As he left the pitch following England's vastly disappointing 0-0 draw against Algeria last night, Wayne Rooney turned to a television cameraman walking beside him and, his voice dripping with sarcasm, said to the watching millions at home: 'It's nice to see your home fans booing you. That's what loyal support is. For fuck's sake.' Verbally abusing the nation's travelling supporters - most of whom have paid a high four-figure sum to be there. That's smart, even by Rooney's own unique standards. It's particularly smart when it's made on the back of a performance that, frankly, should make being booed the least of Wayne Rooney's worries right now. The comments, of course, instantly made Wayne Rooney a trending topic on Twitter - and most of the resulting opinions generated were, perhaps unsurprisingly, negative in the extreme. But then, as we all know from experience, there's nothing that people appreciate more than being told how they should react when presented with something substandard. Most people, genuinely, have a very low tolerance threshold for being told what to think. For once, my sympathies lie with the gormless bellowing skinheads up on the terraces rather than the gormless bellowing skinhead down on the pitch. The shit hits the fans, indeed.
Having changed into his nasty suit, Rooney marched out of the stadium all in a huff afterwards without commenting further to the eager press corp, their tongues literally hanging out of their mouths at the prospect of a further 'Roo Savages Fans' outburst from the player. But, according to the Independent, he is likely to be ordered by Capello and the FA to apologise for his outburst, and may possibly be fined too. Personally, I think he should be on the first plane home. I know that he's our best player (last night's performance notwithstanding. Everybody's allowed a night off. And, last night, everybody had a night off). I know that, without him, England are a very, very ordinary team indeed, not even the 'quarter finals and not much more' side that we have been for the last couple of decades. I know that he was 'disappointed' and 'upset.' I know that some people may even agree with him, in a roundabout way, that overly negative criticism does nothing to help a team low of confidence and playing poorly.
But, I really don't care about any of that. I care that a footballer seems to believe he is above criticism from the very people who, in theory at least, pay his - not inconsiderable - wages. The second that a player (especially one earning a reported one hundred and fifty grand a week) has a go at his supporters (especially those who have paid huge amounts of money and taken time off work to travel halfway around the world for the dubious privilege of seeing their side draw with Algeria) then it's time to start talking about ultimate sanctions. In that one single - possibly career defining - moment, Rooney (a world class player, let it be said, although one with a not always occasional tendency towards rank idiocy) lost any right or expectation to have a single one of England's supporters in the stadium stand behind him. They were the words of a petulant child told to stop eating chocolate and throwing a tantrum; of a sulky Harry Enfield-style Kevin The Teenager being criticised for his laziness and chucking his toys out of his pram. 'You're always picking on me, it's SO unfair.' You need to grow up, Wayne. Many people said that you needed to grow up four years ago when you stamped on a Portuguese lad's knackers in your temper. They said you needed to grow up just ten days ago when your mouth almost got you slung off in a friendly match by a referee who doesn't appreciate being sworn at by someone half-his-age. You've had it easy. Too easy. It's all been laid out on a plate for you since you were a teenager. It's our own fault - as a society - in a way as much as it is yours, we've pampered you and flattered you helped to build this fluffy little world of cosy sycophancy around you and your wife; lining up interviews with arse-licking journalists in which your silly, utterly worthless, opinions on pop music, television, fashion and bling are eagerly devoured and somehow, taken as some kind of definitive statements on life. You're a footballer - a damned good one when you put your mind to it - but you're not Jesus. You're not above criticism and, if you think you are, then you need to reminded, in a way that is both public and staggeringly over-the-top, that you're not. As an example to others if nothing else. Rooney even appears to have lost the tabloids, for better or worse the best signifier of the mood of rank and file England supporters. 'No wonder they booed you, Roo' was the Sun's headline this morning. It's not the only one. Hell hath no fury like a football supporter discovering that one of his idols has feet of clay.
As an England supporter, obviously, I like to see my team winning and playing well (in that order, if anyone's wondering). And, even if they're incapable of either, at least showing a bit of passion and heart about what they're doing. One of the things that has defined just about every England performance at a major championships for which they've qualified since 1970 is that usually the manner of their finally going out of the competition has contained that element of 'glorious in defeat,' however illusionary that may have been. It's mostly been by the odd goal (sometimes there's been a bit of controversy about the legality of one of them) or, even more often, it's been on penalties. It's a staggering fact but the last time that anyone beat England by more than a single goal at a World Cup or a European Championship finals was in 1962. That doesn't make us good, of course, it just makes us tough to beat. But then, so are Switzerland. So, as they proved last night, are Algeria. I think, as I've believed most of my adult life, that England's reputation as sort of perpetual second-round-to-quarter final team at World Cups is about right. And, to be honest, I'm quite comfortable with that. Somewhere between sixth or seventh and eleventh or twelfth best team in the world. That sounds about right to me and history bears that out. We're at that level with teams like the Netherlands, France, Mexico and Spain, the odd win of a major tournament here or there but, mostly, a lot of 'close-but-no-cigar.' I don't mind that. I'd like us to go further, sure, but I've got no real problem with a second round defeat at the hands of Germany. After extra time. On penalties. And, I expect England probably will just about do enough against Slovenia on Wednesday afternoon to qualify. What I won't accept is a player representing me and sixty odd million others who seems to think that it's our fault he's playing rubbish. I think you need a new mind, Wayne. The one you've got is narrow and closed and full of diarrhoea.
Having changed into his nasty suit, Rooney marched out of the stadium all in a huff afterwards without commenting further to the eager press corp, their tongues literally hanging out of their mouths at the prospect of a further 'Roo Savages Fans' outburst from the player. But, according to the Independent, he is likely to be ordered by Capello and the FA to apologise for his outburst, and may possibly be fined too. Personally, I think he should be on the first plane home. I know that he's our best player (last night's performance notwithstanding. Everybody's allowed a night off. And, last night, everybody had a night off). I know that, without him, England are a very, very ordinary team indeed, not even the 'quarter finals and not much more' side that we have been for the last couple of decades. I know that he was 'disappointed' and 'upset.' I know that some people may even agree with him, in a roundabout way, that overly negative criticism does nothing to help a team low of confidence and playing poorly.
But, I really don't care about any of that. I care that a footballer seems to believe he is above criticism from the very people who, in theory at least, pay his - not inconsiderable - wages. The second that a player (especially one earning a reported one hundred and fifty grand a week) has a go at his supporters (especially those who have paid huge amounts of money and taken time off work to travel halfway around the world for the dubious privilege of seeing their side draw with Algeria) then it's time to start talking about ultimate sanctions. In that one single - possibly career defining - moment, Rooney (a world class player, let it be said, although one with a not always occasional tendency towards rank idiocy) lost any right or expectation to have a single one of England's supporters in the stadium stand behind him. They were the words of a petulant child told to stop eating chocolate and throwing a tantrum; of a sulky Harry Enfield-style Kevin The Teenager being criticised for his laziness and chucking his toys out of his pram. 'You're always picking on me, it's SO unfair.' You need to grow up, Wayne. Many people said that you needed to grow up four years ago when you stamped on a Portuguese lad's knackers in your temper. They said you needed to grow up just ten days ago when your mouth almost got you slung off in a friendly match by a referee who doesn't appreciate being sworn at by someone half-his-age. You've had it easy. Too easy. It's all been laid out on a plate for you since you were a teenager. It's our own fault - as a society - in a way as much as it is yours, we've pampered you and flattered you helped to build this fluffy little world of cosy sycophancy around you and your wife; lining up interviews with arse-licking journalists in which your silly, utterly worthless, opinions on pop music, television, fashion and bling are eagerly devoured and somehow, taken as some kind of definitive statements on life. You're a footballer - a damned good one when you put your mind to it - but you're not Jesus. You're not above criticism and, if you think you are, then you need to reminded, in a way that is both public and staggeringly over-the-top, that you're not. As an example to others if nothing else. Rooney even appears to have lost the tabloids, for better or worse the best signifier of the mood of rank and file England supporters. 'No wonder they booed you, Roo' was the Sun's headline this morning. It's not the only one. Hell hath no fury like a football supporter discovering that one of his idols has feet of clay.As an England supporter, obviously, I like to see my team winning and playing well (in that order, if anyone's wondering). And, even if they're incapable of either, at least showing a bit of passion and heart about what they're doing. One of the things that has defined just about every England performance at a major championships for which they've qualified since 1970 is that usually the manner of their finally going out of the competition has contained that element of 'glorious in defeat,' however illusionary that may have been. It's mostly been by the odd goal (sometimes there's been a bit of controversy about the legality of one of them) or, even more often, it's been on penalties. It's a staggering fact but the last time that anyone beat England by more than a single goal at a World Cup or a European Championship finals was in 1962. That doesn't make us good, of course, it just makes us tough to beat. But then, so are Switzerland. So, as they proved last night, are Algeria. I think, as I've believed most of my adult life, that England's reputation as sort of perpetual second-round-to-quarter final team at World Cups is about right. And, to be honest, I'm quite comfortable with that. Somewhere between sixth or seventh and eleventh or twelfth best team in the world. That sounds about right to me and history bears that out. We're at that level with teams like the Netherlands, France, Mexico and Spain, the odd win of a major tournament here or there but, mostly, a lot of 'close-but-no-cigar.' I don't mind that. I'd like us to go further, sure, but I've got no real problem with a second round defeat at the hands of Germany. After extra time. On penalties. And, I expect England probably will just about do enough against Slovenia on Wednesday afternoon to qualify. What I won't accept is a player representing me and sixty odd million others who seems to think that it's our fault he's playing rubbish. I think you need a new mind, Wayne. The one you've got is narrow and closed and full of diarrhoea.
