Of Chavs and English men 11 06 2006

In the mid-90s Mark E. Smith said of the English football team: "Lions led by donkeys."  A decade  on, it would have been better to say: "Rich chavs led by a literate foreigner." 

Will donkeys return when McClaren takes over (it should have been O'Neill in my book)?  Steve may disagree, but one suspects that McClaren has one foot in the chav camp.  He will be leading the rich chavs now. 

But what is a CHAV? Why are they associated with the English team? 

Having come from a chavvish culture and owning Burberry spectacles, I am in a position to comment. In my youth, I lived with the equivalent of chavs on a council estate in the UK. Though shedding visual traces of its influence, the Chavs remain my brethren.

Laughingly, and more than a little mockingly, an acquaintance of Portuguese descent, over a pint of Guinness, called me a late blooming DHL the other night. Hilarious. DHL being from the same social group

Chavs. My cousins. Watching football, in the heat of an England match, I metamorphose into one.  Were it not for the presence of my angel, I may have reverted - and worn a baseball cap at a ridiculous angle, and spent cash on tasteless fake designer clothes. 

You never leave the tribe. You always question the notion of fair play. You were brought up in a thieving culture. Patience has never been a virtue there. But from afar, supporting England made me realize - the nonsense of St George flag waving nonsense - the idiocy of chav talk in the pubs

The Paraguayan fans seemed far more approachable. More fun-loving. More loveable. Can I say this and be allowed back? Will I be hurled off to Traitors Gate, executed n a St. George's flag? Me, who chose to move out. Me, who chose a dusky wife and dropped his chav past.

Still, come Thursday, I'll be chavving it up in spirit in front of the telly. 

 For 90 minutes, that's all.