World Cup

Thursday 10:05 p.m.
You are supposed to treat everyone the same. I think it's called equanimity. I tried to support the Rangers in their bid to win a European trophy a couple of years ago. I managed until the final when I saw the huns flood into Manchester with the Union Jacks streaming out of their motors, and hoped there were plenty of riot police waiting for them. Unfortunately, not enough as it turned out.

Flicking through the channels after getting back from the allotment this evening, what did I find on BBC Four but the Bobby Moore Story. Fung sake! I told my line manager, who is a very, very nice man from Chester, that I would try to support the Little Englanders until the semi-finals, that I was friendly with a lot of English people, and that they should have won it more than once. Dearie me. It's the fact that the "British" media keep harking back to 1966 that sticks in everyone's craw up here.

1966 was only twenty one years after the end of the Second World War. I do remember sitting on my da's knee and asking him what he did in the war. But since about 1975 the Second World War has always seemed like science fiction to me. Also, it's in black and white, mostly. Why would anyone want to kill all the jews? While fighting a war against almost everybody as well. I do find it hard to get my head round that.

So, according to the Bobby Moore Story, the Russian referee who walked over to the Turkish linesman, with whom he couldn't converse, to discuss whether or not the ball had gone over the line for the third English goal had had between thirty and forty members of his family killed by the Germans in the Second World War. The English player who had the best view said the ball didn't go over the line. With a referee like that ... I remember being really happy when the Gerries equalised with almost the last kick of the ball in the regulation ninety minutes. It should have gone straight to a penalty shoot out.

I think every time the World Cup comes round, in Scotland we should get to see the WHOLE game when Scotland drubbed them, took the piss, rubbed their noses in it, etc., because all we get is the 1966 stuff and not the game which made us all so happy in 1967.

So maybe it's time the Little Englanders won it again so we don't have to keep looking at this 1966 crap. Also, they've got an Italian manager. He'll have paid the referee.