The Google-conquering post about Why the Scottish Hate the English continues to attract comments. Most are very poor fare indeed but I must draw your attention to this corker from Anonymous, who writes in a Comedy Scots accent:
btw that isnt even the proper reason y we dont like the english
1. if someone scottish wins an important event such as a gold medal at eh olympics or suhin hes british, as soon as he loses hes scottish again.
2. if england win anythin suddenly they are the best in the world and the media go on n on n on about it
3. yeez have yer heads shoved so far up americas ass
4. yeez think ye r superior to every other country
5. everytime the world cup comes around ye hink yer gonna win when ye always seem tae get put out after the group stage
6. yeez hink there is suhin wrong wae scottish money when its clearly legal tender
7. aw yer wee 'chavs' hink theyre ment
theyre is so much more a could say but a canny be arsed
I have to say it’s hard to take issue with any of the specific objections raised by Anonymous Comedy Scotsman. This is by some distance the most coherent and fair dinkum anti-English comment yet. Certainly point 5 is both topical and irrefutable, as our footballers prepare to head out for South Africa this summer.
Now, nobody can accuse me of lacking patriotism, but I’m also reasonably sane and like all true football-lovers I’m always much relieved when England have been eliminated from the World Cup or the Euros. The pattern (and I cannot put it more succinctly than did the Old Batsman: unconvincing progress to the quarter-finals before elimination on penalties to either Portugal or Germany) is inevitable, its torment blunted only by its sheer familiarity. Once Ingerlund’s players have gone - and with them our dim, embarrassed hopes of a scrap and scrape to undeserved glory - it is possible to relax and enjoy what remains of the sporting spectacle.
However, the comment above has lit a jingoistic spark. I hadn’t fully considered the implications of an England World Cup victory. For however much pleasure that unlikely event would bring us Englishmen, the pain for the Scots would be tenfold. We could suffer the insufferable triumphalism, the knighthoods (arise, Sir Wayne), the Trafalgar Square tickertape parades, and even the politicians’ bandwagon jumping, simply by reminding ourselves that on the wrong side of Hadrian’s Wall the Jocks are gnashing their teeth, tearing at their scarlet locks and praying for Armageddon. It is almost too much to hope for. Come on England!