England: A Nation Divided As Unity Prevails

It was a tournament that carried remarkable encouragement. The streets in every county — from Durham to Devon, Shropshire to Suffolk — littered with fans buoyant and inebriated, dreaming of the unthinkable. How could all of the hysteria that had steadily brewed be so brutally smashed over the course of a couple of hours?

Ah, that’s right. England were playing.

46 days have passed since that crushing defeat to Roberto Mancini’s Azzuri, and still it serves as a sobering reminder of this country’s dark side. Violence, racism, doltishness. We carry a reputation - not a good one - and never was it portrayed more vividly than on that infamous Sunday evening.

A sea of youths force their way through the barriers before clashing needlessly with fans already inside. Bottles, chairs and lighters lobbed in all directions of the compass in avenues and pubs that lurk in the stadium’s shadows. This is not the true essence of football, but it is deeply concerning. It should have been the match itself that houses the talking points but no, not here, not ever, it seems, when England fans flock. There they were in their masses, belting please don’t take me home from the deepest part of the lungs. Rush forward in time to the ugly pictures at the turnstiles, where the children quiver, tugging at their parents hand, pleading, please, please take me home.

To many younger than ourselves this would be the tournament in which they first fell in love with the sport. Eyes fixated on television screens, everyone remembers that feeling. England rampant, a final beckons. But what will this be remembered for? The English tragedy on the pitch or in the concourses? Such was the feeling of trepidation, building up inside those across all acres of the nation as they prayed for football to finally come home. It didn’t. Now, the turmoil outside the holy Wembley gates wasn't the only headline. Step forward into the limelight: The racist side of this so-called revered land.

Throughout the pandemic, footballers had taken the knee prior to every kickoff to signal their support for an end to racial inequality. There was no hidden meaning lying beneath the surface. No reason to object. So, of course, the usual dollop of bigots took to Twitter, Instagram and all else to hail racist abuse at a 19-year-old for failing to kick a ball past an artificial white line. From the moment that ball left Bukayo Saka’s boot, the egregious comments had begun to plaster every ounce of social media.

So there it was. England were out of the Euros but that was far from the worst story to emerge from north-west London that day. It was bad. It was ugly. It was England. A nation which fell flat on its face having been riding high amongst the euphoric clouds over the early Summer months. The scars will remain embedded in time, but hope was hovering over a looming horizon. The country will have to wait another year yet for redemption on the turf, but that’s no biggie. The stars that glistened throughout the tournament will return stronger, hungrier and — above all else — exultant to be wearing the white.

Now welcome to the stage: The classy England. It is rather ludicrous to assume every football fan that bears three lions on their shirts are racist gammons (although recent history suggests there’s probably a lot more than first meets the eye, but anyhow). Take Brentford, for example. On the opening night of the fresh Premier League season, as the floodlights beamed down upon the shiny Brentford Community Stadium, Saka entered the fray in the 59th-minute with his Arsenal side (unsurprisingly) a goal down. He may not have changed the game (or the outcome, for that matter), but his entrance onto the field helped pour the icy water over much of the raging fire that is racism.

The noise was deafening. From all corners of the arena, fans rose in an instant to applaud this young man who had stared the devil in the face, and won. “It was wonderful at Tottenham, it’s wonderful again tonight”. The words of Martin Tyler as Saka found his place on the field with much of the 16,479 in attendance still on their feet.

And then take Brighton. Not going in any particular alphabetical order, but the response to those who knelt (and stood) before the fixture with Watford this past Saturday was heartening. Nothing but applause, it’s what you want to see. It’s what it should be.

Such contrasts over the past month and a half, there will forever be those who wish to tarnish the beautiful game. The mindless rampage will always find itself on the front page of the paper, but the unity of sport will forever triumph over the evil that hopes to extirpate it.