7 Jul 2008(Mon)

Once my fellow coursemates and I had sufficiently adjusted and settled into the Osaka lifestyle during my spell at university in Japan, we would spend many a weekend doing what all good students do by partying in Umeda and Namba. My memory of the many times we all went out is understandably blurred in places, but one particular evening of drinking has always remained with me due to a somewhat bizarre exchange in which I found myself involved. One of the girls from the course had asked if she could bring a friend who was apparently quite interested in me, but much to my disappointment after such promise, it was ultimately a bloke from Singapore who joined us at the table, rather than an attractive female acquaintance. In any case, this gentleman promptly sat in the chair immediately to my right, and turned to me with a barely suppressed smile on his face.

‘Hello, Ben. You must be really great if you go to Oxford.’

Taken aback somewhat by such a superlative compliment from someone I had never met before, I tried my best to engage him in conversation, but to be truthful, his apparent awe made me feel quite uncomfortable, and I quickly sought another partner with whom to down a couple.

 

Looking back, of course, I am sure that this guy never meant to cause any problem, but it is certainly true to say that, as soon as the name ‘Oxford’ is mentioned, many people will inevitably react in some way. In some cases, this may lead to an immediately favourable impression in a job interview, while at the opposite extreme, others may instantly suppose you to be arrogant and ‘not the same as us’ – but either way, such impressions tend to be borne out of a preconceived image of the subject in question.

 

It was similar when I decided to study Japanese at university. Because I had chosen such an unusual (strange?) course to pursue, I not only startled the teachers who had expected me to go for maths or linguistics, but was also subject to comments from my peers that ranged from praise for such originality to minor ridicule as ‘some kind of manga freak’. (I probably wouldn’t argue with you if you suggested I may be a little strange, but I’d just like to add for the record that I have still never read any manga in my entire life.) I suppose that many people will have a certain image of Japan as well, and it is probably an unavoidable human trait to develop strong impressions from these images, even if we have no actual experience with which to back them up. Since leaving England, I have started to become aware that the same phenomenon may apply to my country’s national football team.

 

Whether it is because of its history as the birthplace of football, the performances of Manchester United and Liverpool in the Premier and Champions Leagues broadcast on global television, or the superstar status that the players have now risen to, there remains a strong image throughout the world of England being a country of soccer. The first time I saw a J-League game at Banpaku, many of the local supporters were openly delighted to meet someone from ‘the home of football’. During the 2002 World Cup in Japan and South Korea, I remember seeing thousands of Japanese supporting England on British TV, and will never forget the sight of a Japanese gentleman donning the three lions and bellowing out ‘God Save the Queen’ at the top of his (heavily accented) voice.

 

Even in the qualifiers for this year’s European Championships, Fuji Television’s satellite channel only showed one or two out of the dozens of games played on each matchday, but such was the appeal of England that I was still able to see us play almost every time. In the end, we were of course knocked out at this stage by Croatia and Russia, but still many people here in Japan – both passionate and merely occasional football fans – have told me recently how a European Championships without England was such a shame and made for a slightly strange viewing experience. If I am brutally honest, our national team has long been in stagnation and has given little other than disappointing performances for a number of years, but unaware or, perhaps, simply uncaring of such details, many people across the world continue to hold this highly positive image.

 

However, a problem arises when we, the English, believe in this image ourselves. When a friend at work told me before the 2006 World Cup that ‘they said on TV last night that England could win the tournament’, I remember flatly replying ‘yeah, obviously’, and I’m aware that this makes me as guilty as any other. It is certainly a flaw of the English supporters and tabloid press that we tend to overhype our team after one victory, before chastising the players again after one defeat. The thing that concerns me most, however, is the distinct possibility that our undoubtedly talented players have been taken in by this image while enjoying the money and the fame, before actually producing the results on the field.

 

For the first time in a while, though, we have been able to enjoy an excellent European Championships more calmly, unbiased by over-expectation and the inevitable despair of penalty shootout defeat, and this should hopefully have provided the opportunity for reflection. Replicating the quality of Spain or the style of Holland may be too much to ask for, but I hope that Capello’s England will at least perform to the best of their abilities in a manner akin to a Russia or Croatia, to bring pride back to the supporters and justify the favourable impression that still lingers in various parts of the world.