England

I knew as soon as it went into extra time that it would end in penalties and I couldn't bear to watch them, so I left. I mean, for pity's sake, I could barely bear to watch them in the Germany Argentina game a few days before, so England taking penalties...no, no, no...not happening. I also knew, as chips are chips, penalties mean we lose. So I couldn't bear to watch it...just got in my car and drove home. Julia and I had been teaching Colour for Design at Crafty-Ness and I'd been watching the game on Vanessa's little TV she has upstairs. Never mind. It's only a game. Sad though.

But something else has been on my mind and I've been thinking about this for two days now...whether to blog it. However I just need to get this off my chest.

In one way I am relieved the football is over. Why? Because I am so completely and utterly fed up of my country being maligned wherever I go. And those who do it laughably seem to think it's perfectly okay for them to do so. I have had people chat to me in my local supermarket and then, upon hearing my accent, say "Oh I'd better not let my friends catch me talking to you...I'll be in trouble." All said in jest...but it had an element of truth behind it and left me feeling fairly stunned. I've had people ranting on about their English neighbours putting up Crosses of St. George (putting up their own country's flag...what are they thinking?). I've been in a school where the half-hour video they've shown for Welsh lesson was an historical account of how the medieval English laws were "stupid" whereas the Welsh ones were much more sensible and fair. I've had to listen to people blatantly going out of their way to support any team in the football (replace this word with rugby or any other sport you care to mention) who might have a good chance of beating England. I've had to listen to the local news programme talk about a soldier who was "forced" ("forced!!!" I ask you!!) to watch England with the other English squaddies he was stationed with (he wasn't forced by the way...but why use such emotive language? Husband and I were laughing our heads off at the news item...how completely ridiculous to even use such a word!). I've walked behind 9 and 10 year old boys chatting who've been ecstatic because another country has beaten England (why, at 9 years old do they hate England so much?). I've heard of teenager (a friend of a friend at church) who has "EnglandIsCrap" as her email address, and can give no good reason as to why she hates the country so much. And when I turned on the radio on the way home from Crafty-Ness on Saturday to see if, indeed, the penalties had panned out as I had expected, the first thing I heard was a Scottish listener on the phone to the Radio 1 DJ, completely jumping for joy because England had been beaten. I turned it off in disgust...not because I was upset about England losing but because everyone seemed to think that her whooping with joy was okay. That was okay to air, because it was only England after all. But...what if these people were talking about Jews? Or blacks? Everyone would throw their hands up in horror. The video in the school would never have been made, let alone shown in lessons. Law courts might even be involved.

And it has the effect of making me feel either (a) paranoid that people are always thinking such things and when someone is rude or unkind or thoughtless that it is, in fact, to do with my nationality, or (b) more and more and more patriotic because one's back is up (which then intensifies the anti-English feeling and so it goes on).

It's racism and I hate it. Whoever does it to whom.

Right. Done moaning.

Oh...and who do I want to win now? France (vous m'avez entendu, les francaises? LOL)