The World According To Damien
in a World gone mad – one sane voice emerges…

Damien on… Sport In Britain

Elsewhere in these ramblings* I have discussed my enthusiasm for sport (it is on a par with my feelings towards hip-hop “music”) and thus my knowledge of it is in the same league (lame pun intended).

But a thought occurred to me and so I went stat-hunting (STAT, not stag – keep up) and it is worse than I thought.

The “Wonderful Game” – football – was invented in England. And yet, since the World Cup began (1930) England has only won it ONCE (1966, of course).

Then there is rugby. Again, a game born in England (unsurprisingly, Rugby) but in most internationals, she has had her arse handed to her by men from the Antipodes (Australia and New Zealand).

What about tennis? Well, the modern game is once again English – and yet no male Brit has won Wimbers since Fred Perry, in the Thirties.

And the women have fared little better – three wins since (again) the Thirties.

Finally, what could be more English than The Summer Game – cricket? You can almost hear Elgar’s “Nimrod” playing. And yet since its inception, England has NEVER won the World Cup, having been trounced four times by Australia, twice by both India and the Windies – and once by both Pakistan and Sri Lanka. Ouch.

Whilst north of the border, the Scots – who can certainly lay claim to the modern game of golf (a nice walk spoiled) – have done as piss-poorly as us Sassenaches. Only two Scots have held The Open’s Claret Jug aloft, since 1920.

And yet the British keep trying. They spend billions (proper, long ones) watching America (north AND south) Europe (east AND west) Asia and Australasia (that’s pretty much the whole World) CLOBBER the ever-optimistic but ultimately-futile efforts made, to succeed at ANY of the games their own people ORIGINATED.



One Response to “Damien on… Sport In Britain”

  1. I used to watch Tour de France just for the nice pictures of chaps having a ride through the countryside, and little towns. And, until Mike Hawthorne rolled his Jag, I used to listen to motor-car racing. Nothing else held any interest for me. I read (‘reed’ not ‘red’ -flippin’ English) every now and then of a schoolboy taking a cricket ball in the chest and his heart stopping, poor kid. I certainly hate the unsporting attitude of yer common oik who only accepts the result if his side wins. So I am delighted when you, dear ole bud, come out with a choice insult on some aspect of it all. I therefore LOVE your Hip-Hop, and your “nice walk, spoiled” remarks!

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