Kingdom United

The Cricket World Twenty 20 Championship has once again highlighted the confusion that enshrouds our competitive sports. England, the hosts, have started with embarrasment against the Netherlands, failing to live up to expectations, as we have come to expect. Other lesser-famed cricketing nations on the card included Scotland and a smattering of ex-pat antipodeans that, when cornered at the pavillion bar, enigmatically refer to themselves as "Ireland".
 

No Wales? Well, yes, in fact "England", the militant wing of the England & Wales Cricket Board, includes Wales. This is probably due to the fact that in legal terms, Wales is a part of England. We just don’t call it “England & Wales”. “England & South Africa” would reflect the demographic more accurately anyhow. The last Welshman in the side was Worcestershire pace bowler Simon Jones who hasn’t played since 2005. There are cries to re-establish a Welsh national cricket team which has not competed properly since its last friendly game against England in 2004. A separate Wales minor counties side (under the control of the Welsh Cricket Association, a purely amateur body), has been appearing in the NatWest trophy since the late '80s, occasionally playing quasi-international fixtures within the minor counties remit, once notably beating Denmark in the first round of the 2004 C&G Trophy.

A team calling itself Scotland has also appeared in minor counties cricket over the years. But this has nothing to do with the Scotland competing at the T20. You don't have to be Scottish to play for Scotland MC (but it helps). You do have to be Scottish to play for the Scotland national team (that might not help). Admittedly shinty lends itself better to the highland weather, but there have been a few Scottish cricketers of test match quality over the years, including the notorious Douglas Jardine, instigator of the ‘bodyline’ controversy in the ‘30s, and Mike Denness, Wisden cricketer of the year in 1975. They both of course, captained England.

The England cricket team: you don't have to be English.

Next year we look forward to the dazzling pageant of football and razzmatazz that will be the South Africa 2010 World Cup. Barring divine intervention neither Scotland nor Wales will be going. Wales have not qualified for a World Cup finals tournament since 1958, Scotland not since 1990. Barring disaster, England will qualify, the only home nation that routinely does.

There is no united Ireland in football. The Irish Football Association and the Football Association of Ireland (guess which is which) both field their own sides and both the Republic and Northern Ireland are still in with a shout (the latter after the best run of home results since the likes of Norman Whiteside and Pat Jennings saw them through to the Mexico World Cup in 1986).

This is unlike the situation in the rugby union world, where an all-Ireland team have played for decades, regardless of nationality or religion, a remarkable feat considering the history of the island. A similar arrangement for football is backed by the SDLP and the Irish Green Party but heavily opposed by the Ulster Unionists, which is not surprising.

Rugby league is in interesting case. Its popularity is restricted mainly to the ‘whippet belt’, that strip of Northern England between the Trent and the Tees. We originally competed as England and in the early days often took on a team known by the wonderfully precise name ‘Other Nationalities’, which soaked up all the Scots, the Welsh and South Africans who didn’t have a national team of their own. This changed drastically after the war with a significant influx of Welsh players to the league, and to a lesser extent Scots, attracted by the salaried nature of the game, in the days when union was still an amateur code.

With no serious playing base outside its heartland in the north of England, but with plenty of celtic rugby union defectors to draw upon England soon became Great Britain and Ireland, usually shortened to Great Britain. They were a strong side, always serious contenders against the best in the world, Australia. Since 1975 however they began intermittently splitting into home nations for world cup competitions. The dearth of league-playing countries made this necessary to make up numbers. In 2006 the Great Britain identity was finally retired except for occasional southern-hemisphere tours, rather like the British & Irish Lions - more a cost-sharing exercise than national crusade. Rugby League Ireland was established to run the sport in Ireland whilst England, Scotland and Wales remain ostensibly under the administration of one governing body, the Rugby Football League, although the latter has sprouted a separate subdivision for the sport in Scotland. What Ireland, Scotland and Wales have in common is that practically every single one of their players are as Yorkshire as flatcaps, or as Aussie as budgie smugglers.

Holding their own: Great Britain vs Australia, 1990

The London Games 2012, are a different proposition altogether. The Olympic Games is one of those increasingly rare occasions when we do stuff together (unlike the Commonwealth Games where the home nations compete separately). Northern Irish athletes will compete under the Great Britain & Northern Ireland banner (although the Northern Ireland bit is always left off) alongside athletes from England, Wales, Scotland, the Isle of Man and all other peripheral Crown Dependencies of ambiguous status. The Republic of Ireland will of course, do their own thing. This does however leave us a quandry regarding the olympic football competition. Aside from the fact that many people do not really think it belongs at the Games, and that the players are (U21) professionals, there has not been a combined UK or GB football team in play since 1972.

The problem is that there has never been a single governing body for UK football. The Football Association, founded 1863, was the first in the world. It didn’t call itself the English FA because it didn’t need to. It was the only one. Either that or it had pretensions to represent the whole UK. In any case it remained simply ‘The FA’, though Scottish, Welsh and Irish associations were founded soon afterwards, establishing exclusion zones for the home nations’ systems.

And so it has remained. The Scottish FA and the nation-builders in Edinburgh see the prospect of a British football team as a threat to their autonomy, the Welsh and Northern Irish slightly less so. The Scots are really horrified. Have I said that already? The argument seems fallacious, and is perhaps just political. Until 1972 we managed to put a GB team together and none of the associations were the worse off for it. Nor do the rugby unions suffer for fielding the British and Irish Lions. Nonetheless Sepp Blatter, the FIFA president has come out in sympathy for their concerns and this leaves us with the odd prospect of a Great Britain olympic football team, ostensibly representing the United Kingdom, but comprised entirely of English players. One might expect a few smug remarks about this being inevitable anyway. Perhaps the Scots are sparing their own blushes, but there will be no ‘Kingdom United’.

It's worked before: the 1912 GB olympic football team.

Aside from the Olympics the idea of a British football team has been mooted before. It never got far and this is tragic for one reason at least: the thwarted hero. The thwarted hero is that player of outstanding talent from Scotland, Wales or Northern Ireland, who never gets to play in the World Cup. Those worthy of special mention here are George Best (Northern Ireland), Ryan Giggs, Mark Hughes (both Wales) and Ally McCoist (Scotland). These players were let down by below-par squads, resulting from their smaller national catchments.

They and many others would have found their places in a British team, which would arguably have been stronger than any of its parts. Who could say that a team comprising Best, Banks, Moore, Stiles, Charlton, Hurst, Toshack, Bremner and Law would not have beaten the world in 1970? Even knowing this, or perhaps precisely because of this, the Scottish, Welsh and Irish FAs prefer to put out a second-rate side that’s all theirs, rather than have minor representation in what would inevitably tend to be an England-dominated British side. This means no success in the World Cup, but as tennis player Andy Murray famously remarked, they can still support anyone that plays against England. It was just banter, but as Andy knew, there are many for whom the sentiment is serious.

So if never the twain shall meet, what about eligibility? In general home nations sides representing professional sports deem a UK-born player eligible to play for them if a) he was born in that country, or b) at least one parent or grandparent was born in that country, and c) he has not played for another national team at senior level. For a great many of mixed ancestry it boils down to personal choice, for others it is more complex.

Take the case of talismanic England forward Michael Owen. Michael comes from Flintshire, Wales, but was born at the nearest hospital, just over the border in Cheshire, England. His parents were both born in England and he has one Scottish grandparent. Despite having lived all his life in Wales, and of course the name, he does not qualify for the Welsh football team. Wales’ loss is England’s gain.

Naturalised citizens are theoretically eligible for any of the home nations. Those South Africans who arrive on tourist visas and end up on the England cricket team a couple of weeks later could theoretically play for Scotland if they wanted to. It is an odd paradox of the system. Denying British-born citizens rights that are afforded naturalised foreigners seems unfair, if not unlawful. There is no English, Welsh or Scottish citizenship after all. The fact is if you put a red dragon on Michael Owen’s chest he becomes Welsh; put a lion on him and he becomes Scottish; put three lions on him and in our minds he becomes English; but Michael Owen is best described as British.

Michael Owen: Welsh lad who couldn't play for Wales,

could have played for Scotland, but plays for England.

England’s relatively greater footballing success gives rise to a feedback loop in these situations, which tends to widen the gulf between them and the rest. Owen Hargreaves, a Canadian by birth, but with British parents, was eligible to play for any of the home nations. Perhaps because of his name he ended up in the Wales youth team, but just before his U21 debut, England approached him and he switched. England offered greater prestige and a better chance of playing in the big events. Except for true patriots, given the choice most ambitious young lads would do the same, and England aren’t complaining.

PFA player of the year 2009, Ryan Giggs, did the opposite. Born in Cardiff, he moved to Manchester as a youth and represented England schoolboys. Eligibility at schoolboy level depends uniquely on place of residence so for Ryan it wasn’t really a conscious choice. The England U21 squad hoped to get hold of him too until it transpired he has no English grandparents. He does have an African one. Ryan Giggs, British citizen, Manchester resident, Manchester United star, England youth player, English PFA player of the year, was eligible to play for Sierra Leone, but not for England. He has represented a below-par Wales ever since, rubbing shoulders with lower calibre ‘Englishmen’ such as Vinnie Jones, for whom having a Welsh grandfather was the only window to international football.

Confusion and ambiguity aren’t confined to football. Scottish squash player Peter Nicol did once play for Scotland in the Commonwealth Games, but later switched to England because of better funding. It was easy. He could represent England as long as he stayed there for six months prior to the Games. The Commonwealth Games chiefs have now tightened up the rules, insisting one be resident in said country for two of the three years prior to an event. Though one still imagines it might be easy to use a cousin’s address in Newport and bomb down the M4 on alternate weekends to tend the daffodils, should one desire.

The situation may change again soon. The aforementioned nation-builders in Edinburgh, with SNP leader Alec Salmond at the helm, are pushing for a complete separation of Scotland from the UK. At the same time, and regardless of constitutional changes, moves are afoot to separate Scotland from the Team GB olympic squad. The website www.c-scot.org claims 78% of respondents are in favour of a separate Team Tartan for 2012. Where that would leave the rest of Team GB is a perplexing question. “Team England, Wales and Northern Ireland” does not really roll of the tongue, and it would require some interesting photoshopping on the flag. Furthermore London 2012 would cease to be a home olympics for Scottish athletes. A patriotic Scottish public might not appreciate the value of home crowd support, but athletes do.

Athletes have ridiculed the idea of a Scottish olympic team, none more so than cyclist Chris Hoy. The most successful Scottish olympian ever has pointed out that he would not have three gold medals around his neck (or the knighthood, Chris) from the Beijing Games if it had not been for Team GB. Tellingly, what he doesn’t say is that it is because he feels British. It is because Scotland does not have the facilities to train up world-class athletes. Until Alec Salmond builds a new velodrome in Leith Team GB’s future seems safe.

Proud to be... receiving British sports funding – cyclist Chris Hoy

Domestic competition is less vulnerable to nationalistic sentiments. Entertainment is the draw, not national pride, English Premiership football of course being the jewel in the crown. The 'Old Firm' clubs of Glasgow, Rangers and Celtic, would like to join. Enticed by the big money and slightly embarrassed by the scruffy kids mum keeps inviting to their parties, they have made repeated overtures to the Premiership moguls. It represents competition at their own level, or better, and a payday unheard of in Scottish football.

For the most part the established Peremiership clubs, seeing plenty to lose and little to gain for themselves, have closed ranks. Phil Gartside, Bolton Wanderers Chairman is an exception. He has recently proposed a two-tier Premiership of 16 teams each, essentially sliding another division in between the Premiership and the Championship, with Rangers and Celtic in the second tier. It seems unlikely to get the backing of the required 14 out of 20 Premiership clubs, nor the blessing of the FA, the SFA and UEFA. If the top two were to defect, Scottish football would undoubtedly find itself heavily devalued, rather like its Welsh counterpart.

The rather oxymoronic Welsh Premier League is a parochial affair that hardly gets a mention in the papers. The top six Welsh clubs, including Championship high-fliers Swansea and Cardiff, long since left to play in the English leagues. The Welsh champions are Rhyl FC and frankly who cares. There is a Welsh Cup too, but it suffers from the same obscurity. The big six have not participated since 1995, now playing in the (English) FA Cup instead. Conversely, English clubs located close to the Welsh border used to compete in the Welsh Cup, but were booted out at around the same time. The last English winners were Hereford United in 89-90. This year’s final was between Bangor and Aberystwyth at the tiny Scarlets Park, Llanelli. The ground was almost empty.

Aberystwyth and Bangor outnumbered the fans at the Welsh Cup final, Llanelli 2009

Football in Northern Ireland is simlarly of low calibre, falling well short of the critical mass required to sustain a viable league of any standard. But this belies the fact that both Wales and Northern Ireland have produced, and continue to produce some of Britain’s most outstanding footballers, whose best career move is sadly, to go to England.

Consider Manchester United. Their enormous success over the years has been in no small measure due to the ranks of talented Welsh, Northern Irish and Scotsmen who could not be retained by their domestic leagues: Darren Fletcher, Brian McLair, Gordon Strachan, Mark Hughes, Ryan Giggs, Norman Whiteside, Gordon McQueen, Martin Buchan, Sammy McIllroy, Mickey Thomas, George Best, Denis Law, Jimmy Nichol, Arthur Albiston… the list goes on, and the trend is repeated across the top English clubs.

Perplexingly, if any of the Welsh clubs in the English pyramid were to have the kind of success that brought them European qualification, they would be barred from taking it up, since they remain under the administration of the FAW (Football Association of Wales), and as such could only qualify for Europe from within the Welsh system. They will cross that bridge if they ever come to it, but there were no doubt a few sweaty brows at UEFA when Cardiff made the FA Cup Final in 2008. Other anomalies abound. Now-defunct Gretna FC (in Scotland) used to play in the English league. Just across the Cheviots, Berwick Rangers (in England) play in the Scottish league. TNS of Oswestry (in England) play in the Welsh league.

The English system is massive, awash with money and attracts the best players from around the world and the British Isles. The Welsh and Northern Irish systems languish in obscurity and the Scottish league is robust but top heavy. The sensible solution might be comprehensively to merge the top tiers of the English, Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish football pyramids. A British Premier League...? a British Championship...? A British Cup...? What would be wrong with fixtures such as Aberdeen vs Swansea or Fulham vs Kilmarnock? It seems logical. The travelling distances are short. New club franchises in Wales and Northern Ireland could boost the game there and draw on a fan base who have for decades supported the top English and Scottish clubs.

But could it work? It would fly in the face of political trends, powerful vested interests and threaten the autonomy of well-entrenched governing bodies who will surely fight tooth and nail for their survival. It might just require an Act of Parliament (or three) and the recall of the Black Watch from Afghanistan (funnily enough we still die in wars together).

There are few precedents to draw on. The FA’s original flagship event was of course the FA Cup, but in the early years being English was by no means a pre-requisite for entering. Queen’s Park was a regular. Even after the Scottish FA launched its own version, the Scottish Cup, several Scottish clubs continued to enter, including Hearts, Rangers and Partick Thistle. Queen’s Park even finished runners up on two occasions, losing out to Blackburn Rovers in consecutive years. The Scottish FA, sensing a leak in its jurisdiction and prestige, finally barred Scottish clubs from entering the FA Cup in 1887.

The closest we came to creating a British cup was the Anglo-Scottish Cup. This saw sixteen English clubs and eight Scottish clubs battle it out through knockout rounds over a few summer seasons in the 1970s. Public interest was weak, club interest eventually waned and the tournament was scrapped in 1981. What is clear is that such a competition cannot exist in tandem with the established FA and Scottish cups. It would have to incorporate them. It is certainly plausible, but with British football so resolutely balkanised an expansion of the UEFA Champions league across top-tier European football seems infinitely more probable.

Rugby union has found its own quirky set of compromises on this issue. Whilst the Guinness Premiership is an all-English affair, (if you don’t count London Irish, based of course in Reading, and no longer very Irish), the Magners League has combined the top clubs from Ireland, Wales and Scotland in what was originally called the Celtic League. Leapfrogging England entirely, the Magners League now looks set to expand to include two brand new Italian club franchises. There had been prior moves to set up an Anglo-Welsh league but negotiations broke down over the issue of how many teams from each would take part. David and Goliath reached a compromise in the case of the EDF Energy Cup, which finds room for the 12 Guinness Premiership teams and the four Welsh Magners franchises, one of which, Cardiff Blues, is the title-holder. The Scots and Irish stay at home.

We still just about manage to do tennis together. Unusually, we probably have our strongest Davis Cup team for decades and most of the top players are Scots, including the world number three and darling of the all-England club, Andy Murray. If they keep up their run of form we could see Alec Salmond calling out for more separatism. It is a remarkable situation. The celtic fringe has always suffered a massive numerical disadvantage compared to England. The combined populations of Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland represent only 16% of the UK population, which currently stands at around 61 million. This means traditionally that in any combined UK or GB team Scotsmen, Welshmen and Ulstermen are usually in a small minority. It is rarely mentioned, but this single accident of demographics is at the root of the British problem. The Scottish, Welsh and Irish struggle for political and sporting parity with England is an impossible dream.

Andy Murray: He's Scottish and we love him.

It only poses a problem insofar as we cling on to the home nations identities and reject ‘Britishness’, and we stubbornly do. After all, within an English context, could the same logic not be applied by those forgotten underachievers the Northumbrians or the men of Wessex (proudly independent as recently as the 9th and 10th centuries respectively) to field their own national teams? If our history had perhaps been less murky, our constitution more resolved and our future less uncertain, we might perhaps have become real Brits. Nowadays it seems less likely than ever, as the protective cradle of the European Union has offered smaller nations the escape route they were waiting for and a rash of panting separatism has swept across western Europe.

We aren’t particularly good at looking abroad for inspiration, but perhaps we should. Giant countries like Brazil and Russia (itself with 100 nationalities of its own) put out unified national teams. Our neighbours the French and Spanish are no less diverse than we. (They boast 10 native languages and dialects each, whilst the UK has 5). But despite this and despite being much larger countries, when it comes to sports France is always France, Spain is always Spain and they still manage to muddle through with just one domestic sporting structure, one flag and one anthem. From a British perspective (if there is such a thing) there’s something quite refreshing about that!

The issue of anthems adds more mud to the mire. Like it or not, there is only one official national anthem in the UK, God Save The Queen. The England football team use it, although they did have an inexplicable Rule Britannia phase for home internationals, cunningly substituting one British anthem for another. The Northern Ireland football team also use God Save the Queen. The all-Ireland rugby union team are supposed to do so also on the rare occasion that they play in Belfast. (If they play England there would the anthem be sung twice?) In Dublin they sing Amhrán Na bhFiann, the anthem of the Republic (presumably loudly enough to drown out the gritting of teeth) and in an uncommon compromise they came up with a third anthem, ‘Ireland’s Call’ to use at away matches.

It would be fascinating to know what would happen if rugby union ever makes it as an olympic sport. Assuming the rugby football unions could co-operate, unlike their association football counterparts, and assuming Team GB survives, would Northern Irish players play for the Republic of Ireland, or for Great Britain against their teammates? One imagines it might depend on which anthem they sing best.

God Save The Queen used to be played at Scotland games but the boos got so loud that since the ‘90s rugby and football sides play Flower of Scotland instead, a tune composed allegedly, in a nice touch of paradox, on Northumbrian pipes. It recalls Robert Bruce’s routing of Edward II at Bannockburn in 1314 and, reassuringly to those south of the border, is the favourite to be one day selected as an official Scottish national anthem. The problem with God Save the Queen, it is said, is the legendary extra verse added during the second Jacobite rebellion of 1745, that includes the cleverly tactful line ‘…like a torrent rush, rebellious Scots to crush…’. Even if the story is true, the Scots really had nothing to worry about. No-one knows the words anyway.

Although Scottish nationalists generally find common cause with their counterparts across Europe, in an ironic 1925 parallel, passionate Catalans at FC Barcelona’s stadium jeered the Spanish national anthem before a game and then proceeded to applaud God Save the King, played by a visiting Royal Marine band. The dictator, Primo de Rivera was enraged. The stadium was closed for six months and the club’s president forced to flee the country. Perhaps foreign observers can appreciate our virtues in a way that we can’t. More likely it was just an impudent protest. But it reminds us that Britain has enjoyed a freedom of expression rare in other parts.

Scotland the Brave, the second favourite for a Scottish national anthem, is used at Commonwealth Games medal ceremonies, the Northern Irish use Danny Boy, whilst English medallists hear Land of Hope and Glory. The latter was also used by the England rugby league selection until 2005, when they reverted to God Save The Queen, perhaps to coincide with the demise of the Great Britain side. According to a 2006 BBC poll Land of Hope and Glory is the frontrunner if England ever finds itself dismembered and needs an anthem of its own. Other polls, notably www.anthem4england.co.uk, have the favourite as William Blake’s Jerusalem. This is the tune that England’s cricketers have been getting dewy-eyed to on pavillion steps since 2003.

The Welsh songbirds gain points for consistency, firing themselves up to Land of Our Fathers whatever the occasion. There was controversy at the 2008 FA Cup Final when Cardiff FC, (a rare summer visitor), insisted on having it played at Wembley. Cardiff had managed to muster three Welshmen in their lineup, five Englishman, three Scots and one Ulsterman. A more authentically British team could not have been conceived, but the FA agreed to their request, although no English anthem was played alongside, at what was supposedly an English occasion, in front of a predominantly English crowd, in England.

British team, English competition, Welsh songs: Cardiff at the Cup Final

A few years ago it might not have ruffled a brow but the English are slowly catching on. England fans nowadays proudly fly the cross of St. George and the three lions banner at matches, having finally understood that the union flag is not theirs. At the 1966 World Cup finals and even into the ‘90s many seemed to think it was, whilst for others Englishness had been subsumed into a generic Dad’s Army kind of Britishness, which was at its heart inevitably quite anglo-centric. This used to produce the odd spectacle at England-Scotland games, of stadia semi-festooned with union flags and demi-bedecked with blue saltires, presumably keeping psychoanalysts in the Wembley area scratching their heads.

“England, Great Britain, same ‘fing ‘innit?” World Cup fans, 1966

Undoubtedly the parliamentary devolution movements of the ‘90s played a part in reviving English symbolism too. Scots have always been very comfortable with their cross of St. Andrew and their lion rampant, the union flag kept for best when aunt Lizzy comes to visit. The curious exception of course, are Rangers fans, who wave the union flag in furious defiance of the Celtic followers, who naturally brandish Irish tricolores back at them. Happily, they can all agree to boo at God Save The Queen, but not within earshot of Balmoral, one hopes.

We're Scottish, can't you see? Celtic fans at an Old Firm derby.

The hurdler Colin Jackson tells the story of his agent, an Australian, the first time he saw Colin draped in a red dragon. “What’s that?” says the agent. “It’s the Welsh flag” replies Colin. “I thought you were British.” says the agent. He might be forgiven. Wales has no representation on the union flag. In fact it’s difficult to see how the red dragon could be accomodated, and technically Wales is still part of England, remember. There have been suggestions that the little known cross of St David (gold cross on black background) could be revived and insinuated on the union flag by adding gold trim around the edges of the St George cross. It has never been used as an official flag.

Neither has the red saltire, or cross of St. Patrick. It was once unofficially used to represent all of Ireland but after the split came to be more associated with the south. Northern Ireland has no official flag of its own. The Ulster banner, a kind of George Cross with red hand, is often used to stand in, but this was in fact only the flag of the former Northern Ireland government. Another proposal being put forward is a combined cross of St Andrew and St Patrick, a kind of union flag without the English, intended to represent the mixed Scottish and Irish ancestry of the province. It is bound to cause controversy and unlikely to catch on.

Welsh IS British, silly!: former hurdler Colin Jackson

Politics and vested interests run through sport like buses down Princes Street: frequently, noisily and blocking sensible moves in the right direction. In these days of constitutional confusion when neither we ourselves, nor foreigners know if we’re British, Welsh, or European, there seems to be less and less that binds we ‘Brits’ together. It may well be that our varied and separate identities, in an arena as stirring as competitive sport have contributed to the unravelling of the bonds of union we are now witnessing in the political sphere. Or perhaps the confusion over our sporting identities is symptomatic of the fact that it was never going to work anyway.

Unique among countries we can switch between identities as we wish. Scottish for football, British for tennis. English for cricket, British for the olympics, Welsh for rugby, British for warfare. Certainly we have been innovators, inventing most of the world’s favourite sports. Whilst we waited for the world to catch on the home internationals were the only internationals, giving rise to the sporting sectarianism that still persists on our little archipelago. The first football international, Scotland v. England, was played by 22 enthusiastic Victorian gentlemen on 30 November 1872 at the West of Scotland Cricket Ground, Glasgow. It was a goalless draw, but the outlook seemed promising. The match report gushed “A splendid display of football in the really scientific sense of the word, and a most determined effort on the part of the representatives of the two nationalities to overcome each other.”

The annual football friendlies (the Home Championship and the Rous Cup) were done away with years ago due to crowd trouble. The rivalry got acrimonious and in the wake of the Heysel and Hillsborough disasters our image abroad could not take any more battering. Nowadays England are as likely to take on Kazakhstan 3,500 miles away in Almaty as to risk a trip up the M74. There is talk of reviving the home internationals in the near future, but with a difference. The Four Associations Tournament will, rather like the Magners League, include the Republic of Ireland, but not England. One hopes it will be a success but the question remains, if we won’t play together how united is the kingdom?