Things that irritate about this city - 3

There are some grey clouds in the sky. I'd better put my umbrella up.

Football, again

Having said that, nothing will ever epitomise how brilliant tournament football can be more than Antonio Cassini's goal for Italy against Bulgaria. When he scored the winner in injury time he must have thought he'd put Italy through. His elated run to the Italian bench concluded with the news that the other game was over at 2-2 and Italy could only go out. He slumped in despair. From joy to agony in a couple of seconds: what a game this can be.

Did you see the game last night?

This is a testing time for me. The England football team is playing in an international tournament. They are even doing reasonably well. And everyone assumes I must be following this with the greatest fascination. I find myself embroiled in many one-sided conversations about last night’s match.

People know me for a ‘football fan’. They are aware – how can they not be? – that there is a big football thing going on. They know I am English. So I understand the false assumptions they make.

It just happens that I’m not a football fan so much as a Burnley supporter. I have my club, and I support them, and to be honest I don’t have a huge amount of interest in the game beyond that. Call me blinkered if you like, but I can’t help it. It’s the way I am.

I do believe that, for people who really take an interest, it’s the club that’s the important thing. People who are just playing at it don’t understand this. For temporary fans, summer football supporters, England is the thing that matters, but for people who go to matches, club always comes before country. And I think that’s one of the great things about our game.

I’m not going to adopt an extremist position of pretending complete contempt for everything England do. If the game’s on the TV and I’m in, I’ll watch it alright. But if it clashes with something else, I’ll do the something else. Imagine not doing something live, something that involves going out and doing something new, to stay in and watch a game on TV! At the start of the tournament, I decided not a single Brownie Point – married football supporters will understand Brownie Points – would be expended on Euro 2004. I need them all for the coming English Second Division season.

So I watched the games against France and Croatia, conveniently scheduled as they were. I missed the match against Switzerland, kicking off at five o’clock. What kind of time was that? And who wants to watch a map in a pub of pissed-up know-nothings shouting at the screen? Instead went to the cinema, where it was beautifully quiet. For Thursday, when England play Portugal, I have tickets for the theatre. Do I feel agony at this clash? No, not a bit, and I can’t pretend I do.

Televised football does little for me. I watch my games at the match. I’ve never been tempted to go to an England game. I’ve been to hundreds of Burnley games. I didn’t for a moment contemplate going to Portugal this summer. Apparently Burnley are having a week in Austria and I’m checking the flights. And as far as I’m concerned, Wayne Rooney being this decade’s Gazza is not the big football story of the summer. Not when Burnley have signed a useful-sounding central defender, John McGreal. I would, honestly, trade England going all the way this summer for an opening day win in August for Steve Cotterill, our new manager.

It’s hard for people to understand this. This time of year, you’re supposed to hang your English flags on your cars, get the beers in for the TV match and debate every kick with the bloke at work who you know is into football.

I know they’re harmless, it’s just people seem to feel this tremendous pressure to subscribe to football fever at times like these. On my street three houses furl England flags from their windows. I’m pretty confident I’m not going to bump into any of these neighbours when my team plays the local club, West Ham, next season. This summer I’ve got a lot of time for those who refuse to fake interest, like my wife’s friend who called during the England/Croatia game. The match had never crossed her radar.

People find my attitude strange, but it’s just that I can’t pretend. I’ll tell you when I knew for sure. England crashed from 1-0 up to 2-1 down in the blink of an eye against France and I felt no anguish, no despair, not even frustration. It didn’t hurt me. In football, only, it seems, Burnley can do that. Oh, and they do.

What to do?

I recognise the liberal anguish of not knowing what to do about a blind person on the tube.

It seemed significant

This morning I walked past a hearse, parked outside a church. It was empty, but for the driver, sitting at the steering wheel, yacking away on his mobile phone.