Come on you whites

One of the most disappointing features of the England performance in the West Indies was not so much the efforts or skill of the team but the complete wit and originality of the not-very-Barmy Army. I was expecting many happy hours of boozy insults, witty one-liners and clever chants. Bit like a football match. Sometimes. Instead, apart from the tremendously inventive ‘Jimmy, Jimmy Jimmy Anderson’ and the depressingly derivative ‘Roooo’ for Root the best they could offer was the morning ritual of the first few verses of Jerusalem.

For the most part they sat around in stolid inebriation. How odd it is that the flags and favours worn at the games are for football teams, not an MCC tie to be seen; a group of Sunderland here, a depressed bunch of Scunthorpe fans there - all jealously guarding their flags draped along the perimeter. ‘It’s against protocol to cover a banner’ said one aggrieved West Brom fan when one of our group covered it with a West Indies flag. 

So; cricket lovers as football fans or vice versa. Strange. Still, I was able to catch up on the latest Portsmouth score. Pompey 1, York City 1. I knew where I’d rather be.