Boyd for England!

In 1947 a young – and highly gifted – Argentinean turned out for his country for the first time, and according to his autobiography it was a moment of great pride for him and his family. Unfortunately he only ever achieved six caps for his country, yet his career had not been cut short by either horrific injury or an unsympathetic coach.

In 1949 the same young, talented player turned out for Colombia, and played for them for a total of four games. He failed to add to his six goals on the international stage.

By 1957 this still excellent player was earning his first cap for Spain, for whom he played thirty-one times and scored twenty-three goals. He has never made any attempt to deny one important thing – he was earning much more money playing for Franco’s two teams (Real Madrid and Spain) than he ever had anywhere else.

Move forward fifty-odd years, and it appears that the Nacho Novo case is attracting unusual amounts of attention, as well as the usual knee-jerk cries of “racist!”

SIMON OR SIMONE?

Even for people who don’t remember di Stefano’s playing days, there are many examples of people playing for other countries including Owen Hargreaves, who was born in Calgary, which is apparently in Alberta (my knowledge of Canadian geography is sketchy at best) and Simone Perrotta, who was born in Ashton-under-Lyne, Greater Manchester. Ashton-under-Lyne could never even be described as cosmopolitan, and is as English as they come. And if you need any more convincing, take a look at wor Jackie’s Irish team.

Of course Hargreaves is the son of an English couple, and Perrotta was the son of Italian parents and grew up in Italy from the age of six.

This issue certainly isn’t confined to football. If you look at the table tennis teams entered in the Olympic Games, it seems that almost every one has a Chinese name. Funny that. Johann Muehlegg – as Spanish a name as any I’ve ever heard – was a gold medal-winning cross-country skier who was revered by the Spanish. Until he failed a drugs test, that is, at which point he was comprehensively shunned. As Brenda Fricker once said, “When you win the Oscar you’re British, but when you’re lying drunk in an airport you’re Irish”.

SPANISH BLOOD, SCOTTISH HEART

I totally agree with the many complaints about the fusty suits and ties that govern a game which should belong to the people. I imagine that the SFA is the same archaic old boys’ club as the English FA or the famously incompetent FAI. I also sympathise with the worries about racism and the relevance of laws such as those created because of the Bosman ruling.

I am aware that the years of unbroken residence would give Novo a British passport as opposed to a Scottish one, and I understand that the respective national associations don’t want to give FIFA any excuse to start on about a British team. (We obviously need to continue with the present England-Scotland-Wales format in preparation for the inevitable and well-deserved devolution of power. We’ll talk about the Six Counties some other time.)

And I certainly don’t care where people come from or where they ply their trade.

However, let’s set aside the law and political correctness and look at football.

Surely the point of an international – national – fixture is having eleven home-grown players against eleven of the same. You want to be able to identify with your players, who could have grown up in your town and speak the same lingo (figuratively) as you. In these modern times of multi-cultural societies it doesn’t matter if they are black when the Scottish are traditionally white and it doesn’t matter whether they are Muslim when the Scottish are traditionally Christian – but I reckon the fans will want the players to at least be Scottish.

Any doubts about that – look at how Brazilian Deco is treated by the Portuguese.

GALIZA – UNHA NACIÓN, UNHA SELECCIÓN

And as for Nacho Novo – sit him down in front of a Spain-Scotland match (or a Galiza-Scotland, which is much more to the point in this argument) and see what happens. I’m sure that he’ll be cheering the Irmandiña on before the game has even started. After all, he’s never played for Spain any more than he has for Scotland, but he has played for the Galician national team.

And now that we’re at it, put an Englishman in the Scottish team and see what happens!

The fans already complain about the lack of commitment of the players – how is a Spanish person expected to sweat a Scottish shirt as much as the fans want him to? How could Almunia or Cudicini ever give their all for England against Spain or Italy? I admit that they would want to try their best in order to impress the coach that never picked them, but at the end of the day, blood will out. Unless it’s true that modern players really are the mercenaries that people believe them to be, and will give their all for the same wad of cash that so motivates Ashley Cole.

CLUB OVER COUNTRY

I actually don’t care about international football. I rarely watch England games, and never watch other countries. The European Championships bore me to tears. The World Cup only interests me as long as whichever minnow I happen to be supporting is still playing.

These matches have totally lost the magic they had when I was a kid. Perhaps it’s because I hate rivalry between countries and flags and the inevitable skinheads and their archaic drivel about “the war”. Maybe it’s because of the succession of awful England teams and worse England managers over the last twenty years. I used to believe the hype. Not any more.

Maybe it’s simply the result of my growing disillusion towards football in general. Why should we follow a bunch of ignorant millionaire prima donnas? Why should we continue to follow teams that have very little connection either with their working-class roots or indeed the communities which have nurtured them for over a century?

And what’s the use of supporting “England” if the players aren’t English. Come to think of it, what’s the use of supporting Manchester United if the players aren’t Manc?

Come back the Lisbon lions!