I enjoyed the first two thirds or so of this. Yes, it slots into every box-ticking FUCKING FOOTY IS FUCKING BRILLIANT AND MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANYTHING! category imaginable these days.
Yes there’s the usual dodgy jingoism about it all, and, yes it’s the usual footy+lager/MacDonalds/chocolate meme we get every world cup (see also: Venables, Redknapp and Wright disaster confluence).
I like Jackie Charlton’s appearance – it’s a link back to football was a nobler, less commodified pursuit – and I like some of the voiceover; it’s almost as if it’s a reminder to overpaid, spoilt Premiership stars to buck their bloody ideas up and remember they’re not just playing for themselves.
The appearance of some of England’s foremost sportspeople is an important reminder than we’re a little country capable of great things, before it goes all foreigner-baiting with the quite astonishing “You’ll make them regret the day they took on England!’.
Worse than that, though, is the use of the images of Bobby Moore and, especially Bobby Robson. Using Robson’s image, particularly, to sell shit lager seems like the height of bad taste to me. Yes, as a Newcastle United fan, but also as a human being. The guy died less than a year ago. Jesus.
And then all hell breaks loose. Kasabian – a band I associate mainly with binge-drinking, Saturday night city-centre violence and shit gangster films – and eye-rolling ENGERLAND! bollocks and Botham twatting about in chainmail. And Aslan.
Promising start. Feeble, predictable, depressing end. Can you guess where I’m going with this?