Friday, 11 September 2009
Let's get silly
But this time we are going, and they reckon it might be different. England look good right now, even allowing for our unhappy knack of overpromising. Fabio Capello is sniffy, terrifying and brilliant, and he's on our side. The media like him, and he doesn't care. The players respect him, and he'd expect no less. He's our greatest asset and he can't get injured.
All this is good. Personally, I'm excited about us all blowing our tops for the next 10 months, stewing and chewing and teamsheeting ourselves into a right old lather. The best thing about talking about football is that nobody really has a clue about any of it. It's completely circular - you can witter on for days about formations and combinations and SWP vs Lennon, because nobody really knows and when it comes down to it we forget the lot in a flash. In 90 little minutes the truth we never saw coming will catch us clean on the nose, and it'll all suddenly seem very obvious and hollow again. That's what it's like - being an England fan is an absurd cycle of extremes, a screaming, boozy kneeslide from false promise to cold truth and back again, seldom tasting the bit between.
I'm not suggesting we take a rational approach to supporting England - balancing the odds would be much less fun. Like everyone else, I'll hope and chinstroke and get wildly indignant about starting Emile Heskey, and it'll be great. But by the time those BBC montages that make real life seem all dreary and grayscale are rolling in July, I reckon I'll feel silly again.