An Irishman supporting England in 2010

You might as well say that de Valera was a Protestant or that Brian ‘O Driscoll eats quiche. As an Irishman, admitting that you are going to support England in the World Cup is about as heretical as it gets. It’s about as unthinkable as the Pope suggesting that paedophile priests actually be prosecuted.

But that’s what I’m doing. I’m supporting England.

Ok, there’s a caveat. I’m assuming that my no.1 choice, South Africa, won’t do a South Korea and reach the semi-finals. Plus, I’ve got the luxury of being an objective observer, freed of the gut-wrenching tension of following Ireland, thanks to the favourite plaything of Thierry Henry (his left hand).

In Ireland the idea of supporting England in a World Cup is about as palatable as a grapefruit the morning after a skinful of Guinness. We’re a nation that rates victory over England as possibly more important than ever actually winning a tournament. It’s 1916 all over again every time we take the field.

Listen, there’s a lot to be said for it. As a nation we really did take it in the eye from the English for centuries. When we did finally break free of their oppression it was not with an epic injury-time winner that transformed everything. It was rather with an ongoing mid-table struggle that eventually led to stability and a place in Europe. We lacked that decisive moment of victory, that result that said we had won and they had lost. Which is why it feels so good when we turn them over at Croker, Lansdowne Road or, even better, Twickenham.

Ireland vs England at Croke Park in 2007

Beating England feels good. It’s part of the Irish DNA. But then comes the really odd part. You’ve just watched Ireland beat England at Lansdowne Road and you’re celebrating with a pint. You’ve discussed the game and you feel euphoric, but within half an hour you’re arguing about the Man U/ Liverpool game the following Sunday.

Most Irishmen supported an English club team before they supported the Republic of Ireland. Most Irishmen will put their lives on hold to watch their English teams play in a cup final. Most Irishmen have sons who wear English club shirts.

It’s a peculiar scenario but not peculiar to Ireland. In Cape Town the city comes to a virtual standstill when Man Utd play Liverpool. The difference is that these people will support England when Bafana Bafana get knocked out of World Cup 2010.

Man Utd fans in Cape Town

Not so in Ireland. There it’ll be ABE (Anyone But England) and all the better if another ‘Hand of God’ goal knocks them out. Did any of you Irish notice how much support we got from English fans over the Thierry Henry incident ? Do any of you remember the glee we felt when Maradona did the same to England in 1986 ?

Supporting English clubs but hating the English presents a bit of a dilemma. Faced with the choice of going to watch Shamrock Rovers on a cold and dark Sunday afternoon or tuning in to Arsenal vs Chelsea in the comfort of your living room, I know what I’d do. But there are Irish people who have made the difficult choice and I salute them. My nephews, Eoin & Nick Brennan, used to be Blackburn supporters but they have now publicly denounced their support of English club football and currently travel the length and breadth of the country supporting Shelbourne in the Irish second division. Out of the frying pan I would say !

Eoin, Nick & some of their mates practice for the Berlin Gay Pride March.

But at least these two have the integrity to back up their sentiments with action. When they go to Croke Park to support Ireland you sense that they deserve to be there. They’ve earned the right to hope that England get beaten by USA on 12 June in Rustenburg.

I admire them. I don’t admire the Irishmen who would have donned their Man Utd shirts on 22 May and prayed that Wayne Rooney  deliver them a 4^th European Cup, yet 3 weeks later  prayed that the same Rooney gets sent off as England are humiliated by Algeria.

Like most Irishmen I’ve grown up on English club football. My weekends can still be made or broken by the Leeds result. English football has inspired and transfixed me for 33 years. That’s a debt I need to repay.

The reason I fell in love with English football !

Which is why I fervently hope that if Aaron Mokoena can’t pick up the World Cup at Soccer City on 11 July, the man who does so will be Rio Ferdinand.

Note

We seem to be destined to follow England on our World Cup road trip. We have England vs Algeria in Cape Town on 18 June. Should England top their group we have their Round of 16 match in Rustenburg on 26 June. If they win their Quarter Final we then have them in Cape Town for the semi-final on 6 July. Then on to Soccer City in Soweto for the Final on 11 July.

City Of Goals

If Cape Town is the laid back sophisticate, beautiful to look at but not always easy to connect with, then Joburg is the brash energetic one, a bit rough around the edges, but big on personality and brimming with sex appeal.

Joburg is a strange city. Aesthetically it’s a disaster. Mine dumps instead of mountains, a couple of manky streams running through it, and sprawling suburbs with about as much character as a FIFA official explaining the World Cup ticketing system. Joburg is the largest city in the world not situated on a river, lake or coastline. This is a gold rush town. That’s the only reason it exists.

A river or coastline would have been quite handy to transport the gold but Joburg had to make do with building roads…..a lot of them. Nobody likes an empty road, so the next step was to build houses on those roads…..a lot of them. Joburg is only 124 years old, a teenager in city terms. A teenager raised on a diet of slap chips and Coke if the sprawl is anything to go by.

When your looks are that bad you have no choice but to rely on your personality. For a city, that means your people. Joburg is the only city I know whose charm emanates purely from its citizens. To make a place like Joburg seem charming they must be pretty special people.

They are. This is a place where your background and your school matter less than what you have to say around the braai. It’s a place where people look you in the eye when they do business, no hard feelings, no regrets. But it’s also a place where you can meet someone for the first time on a Thursday and be lifelong friends by Saturday.

Joburgers are sharp, they’re resourceful, they’re funny and they’re warm….and they’ve built the most magnificent stadium I’ve ever seen.

Primedia Broadcasting staff

On Monday I was lucky enough to visit Soccer City along with the rest of my colleagues at Primedia Broadcasting. Soccer City is the site of 8 games including the final, the opening game and a couple of snorters like Brazil vs Ivory Coast and Germany vs Ghana.

Inside the dressing rooms

Soccer City is so Joburg! Distinctly rough around the edges. Not just the neighbourhood in which it sits but also the approaches, the concourse and the car parks, all of which are some way off the finished article. But Soccer City is a true Joburger. If you can get past the jagged façade and into the heart you’ll be blown away.

The scale of this stadium is magnificent. 94 000 seats within spitting distance of the action, all housed inside an African Pot, a calabash set in a ‘pit of fire’ (the surrounding perimeter gate). Standing in the centre of the pitch what strikes you most is the way the sound is contained within the pot and amplified. Bafana Bafana defender Matthew Booth knew what he was talking about when he said he didn’t envy any team taking on 90 000 vuvuzelas at Soccer City.

John Robbie, David O' Sullivan and Aki Anastasiou

John Robbie, our morning show host on Talk Radio 702 and rugby pundit, told me that the Soccer City pitch has been adapted to accommodate rugby. We all know that the Springboks are virtually unbeatable at Ellis Park with 60 000 heaving, pulsing Joburgers roaring them on. God help the All Blacks when they have 94 000 Springbok supporters baying in the cauldron of the African Pot.

But that’s for another time. For now, God help the Mexicans when they enter the calabash at 4pm on Fri 11^th June. Welcome to Joburg, amigos.

Watch the video: The only Irishman likely to score a goal in 2010 at the World Cup Final venue