Majorityrights Central > Category: Sport

My old friend Morgoth has posted a timely video to his Odyssey account on the question of whether, amid this crazy push to have our daily life-experience Africanised to the max, we loyal and aware Englishmen should watch or otherwise support the highly Africanised England Football Association squad in its attempt to win the 2020 UEFA European Football Championship, commonly referred to as Euro 2020. 

Morgoth makes an operationally sound case for purity of principle and the outright refusal to watch England’s matches, which now means the final on Sunday.  But it is his critique of the political right and its effective acceptance of the white players’ sickening taking of the knee, as well as the multiracialisation of Gareth Southgate’s team, which most caught my attention.  Morgoth dismisses the typical excuses and explanations of the political right as an attempt to wriggle away from the pain of their own submission to the conventions dictated to them by the Establishment.  He may be correct about that - I cannot judge because I do not expect nationalist reflexes from non-nationalists.  All sleepers are equally lost in reverie.  Some ... the right-wing ones ... are actuated by the modern religion of the petty self.  Some ... the ones on the left ... by the postmodern religion of racial self-contempt.  None are really responsible for their own immersion in Time and Place.  They are not properly conscious human beings and they do not possess the means to defend their emotional and intellectual integrity from harm.  Only nationalists can do that.

I haven’t found a way to embed Morgoth’s video on this platform.  But the URL is:

https://odysee.com/@MorgothReviews:5/BLMEnglandSquad:e

... and I recommend listening to what the man has to say in own words.

That said, I want to add some thoughts of my own.  Actually, I want to take a somewhat personal wander around Wembley’s hallowed turf, and in the dark of the night take a couple of illicit practise pens.

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        Portugal’s Euro Cuck representation 2016 ...and France’s offering..

In a disgraceful epitome of displaced masculine nationalist instinct, millions of Europeans cheered-on their cuckoldry as two predominantly African mercenary teams pretended to represent European nations in the ultimately identifying sporting event of Europe.

Or does this, in fact, represent what these nations have become?

True White Nationalists must have a look at their inclination for sheer objectivism and universalism; it is destroying the very idea of nationalism and its representation as mercenaries are drawn from the four corners of the globe with the argument that they are “better.” But even if they are better in some instances, how can you feel good about people so different from you, winning and losing “for you?” What do you even know about yourself in that instance but that you are a cuck! What the cuck, European football fans, European “men”, you are idiots to stand for this!

       
First a trickle then a flood: The French team in 1984 had just the one colored guy (save perhaps Roman Polanski in the upper right).

Though Portugal has long been the European nation with the highest percentage of African admixture, it would be represented by having perhaps one Mulatto on the team and nowhere near a “representation” like this.
           
Tearful Latino lady-boy Ronaldo was out early with a sore knee, but still darker cuckpatriots picked up the slack for “team Portugal” to win The Euro Cuck 2016

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Kermit Alexander’s punt return for nearly a touchdown suddenly crystallized several factors of my burgeoning masculine identity (I was only 9) and bonded it strongly with the Los Angeles Rams in a moment on Monday Night, October 26th 1970.

I was not completely oblivious to the fact that he was black nor even entirely without trepidation for the long term implications of siding with blacks - just a few years before it was Malcolm X who said that blacks were going to rule me, which of course I did not want - there were the black riots which burned Newark and killed some dozens in 1967; and there were the “chocolate nurses”, whom I naturally did not identify with, and did not like, but surrounded me in the hospital when I was admitted for my tonsillectomy.

Oh, perhaps I exaggerate the exhilaration, elation and importance of this moment of Monday Night Football, under the spotlights which gleamed off the Rams and Vikings cool, streaking helmets, but I think not - even though it was but one moment and episode among a mass of factors which would misguide me for a few teenage years into mis-identification. I was devastated that the Rams were stopped in that episode on the goal line against the Vikings - The Vikings, who had been to the prior Super Bowl. But I was now hopeful and determined that “we” could play with them - and furious that my parents made me go to bed; miserable to wake up to find the Rams lost.

The Vietnam war, where men were expected to die, feminism, that blamed men for everything, my family’s communicologial craziness and what was already society’s (((the media and academia’s))) anti-White prohibition against White identity, its crowning of blacks as what we now call the “untouchables” and Jews as taboo to even wonder about, let alone criticize.. some context and quite difficult for a boy hard programmed to like girls: yeah, I was starting to like girls, but of course not wanting to be deterministically beholden, at this point, to this situation - with all this context going against my identity and the need by contrast to identify with people who were on my side and who’d fight hard; given the hostility of my family and society, I needed some socially sanctioned identity, on my side, with those who’d fight.

NFL Films were a significant part of constructing a riveting identity, i.e., my entrancement into undue sports rooting in my teenage years.

Jack Snow sprinting for a touchdown in N.F.L. Films

Lets continue with the topic of sportsfanship, how we might illustrate and redirect the illusionary escape of illusionary observational objectivity and diversionary identity. It’s an important matter, leading to a cuckold identity if, as a habit, not broken (thankfully, I did).

Furthermore, by examining the romanticizing and compelling role that NFL Films play in identity creation, we might be able to take a few of its ideas for the building of our own identity creation.

Let’s examine the films then and a little more of what could lure one into sports enthusiasm during teen years and beyond. It is a fanaticism that we could rather use to fight on behalf of our own peoples.

Los Angeles Coliseum

The coaches, adults, were all business and made this seem like serious business

In sunny California, Hollywood, manly battle took place in cool uniforms..
.
Appreciation

Snow (number 84) was one of my favorites ...they actually had White wide receivers in those days - they were good, too.

The officials made it official

The timing had something to do with it, sure. As I’ve said elsewhere, the early 1970’s were a time when the Vietnam war was ending, the relaxed communal sense of Being being extended to White men was giving way to feminism - could be rabid, White man hating, feminism. My older sister was a cold feminist, when not a searing hot feminist, when not a disconcertingly light, breezy and trivializing feminist; my mother, when not having some sort of catharsis for herself through a breakdown and drinking, was usually hostile; if you knew my father, you could have some sense of why she was that way. I’m over that, and its not my point to complain, but to state the fact of why I needed some vicarious identity - which could neither so easily be had with my family nor with my (((diverse, multicultural society and its programs of forced integration.)))

OK, so, I was ripe for some escapism and masculine aggressive identification - a quasi serious thing, treated seriously by adults.

At the same time, through programs of school “integration”, by the school year of 1970 my homeroom teacher was black, and there were plenty of blacks in the integrated class of my local elementary school. But in 1971-72, the integration program bused me to Nishuane, a mostly black school - and a nightmare.

Again, this wasn’t long after Malcolm X declared that “the Honorable Elijah Muhammad said that the black man would rule” and not long after the black race riots in 1967 burned the nearby town where I was born, Newark; while it was taboo to take an identitarian stance against even saying anything about that, even then.

I’ve already mentioned a Bobby Murcer home run in September 1971 and the compellingness, the soothing reliability of baseball statistics, but there was something even more immediately mainlining into the older parts of the brain of the sports thing - NFL films.

I’m sure this kind of thing hooked many a kid, not just me.

In this I got a program, maybe what we’d now call a site, to identify with the venting of my spleen, my rage, will to action, to run, to identify with a tribe, to bask in the glory and to identify with, well, actually, White guys…..and we could share in widespread appreciation that was not forthcoming, personally, i.e., whereas we might otherwise not be given much support in identity (((to say the least))). In this quasi-identity, with our masculine strength alone and mere uniforms distinguishing teams [the players did not even come from the towns that “they played for!”] we could at least assimilate fighting for an identity together, not against our own - quite unlike my family, my (((American society))) and my Europe.

“The fearsome foursome”, Deacon Jones, Merlin Olsen ...the cool uniforms, winning ways, Roman Gabriel, exotic Los Angeles. I could identify fiercely with them. On Monday night, October 24 1970, my parents let me stay up late….almost..I got to see Kermit Alexander’s exhilarating punt return….the Rams were stopped on the goal line just before halftime. I was broken hearted, but optimistic that they could play the Vikings, they could win. I didn’t want to be torn away from the TV but my parents would not let me stay up..

I wasn’t paying attention to his race in that moment, he was on my side, my team

That moment set off an adrenaline rush as lights gleamed off streaking helmets, followed by the frustration of losing to the Vikings, a threatening team in uniforms just as cool as the Rams. From the cold north, men in Viking helmets came to play men in Ram helmets. Fascination set in.

It is something of a challenge to provide alternatives to young White boys to the visual appeal and action of sports like football which blacks can do well (similar as the challenge of black musical ability and audio appeals, it even has some addictive properties).

I would remain fiercely loyal to my side and could not tolerate losing, fairly bad though Rams records were compared to the late 60’s and what was to come in the 70’s; even though the Vikings just about always got the best of them in the playoffs - and in excruciating manner.

In the 1974 playoffs, not only did White Rams fans suffer the indignation of having their team headed by one of the first black quarterbacks (And I didn’t like it. Quarterback, the helm leader, was always a firmly White position), but they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory against the Vikings, again thwarted at the goal line.

       
After starting hemmed at their own goal line, the Rams went the full length of the field to the Vikings goal line, where Harris threw an interception and the Vikings reversed fortune.

The Rams had a first down on the Vikings’ one-yard line at the time. The penalty made it second and six, but quarterback James Harris threw an interception into the end zone on the next play and the Vikings eventually won, 14-10.

       
James Harris, one of the first black N.F.L. quarterbacks, helps the Rams to lose again to the Vikings in the 1974 playoffs.

Full Episode: In 1974, the Rams should of played the NFC Championship game against the Vikings in 70 degree Los Angeles instead of -12 degree wind chill factor Minnesota. Both teams were 10-4, and the Rams had won their one regular-season meeting. Until 1975, however, the NFL rotated playoff sites, and it was the NFC Central’s turn to play host to the conference championship game. Forget about it being the NFC Championship game, name me any game that a team goes over 99 yards and gets no points and loses by 4 points. OVER 99 YARDS!!! That doesn’t happen in Pop Warner. This is what happened. In the 3rd quarter, the Vikings hold a 7-3 lead. A punt pinned the Rams inside their 1-yard line, but we moved out of danger to their 25. Then Harris hit Harold Jackson for a 73-yard gain. Jackson should have scored, but he was nudged out of bounds by Jeff Wright at the Vikings’ 2. One play later the Rams were less than six inches from a 10-7 lead. But Harris, who could have fallen forward for the go-ahead TD, switched to a long count.The refs said Hall of Fame guard Tom Mack flinched, costing the Rams five yards. Two plays later, linebacker Wally Hilgenberg intercepted Harris’ tipped pass in the end zone. The Rams had gone 99 yards and produced no points. We lose by 4 points. The Viking curse.

In 1976 the Rams got thwarted on the goal-line in the playoffs against the Vikings once again.

In the 1976 playoffs, the Rams returned to the dreaded frozen north for another NFC title game. The temperature at kickoff was nine degrees.

The cold didn’t seem to bother the Rams, who drove smartly down to the one-yard line, but then their luck—and maybe their confidence—froze. Knox sent wide receiver Ron Jessie on an end-around to the right, where Jessie was met at the goal line by a pack of purple defenders.

“He scored on the play,” McCutcheon said. “I saw the ball over the (goal) line, in the end zone. They spotted the ball like on the one-inch line.”

The Rams had cause to feel an ominous chill at that moment.

“We still had a couple of more plays to get the ball in,” McCutcheon said. “I think he (Knox) called a quarterback sneak with (Pat) Haden and some other play I can’t remember.

“That was really disappointing because we were one inch from the goal line, and that was the year we were running the ball so well—25-Lead, 44-Lead. I thought at that time we would certainly want to get the ball to one of our backs—preferably myself.

“I couldn’t believe the quarterback sneak. So (on fourth down) we decided to go for the field goal, and they block it and take it back 99 yards.”

Actually, it was only 90, but old Rams still have nightmares of Viking Bobby Bryant scooping up Tom Dempsey’s aborted field goal attempt and racing toward the other end of the field. Jack Youngblood was so heartsick after the game that he couldn’t talk—literally couldn’t talk—for 15 minutes

While in 1977 it had been meteorological frustration, surprisingly, on the home turf…

               
The 1977 “Mudbowl” stuck the erstwhile viable Rams in mud and loss to the Vikings yet again

Coming back to the onset of my enmeshment in this identity in 1970, I had wanted to identify with black Deacon Jones and was glad when his fearsome play was on our side, but I couldn’t quite - I thought that he looked weird. I wanted rather to identify with Jim Bertelsen, Jack Youngblood, Fred Dryer, Roman Gabriel and Jack Snow.

Yet just another few years before I’d had fantastic temper-tantrums when having my tonsils out. I did not like the chocolate nurses.

I plead innocent besides - how was I to know who Kermit Alexander was and what he could come to mean to us… why should I believe that adults would let this happen, when what was happening by way of blacks was so obviously bad in terms of their hyper-assertiveness.

Who’d want to live with these people who burned Newark, made things so ugly, but nevertheless had the nerve to say that they’d rule us?

Unbeknownst to me, this was the football season following the Super Bowl (IV) played by the first majority black team - The Kansas City Chiefs. That is to say nothing, of course, of my nine year old awareness (lack thereof) of the (((egregious forces and purposes))) behind the 1964 Civil Rights Act, The 1965 Immigration and Naturalization Act, and the 1968 Rumsford Fair Housing Act…

My father told me that the Chiefs would “three-point-them (the Vikings)-to-death.” Place-kicker Jan Stenarud (3) and quarterback/holder Len Dawson (16) were a few of the minority of Whites on the Super Bowl winning Kansas City Chiefs - already, in 1970, a majority black N.F.L. football team, albeit the first one.

Whites playing the objectivist game gamely, but upended by first majority black team, Kansas City Chiefs, in Super Bowl III, January 1970.

By 1972 the war was ending and feminism, no longer constrained by the double standard of the (male only) draft and with it, the background need to grant some leeway to male protest for Being, came unhinged. I needed vicarious male identity more than ever.

Action against the San Francisco 49ers

N.F.L. Film’s style captured attention with Yoshi Kishi’s innovative editing, John Facenda’s deep voiced, stern narration and Sam Spence’s riveting music: With slow motion, fast motion, varied shots, bustling action and music, music of burly combat, “Sunday with soul” - that music so compelling to the emotions of a kid who wants his identity ultimately dramatized, ranging from the toughest, the most earnest quest, manly American quest, epoch exhilaration to dark, grim, wide ranging venture, and heartbreaking sympathy, “the game that got away” - while husky voiced narrators, John Facenda and Pat Summerall in particular, embellished the seriousness of it all. The music here, during minute 1:12 - 2:20, as background to a Redskins - Eagles game, is particularly intriguing: here it is by itself - “undercover man” - one of my favorite among these Sam Spence and William Loose tunes. “The Horse” was not included among NFL film songs, but was/is a marching band staple along the sidelines of high school games that achieves much of the same sentimental effect. And there was that Monday Night Football intro music.

...another compelling tune to add to the collection - starting second 017.

If GW wonders what Hitler had going for him to excite a stadium and crowds in the street, well he certainly had something going for him, he must have, because he didn’t even have war action going on at the time, let alone some of the things that the NFL has to draw-in and compel mass allegiance..

But while NFL Films served to seduce, corrupt and divert my identity for some time from better pursuits, it is also worth talking about how we might perhaps use some of its techniques to deploy to our cause.

At least it was something that people were paying attention to. It was not merely the moment when Kermit Alexander’s fast twitching muscle fibers sprinted toward the end zone ..it was that and much more..

Tommy Prothro, with grim adult discipline and sacrifice of hours of training before the glory of the fans arrive.

Fans

Cheerleaders and marching bands

There were massive stadiums packed with fans, pageantry, marching bands, cheerleaders…

Paul Brown, the mature display of serious business when the masses of fans did arrive.

Here they were, the L.A. Rams - an opportunity for the requisite, more objective identity for me: they were from far away Los Angeles, with a team that was coming out of the 1960’s with great records and an awesome manly reputation. My older brother told me that they had the “The Fearsome Foursome” - their defensive line featuring Deacon Jones, Merlin Olsen ..later Fred Dryer and Jack Youngblood ..with their cool names, add quarterback Roman Gabriel to that regard. They had the coolest uniforms too.

Helmet

Fred Dryer

Jack Youngblood

Jack Youngblood about to lower the boom

Fred Dryer making a sack with Youngblood in hot pursuit.

Roman Gabriel, a very cool name for the quarterback playing for the Rams in The Los Angeles Coliseum..

Roman Gabriel

Roman Gabriel vs Vikings in ‘70

Concern

Action vs Minnesota Vikings

Roman Gabriel vs. Minnesota Vikings in 1972

The Fearsome Foursome inveighs against The Philadelphia Eagles

While Youngblood (85) was my favorite on Defense…

Jim Bertelsen (45) was my favorite on offense..

Jim Bertelsen


Jim Bertelsen bolting past Atlanta Falcon defenders.

Now let’s step away from the Pattern, the Relationships and come back to the Episode and the Kermit Alexnder Moment…

The Moment in 1970

The Episode in 1970 - actually two episodes in succession: punt return; and then goal line stand.

Goal line stand episode begins with the Rams in huddle

Sportsfanship in that Episode..(they look like girls sent by mom to church choir practice).

..and see how the Relationships and Patterns of White objectivism unfolded, especially in (((context)))...

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Our football coaches were not Marxists imposing integration with blacks.
Rather, they were objectivists imposing integration with blacks.
                                           
Consider “the great football coach”, Vince Lombardi, and his indignation with regard to “racism.”
Vince Lombardi was not a “cultural Marxist.”

Vince Lombardi’s Unprejudiced nature

In 1960, on at least one team, a color barrier still existed in the NFL. But Jack Vainisi, the Scouting Director for the Packers, and Lombardi were determined “to ignore the prejudices then prevalent in most NFL front offices in their search for the most talented players.” Lombardi explained his views by saying that he “... viewed his players as neither black nor white, but Packer green”. Among professional football head coaches, Lombardi’s view on discrimination was not de rigueur in the midst of the American civil rights movement.

  An interracial relationship between one of the Packer rookies and a young woman was brought to the attention of Lombardi by Packer veterans in his first training camp in Green Bay. The next day at training camp, Lombardi, who had a zero tolerance policy towards racism, responded by warning his team that if any player exhibited prejudice, in any manner, then that player would be thrown off the team. Lombardi, who was vehemently opposed to Jim Crow discrimination, let it be known to all Green Bay establishments that if they did not accommodate his black players equally as well as his white players, then that business would be off-limits to the entire team. Before the start of the 1960 season, he instituted a policy that the Packers would only lodge in places that accepted all of his players.

...

                                         
Forward 1986:                  “Hall of famer,” James Lofton

.. woman claims Lofton forced her into the stairwell next to the elevator at ground level and forced her to perform a sex act - L.A. Times

The same objectivist paradigm that flouts “equality” may insist on integration of “the best” on objective grounds.

Perhaps because I was never immersed in Marxist/Leftist literature, but rather was repulsed by radicals, their advocacy of non-Whites in particular, repulsed enough to be averse to embracing even their better critiques, I never saw “equality” as an issue one way or another.

But even though it may have had something to do with not circulating among Marxists or immersing in their literature, I never really heard many “leftists” or anybody, for that matter, talking about wanting “equality.”

It has been rightists who have been overusing opposition of this term, adopting this paradigm and its blueprint for disaster - setting matters into false comparison and necessary conflict/dominance-subordination, whereas our concern for separatism is to be negotiated* in qualitative terms of differences that make a difference (qualitative non-sameness, paradigmatic incommensurability as opposed to inequality).

*“Negotiation” more in the sense of ‘negotiating an obstacle’ than in trying to reason with people, though we will do that too where our interests are yet to be violated.

Coming back to “the point of the day”, objectivism and its most pointed corollary of turning issues into quantitative comparisons - equality/inequality - is what our football coaches were going by - not cultural Marxism - when they considered it unthinkable that blacks should be kept off the football team and eventually, that the cheerleaders should not cheer them on…and couple with them:

                  Interracial marriage proposal flaunted at 2012 Super Bowl half-time

Runaway objectivism, its “rational” blindness flouting “equality,” is a load of race mixing poison that our right wing brings to the equation. This part of the blame derives disproportionately from a susceptibility of our ranks, not only or even mostly from Jews, though they have exploited it from the days of Christianity through the Enlightenment’s prejudice against prejudice, to “civil rights” and anti-racism.

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Eight years ago the Italian team were an exemplary squad of specific native European nationals. Each victory of theirs could be a matter of legitimate pride in integrity by contrast to shame the swarthy objectivism on display by Europe’s non-representative teams. Tournament victories culminated in the Italian’s poetic World Cup Final revenge over a perverted France squad of mercenary Africans.

...for the 2014 Italian squad each victory is a loss of integrity.

Spitefully pronounced as “Italy’s Mario Balotelli” by Counter-Currents

And a comment in that regard from Counter-Currents:

Frederick Dukić
Posted July 17, 2014 at 2:45 am | Permalink

Question: “What part of Italy is he from?” +FD

Answer: He is from the North of Italy, no doubt - it is clear by his blond hair.

Germany’s Boateng, ‘man of the World Cup Final.’ Which part of Germany is he from?

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Competition’s authentic value as opposed to its having been the most overvalued, misinterpreted biological fact of European Peoples’ interests (thank you Mr. and Ms. Dumb Bastard, Right-Winger).

This will not be a rigorous piece, rather it is meant to shed some light on a few important considerations by moving them through the terministic screens of a personal history. The issues taken into consideration are the over-valuation of competition - which corresponds closely with boiling everything down to equality/inequality being the problem, that is, the stupid right-wing position of being against “egalitarianism” - to the detriment of other methodological concerns in evaluation of qualitative identity.

Objectivism results in a susceptibility in Europeans to having their enemies shift close genetic identity into objectivist individualism and liberalism, leading to their adopting an array of absurdly affected, non-European identities. While there can be many such diversionary sub-identities, such as student/teacher of a particular non-European study at university, universalism, eastern mysticism, religion, of course, even foreign cuisine, any full treatment of diversionary identity must address sub-identities in music and sports – these will be a predominant theme here as I am familiar with them as identities, strongly held, yet come to recognize where they were more or less diversionary from European identity, quasi identities and competitions to be set aside in favor of more authentic identity.

It should not be too hard to provide facts and numbers as to the impact of these competitions and identities on European people, nor that these can significantly diminish our resource of European identity. Nevertheless, while youth in particular may be susceptible to such diversionary competition and identity, these activities also model means of identity, social participation and evaluation in determination of authenticity which do not necessarily entail violent conflict, immediately lethal, zero sum results – which we should be particularly concerned to keep to a minimum within European genus and species.

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A few weeks ago Luis Suarez, a Uruguayan footballer currently overpaid by Liverpool Football Club, thoughtfully provided anti-white activists everywhere with a golden opportunity to jump up and down about “racism”.  He said the word “black” in his own language to Patrice Evra, an African footballer currently over-paid by Manchester United.  Evra is known for playing the race card from time to time, and he duly obliged.

The result for Suarez, perhaps inevitable given the Football Association’s keen desire to demonstrate its anti-racist credentials to the world, was an 8-game suspension and £40,000 fine.

This was not expected for so slight an incursion of orthodox speech requirements.  There is dissent, particularly from the direction of Liverpool. 

In a hard-hitting statement released in the wake of the ruling by a three-man commission, Liverpool made a set of claims that they believed showed that the judgement of the three-man commission, and conduct of the FA, was flawed. It amounted to one of the most strident attacks on the governing body by a member club in recent years and puts the two organisations at loggerheads.

In a series of criticisms – some aimed at the three-man commission of Paul Goulding QC, Denis Smith and Brian Jones – the club claimed that Suarez’s fate had effectively been decided before he was even first interviewed about the events of the home game against Manchester United on 15 October.

The club said: “The FA was determined to bring charges against Luis Suarez, even before interviewing him at the beginning of November.”

The Telegraph has run a reader poll today.  The current vote total stands at 13,278 of whom 48.72% declare the FA’s verdict “completely wrong” and a further 18.65% “too harsh”.

That’s a good enough sample size to suggest that such sentiment must extend well beyond the “right-wing” Telegraph readers.

Meanwhile, the paper’s editors were forced to close the Suarez-related comment threads as the anti-anti-racist commentary flowed.  They completely disappeared the thread to one new article with just a dozen comments posted, suggesting a certain desperation.  We are at a point where anti-racism holds sway as never before across the Establishment.  But it is also now losing its intimidatory power over the white masses.

The dissonance ought to grow quite naturally.  But, unfortunately, another footballer - the England captain, no less - has transgressed against orthodoxy much more spectacularly than Suarez.  That will certainly set back the prospects for undermining anti-racism in England.  It is difficult, though, to see how the English public - not a stranger to contempt for authority - can be held in check by anti-racism forever.

The MultiCult played itself in the opening Group C game of World Cup 2010 this evening.  The result was a one-all draw, which was suitably egalitarian, I thought.  Both teams were equally unconvincing, too, which is only fair when you think about it.

Apparently twenty-three million people in the MultiCult in England thought it was worthwhile experiencing this equality in real time.  But I don’t know, somehow the build up to the whole event just hasn’t grabbed me.  I can’t think why, because quite a few people have tried very hard to enthuse me.

“Umbro’s stirring anthem for a multicultural England” gushed the headline of Kanishk Tharoor’s piece in yesterday’s Guardian, praising an anti-English ad by a sportswear and equipment manufacturer.  At every level, British bien pensant journalism, and not just British journalism, has been in overdrive for the last month, at least.

Some of the commentary is beyond parody:

It made anyone with tactical knowledge of football wonder why South Africa didn’t make the obvious team change and put Nelson Mandela in goal. I know he was too frail to open the tournament but he’d only have to lie there on the goal line. Who would possibly have the audacity to score past him? Even if the ball accidentally went near him, a Mexican striker would have felt obliged to dive and catch it, preventing his own side from scoring and getting sent off for deliberate handball.

Truly, World Cup 2010 is proving a sink-hole of journalistic integrity.  And as with the magical Mandela, so with the South African Bantu in general - people, we are told, so brim-full with salt-of-the-earth goodness, and so overwhelmingly excited to be “hosting” this event, yes excited, I tell you, in that simple green, gold and black doggy way that liberal journalists naturally expect of Africans, and thoroughly approve of, well, it goes without saying that we are required to “celebrate” with them (the Bantus, that is) … feel good for them … hope with them that their long wait (15,000 years, but who’s counting) for “change” (white man’s stuff) and “justice” (white man’s stuff) is somehow all over now.  It isn’t but we have to believe, you see.

This, apparently, involves smiling along with all the happy Bantu teeth crowding in on the camera lens, as bright in the African sun as light-bulbs in the Blitz.  We should also try without any success whatsoever to emulate that embarrassingly unselfconscious, drop-of-a-hat bump ‘n grind thing that Africans do whenever someone clobbers a piece of stretched animal skin twice.  And, of course, we must admire the clobbering.  Such rhythm.  It’s in the blood , you know.  Not that I meant to imply in any way that they are, you know, less cerebral than anyone else.

No, it’s all trade-mark, feel-good MultiCult stuff.  Those happy, happy Bantus, hey?  How did we ever feel so exquisitely guilty without them?

However, there is one minor downside.  The more the liberal media shove all this journalistic excrement down our throats, the more weary of it some of us become.  Well, not me obviously, because I was sick to death of it years ago.  But in general and on average, as a rule, people who aren’t Bantus and aren’t liberal hypocrites just can’t stick with the picturesque, lovable thing long enough, not when the reality all around them is so, er, different and, for not a few, so tragic.

So any moment I am expecting rainbow overload and thought-direction burn-out.  I am expecting absolutely nothing in the way of “change” and “justice”.  All that has gone to the ANC elite.  I am expecting that the MultiCult will not win the game.  It will lose everywhere on the pitch, because it is built on lies.

Oh yes, and both Argentina and Spain, one of whom will undoubtedly emerge in one month from now as the real winner of World Cup 2010, are white sides.