BREXILE: The Light at the end of the Chunnel

More reanimated scribblings from me on the subject of belonging (or not). I wrote this in June 2017, reflecting back 21 years to June 1996 and that football match.

Even June 2017 seems a distant world now - “Germany - under the chancellorship of Angela Merkel - is being hailed as leader of the free world.” Well, there’s not much hailing of that sort going on at the moment ...

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THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE CHUNNEL

 

21 years ago, I sat down in a cellar in Mittelbuchen and wept. 

 

And then I got up and demanded a taxi to take me to the airport, to go home, back to England. This, of course, was absurd. I was plastered and was expected at 9 o’clock sharp in a Frankfurt West End office the next day. All I had were the clothes I stood up in and a large artwork board bearing a Magic-Markered cross of St George and pictures of Gascoigne, Shearer, Sheringham et al clipped out of the newspapers.

 

They were oblivious to my anguish, my German friends. Oblivious to my cries of how England had deserved to win, needed to win, for the good of the whole country. The tragic irony of it all. Beaten at Wembley – the hosts! It just wasn’t cricket. 30 years of hurt. Hurt to the bone, and what’s bred therein. It was like finding your new spouse cheating on your honeymoon.  

 

In March 1996, three months previously, I’d jumped the great ship Britannia as she sailed towards the island of Cool. My one-way ticket cut through the Heathrow fog like a landing light. Terminal 1 echoed with finality – no going back?

 

Who in their right mind would want to go there? We had Oasis, the Spice Girls, two World Wars and one Word Cup. They had bad haircuts and even worse music. I arrived at Frankfurt airport with the baggage of ignorant superiority and (relative) youthful arrogance. And a yuppie hangover.

 

Last night, 27^th June 2017, was the half-final of the Under 21s. England vs. Germany, and history seemed to be repeating itself, although none of the players on the pitch had even been born, that fateful night in Wembley. Maybe their mothers had wept, as I had, clutched their bumps, and dreamed of their little man growing up to be the saviour of English football, a young lion. Or maybe not.

 

Has nothing changed? Maybe not on the football pitch, but there’s a world beyond that. In that world, Germany seems to have achieved a feat even more remarkable than an English football team winning on penalties. Germany – under the chancellorship of Angela Merkel – is being hailed as the leader of the free world. This isn’t about economy, or defence but about values. Who can’t fail to be delighted seeing Angie’s scornful glances and wry smiles in the presence of Donald Trump? 

 

Meanwhile: Oh! England, my hamster heart.

 

The great ship Britannia sank unceremoniously amid illegal wars, lies, cheating, fraud, bad banks, dissent, phone hacking, unscrupulous journalists and I could go on but it’s just depressing. The country is a stirred-up wasps’ nest. Full of sound and fury and signifying I’m not sure what. People have forgotten how to be human.

 

Am I a patriot? I don’t really know. All I can say at the moment is that I love my country for what it was and what it could be, rather than what it is today.

 

So, what about the football? Did history repeat itself for me too? Well, this time, no. There were no tears on my part and no alcohol. Maybe the two were connected.

 

The only barriers between me and getting my German citizenship now are time and money. I’ve passed the tests, gathered all the documentation and all I need do now is make an appointment and hand over my Euros.

 

I read an article pertinent to my situation, the other day:

https://www.theschooloflife.com/article/countries-for-losers-countries-for-winners/

 

The idea is that there are countries that reward winners richly, but where the losers pay the price. Yes, guess which country is top, followed by – yup, got it! And this all works because many people naturally assume that they’ll win at some point.

 

Germany is on the other list of countries – those where voters graciously admit they are and will remain losers and where public transport, housing and schools are fit and decent for the majority of the population: the ‘losers.’

 

I do wonder if my wish to become German has something to do with my middle-aged but happy acceptance that I’m not one of life’s ultimate winners?

 

So, German citizenship, here I come. Watch this space.

 

But I would like to see those bastards once, just once, lose at football! 

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These days, I’m clutching both passports as I scurry back and forth across the Chunnel. 

And soon we’ll get a new government here. Let’s see.

Whatever happens, and politics aside, as far as I'm concerned, There’ll Always Be a Europe.