There was a football game on telly last night; England, my team, was in the final of the European Cup against Italy. A tricky proposition and what turned out to be a bridge too far unfortunately. We lost on penalties, you can google the full game i’m sure if you need to. But make sure you get the BBC coverage rather than ITV, shockingly low rent.

Problem is the final was in London at Wembley and it was at 8pm, on a Sunday, a school night. Its probably something to do with overseas television contracts so as we can sell the so called “beautiful game” globally. This is how things are and so to give overseas viewers a glimpse into our quaint little island is a massive opportunity for our tourism, our hospitality, goods and services. This would be a fine platform which to showcase our ancient history and buildings, our tea shops, restaurants, bars and nightclubs, our immense cultural heritage our music our art and writers, and our friendliness towards others in our massively rich multicultural population.

But then Witherspoons opened at noon and before long our cultural identity was plastered across social media:

Come to Britain where grown men bend over and stick lighted flares up their own arses,

Come to Britain where grown men soaked in pissy rotten lager take all their clothes off and dance on top of Bus stops.

Come to Britain where major squares in London host impromptu shout-athons where grown men throw traffic cones in the air and bottles at buildings.

Come to Britain where grown men shout “Fuck off you Cunt” loudly and run after people who don’t look like themselves.

Come to Britain where grown meant storm into a national stadium and terrorise families and children who do pay for their tickets.

Come to Britain, or avoid it like the plague, which ironically you will catch due to the government’s seemingly uncontrolled descent into herd immunity, the lazy governments way of controlling the virus. The Fuck it attitude so they can concentrate on piling their money high while the rest of us fight amongst ourselves. The real enemy are those in charge who stand up for the people who wish to Boo the footballers for taking the knee, taking a stand against racism, telling them its fine to Boo, Patel and Johnson specifically you should be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. You and your awful party who stand beside and behind you chuckling to each other as they offer another covid contract to a friend, relative.

This government has sought to drive a division so deep into our population to create a mistrust between communities so as we rip ourselves apart, damn the consequences, its almost like a bastardised form of monetised darwinism, in so far as the rich get richer at the expense of the poor, who will probably die anyway. But then who will work in the mills?

In the lead up to the game, remember that, yesterday thugs stormed in to Wembley stadium, ticketless, and one in scattered and took whatever seats they wanted, scowling, Stella fuelled bastards terrorising the rightful seat owners who cowered in the stairways too afraid to approach these ogres. Criminals and Lager anarchists shouting at people playing the beautiful game with skin a different colour from themselves. Abhorrent men (mostly). When England (spoiler alert) lost the game on penalties the three lads who missed their penalties happened to be black, the enormity of the situation, the weight of the country on their shoulders, the pressure they faced, whatever the reason, they missed. But they were heroes; braver than any of these lager swilling bully cowards, so young and playing the game they loved for us, to make the country feel better about itself despite Covid, despite Brexit, despite the simmering nationalism. These boys, because they were black, were viciously attacked on social media in the aftermath of the game, I can not imagine how they feel because I am a middle aged white man, but i’d say it must really really hurt.

So with the eyes of the world upon us, the wretched abuse these guys are receiving from a group of hate peddlars has made me feel ashamed of my country folk, not of my team, who have done us so proud, but of a sizeable minority of violent nationalists who seem to thrive on racial hatred.

I don’t know about you, but if I spend too much time bathing in solar rays and have a few too many beers I don’t feel the urge to throw cones or bottles around, even less shout and insult passers by and even less so attack people who don’t look like myself. Try as I might, and I’ve been thinking about this all day, I really can’t understand the dangerous idiots who do this. It seems the fires of nationalism have been stoked by the government and Brexit and this is a real worry for the future generations. It needs to be stamped on and squashed like the cockroach it is.

I just hope that this event broadcast globally hasn’t damaged our reputation permanently, but I feel it probably has.