Mark Marqusee in today’s Guardian on being English but neutral:
It’s not that we neutrals are aloof and non-partisan. Far from it. We tend to pick a selection of favourites, based on any number of criteria, ranging from the whimsical and arbitrary to the philosophical and political. How many Arsenal players do they have? Have I been there on holiday? Do I like their strip? Do I like their style of play? You could go through the whole cup simply backing the underdog in every match and thoroughly enjoying the experience.
To which a riposte in the comments is…
It seems that you’re avoiding the possibility of the biggest joy - seeing your team win the Cup - in order to avoid the likely disappointment. Isn’t that the same attitude that says you shouldn’t apply for the job, because you probably wouldn’t get it, or you shouldn’t ask the girl out, because she’d probably say no? I wonder, isn’t that the route to the biggest disappointment of all - of, years in the future, spending your time murmuring ‘shoulda, woulda, coulda…’?
Neither of these quite captures why I prefer to be a neutral in a World Cup, despite being English. It’s not the fear of failure - any supporter of club football in a regular season gets their fair share of failure anyway, and knows how to deal with it. Nor is it because I’m whimsical or forever loving the underdog - most underdogs play the long ball, defensively or dirtily and are not worth it.
It’s the culture of small-mindedness that surrounds the England team, however, that repels me so. A sense of grievance or scepticism of dodgy foreign refs (just don’t mention Graham Poll) or diving players (not that the England new captain is entirely whiter than white) permeates our media and our view of the international game. England never lose fair and square - indeed, it’s never England’s fault, it can always be blamed on penalties, or a red card, or an opposition player, or the ref, but never England.
And as if this parochialism isn’t bad enough, it’s imbued with a sense of overwhelmingly misplaced confidence, coupled with a sense of entitlement to glory - “44 years of hurt”, with the implied expectation that it will be ended this time. When the inevitable disappointment does come, the English fall from grace will first provoke anger, then denial, and finaly sullen resentment of the more successful. Every tournament, without fail, the vicious circle continues, and this will be no exception.
