This country has enemies–there’s no secret about that. But there is one enemy America has had as long as it has existed. I am speaking of course, about England.
Sure, we are now great allies and enjoy a special diplomatic relationship with our former mother country, but just like with a great friendship, everyone has their spats. For most of the world, it’s easy to hate the English, because they have colonized, waged war against, or simply subjugated for centuries.
So when the U.S. soccer team played England on Saturday, I, like so many other Americans, watched my first soccer game, and pretended I was excited about it.I’m Irish, so hating the English comes naturally. Aside from whisky, the strongest bond the Irish have is their hatred of the United Kingdom for all it has done to the Emerald Isle.
I had no real need to hate the English outwardly, until one night when I was out at a bar in college. Rick Snee also happened to be there that night. As the drinks flowed, we got into singing various songs that came on the jukebox. Then, U2’s “Sunday, Bloody Sunday” came on, Rick looked at me and started chanting “F&$% the English!” I took up the chant along with him, even though the rest of the bar was confused at our sentiments. And so it began.
Now, the Brits are growing increasingly sympathetic for BP, and more critical of the U.S. over the government’s public flogging of the oil company responsible for the worse ecological disaster in the country’s history. They don’t think we are angry because of the oil gusher that continues to gush, or the oil that’s washing ashore, or the sea life it’s killing, or the millions of area jobs that are at risk along the Gulf Coast, or how BP’s CEO keeps letting loose with the gaffes, or our love/ hate relationship with Big Oil. No, they think it’s because they’re British.
Dodge bought the ad just before the big game on Saturday. And not surprisingly, it was strongly American-leaning. The commercial begins with an English soldier in Revolutionary War garb rushing to tell his superiors that the Continental Army is coming on fast. As the smarmy Brits ready for an attack, three Dodge Challengers take the battlefield, one of which is driven by George Washington, who may or may not have actually known how to drive a car in his time.
Upon seeing the muscle cars, or perhaps not really understanding what the hell the cars were, the English began to retreat. Washington and his trusty car win the day, as narrator Michael C. Hall says, “Here’s a couple things America got right: cars and freedom.”
Take that, limeys!
So I watched the game–sort of. It was more like I turned around and looked at my television when the announcer’s voice raised. Let me tell you, it was a barn burner, ending in a 1-1 tie. Shortly thereafter, I saw countless Americans on Facebook express their confusion as to why a tie was a good thing, or even allowed in a tournament.
Soccer isn’t America’s game, because America likes a discernible outcome, preferably a victory. Perhaps England loves it so much because it doesn’t have to win.
Damn the Limey bastards!