Forum: Let this British expat come to the defence of English football

I thoroughly enjoyed reading about Rohit Brijnath’s football fandom journey from England to Brazil (England was my boyhood side, but they lost me to Brazil and the art of Socrates, June 17). His thoughts on football as art were a delight, and will ring true to football fans who read them.

They also prompted a familiar reflex in this British expatriate in Singapore: the urge to come to England’s defence.

We accept, of course, the charge that England have rarely resembled the Brazil team of 1982. Our football has sometimes been that of passion over elegance, straight lines over sweeping curves and flair.

But I would suggest that English football has its own special beauty, concentrated into moments rather than movements on the pitch – as when it arrives, it tends to do so with a bang.

Brijnath brilliantly evoked Gordon Banks’ astonishing save from Pele in 1970, or Bobby Moore in that same tournament, gliding across the Mexican turf to dispossess Jairzinho with a challenge so immaculate it could have been choreographed in a West End smash.

There is Geoff Hurst in 1966, striking a ball that continues to echo in the national imagination, securing England’s only World Cup triumph – still, for many, the defining moment of English football history.

There is David Beckham, twice bending reality to his will, from the halfway line in 1996, and with that last-gasp free kick against Greece in 2001 that carried the entire nation with it.

And most recently, there is Jude Bellingham, powering through Mexico’s defence to propel England into the World Cup quarter-finals.

These are perhaps not quite Brazil’s symphonies, nor France’s impressionist movements. But they are unmistakably a distinctive English music: a collection of unforgettable notes, harmonising to create an anthem of great English football.

If comparisons are inevitable, it is perhaps the personalities that truly give the game away. Brazil’s moments always seemed like those from a sunlit novel. England, by contrast, have tended to produce moments of a rather different flavour; gritty and nerve-jangling.

If Brazil’s football belongs to the beautiful game, England’s belongs to the crowd – louder, frenetic, but just as thrilling.

In this year’s tournament, too, we see the joy of both styles on full display. Brazil dazzled with their technical skill, breathing that famous passion into every pass, shot and flurry of undeniable skill.

Meanwhile, England do what they do best, undeniable grace and power on the ball, coupled with a healthy dose of the unpredictable.

This is the magic of football, the ups and the downs. As long as such moments remain possible, the music will never fade – it will rise again with every roar of the crowd, every gasp of anticipation, and every heartbeat of hope.

Nik Mehta 
British High Commissioner to Singapore