubbish their national team is! In fairness, they’re not Brazil, Germany or Italy in terms of titles won, but few teams are. England are one of only a handful of nations to ever taste international success and they more often than not make the latter stages of tournaments – in their last two, they were finalists and semi-finalists. The chances of actually winning a World Cup are slim, but having a team that is at least among the contenders should be seen as a good thing. Terry Venables once said people tend to think England are the best team in the world or the worst, when in fact they are neither. But for the haters, the idea of them being over-hyped, overpaid and utterly useless is presumably a great stick to try to beat the national game – and those who like it – with.
In recent years, this has been exemplified by what seems a wilful misunderstanding of the clever Three Lions tune – which has become as ubiquitous during international tournaments as Slade at Christmas. As David Baddiel, who co-wrote and sang it, has explained a million times, it’s a song about losing. It reflects the hope over expectation experience of following the England team perfectly, with self-deprecating wit and pathos. Of course, “it’s coming home” has taken on a different meaning to the original one – about Euro 96 taking place in England, where association football was invented. It’s become a chorus of hope, even delusion at times – but you can only miss the irony and cleverness of the song if you haven’t really listened to it. The salty “football’s not coming home, England are” again misses the point: most fans just enjoy the journey and the brief flurries of hope.
Of course, this year’s World Cup being staged in Qatar – an appalling decision by FIFA – has given the naysayers a new weapon. England apparently should not have gone, even though everyone else did. Their players should even have accepted being booked and banned from games by wearing a rainbow armband after FIFA warned of the consequences. I absolutely recognise that for some people, including some fans, a World Cup in Qatar was unacceptable and something they did not want to engage in. But for many of those complaining, a World Cup anywhere is the problem – and this is just a convenient attack line against players who have often shown themselves to have a social conscience. The same people piled on at the start of Covid, asking Premier League footballers to do more – though this was never asked of pop or film stars. And when the players actually did what they could to help – led by the admirable Marcus Rashford and Jordan Henderson – that particular avenue of moaning quietly died.
Whether it’s bashing the national team or complaining about the huge popularity of the world’s most popular sport, the moaners are out in full force again. Guys, calm down. Watch Netflix and chill, read a book, talk about something else. If you don’t like something that other people do, that’s fine. You don’t need to keep telling us, you don’t need to wear your disapproval like some weird badge of honour. Just do what I do when Strictly Come Dancing comes on: let the people who like it enjoy it.
Rory writes 