Wednesday 4 July 2018

Is He Even Really English?

There are certain things that are traditionally associated with the English. A certain stiff-upper-lippedness, a preponderance for tutting and an apology being some sort of default opening statement (when, oftentimes, apology is certainly not intended by the words “I’m sorry but..”). There a few things that are indelibly associated with those of an English persuasion which completely pass me by; a fact that has sometimes lead those of a non-English descent to ponder, “Are you even really English?” Allow me to elucidate….

Football
Football is an ever present part of English life. Even in the off-season, there is still usually some form of football to be watched. Case in point as I type this, we are currently in the midst of the quadrannual all-consuming parade of football that is the World Cup (even as a non-football type, you can't fail to be aware of this). It is a time when even those who typically shun the great game seem to be drawn into the ludicrous levels of fervour that surround it. Even then, however, I still just don’t get it. I have tried at various points over the years to muster some enthusiasm for it, what with coming from a whole family of football fanatics but it just doesn’t grab me. Here’s what I see when I’m watching football:-

Men run back and forth kicking roundy thing.
Some men kick it into the bit where it’s supposed to be more than the other men do.
Well done, men. End.

It’s just an utterly foreign thing to me. Not my cup of tea. Oh, and speaking of which…

Drinking Tea
Horrible stuff. It’s bitter leaves in boiling hot water. And people drink it in summer too, when it’s really hot. I’m definitely not buying the whole “drinking a hot drink when it’s hot actually cools you down, don’t you know” thing. If ice, cold water and fans don’t cool me down when it’s hot, what chance has boiling bloody water got??

If you need to add milk, sugar and a biscuit in order to make it even remotely palatable then that doesn’t strike me as something inherently tasty.

Queueing
No, don’t be soft, of course I bloody well queue. I’m not some sort of mannerless heathen. Do be sensible, there's a good chap.




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