Boo Rooney, boo the system, boo injustice
When England fans booed Wayne Rooney’s name as the teams were announced on Saturday afternoon, it was before he’d even kicked a ball. They booed him again later.
But this isn’t another piece about Wayne’s form, his stats, head merkin, or anything else to do with Mr R playing football. Not really. It’s all gone beyond that now.
Why was he booed? One of the reasons is that Rooney is both literally and emblematically an example of how many people see life is in 2016; a life that is unfair and unjust, a life where a tiny, undeserving rich elite seem utterly insulated against failure and pay no consequences for doing a bad job, a life where those people can underperform for weeks, months and years, still be massively over-rewarded and still have respect demanded for them by the various lackeys who do their bidding. Meanwhile, others have to queue to be searched before leaving work, in case they’ve stolen some of that absolute tat that the company makes, in order to try and make up for the rock-bottom wages they’re paid. That dichotomy lives in our hearts in 2016.
So, boo.
The discontent with Rooney is born out of the mismatch between status, wealth and performance. Wayne seems lovely. But he’s a rich man in a poor man’s shirt. To watch someone doing what he does for that money, while 60% of the country have under £1000 in the bank. The People’s Game? And you want us to play nice? Nah. No thanks.
So, boo.
In a land where nearly a million people on zero hour contracts have to hang around every day hoping for a phone call so that they can go to do a job for a pittance of pay, a million-a-month failing footballer just hoovers it in and is defended for doing so time and time and time again by Proper Football Men, people like Glenn Hoddle, and a whole raft of others who seem blinded by the financial white light emanating from Rooney.
So, boo.
Time and again the Proper Football Men have tried to tell us black was white in order to excuse Rooney’s poor performances. They have tried to mitigate his every disaster and frankly, the paying public is sick of it, in the same way they’re sick of being told we have to suffer economic austerity, by those who will never do so. So the booing is an act of rebellion, not merely against the footballer, but against the status quo and the culture within which he exists. A culture where greed is good and anyone who objects to it is dismissed as merely jealous, as though we can’t see a bigger picture. As though we have no humanity.
So, boo.
But also rolled into Rooney’s ball of sour wax is how statistics have been used and abused to ‘prove’ his worth to club and country. This echoes the commonplace experience of hearing a bullsh*t politician who twists figures to prove how brilliant everything is, despite the evidence of life before our own eyes. The politician who tells us how much better off we are now, even though there’s a food bank on every corner. And the feeling that we’re all being shafted by a mixture of the stupid and the mendacious, and that everything we strove to build that was open, inclusive and positive is being torn down my fools and villains, is evidenced all around.
So, boo.
Rooney, and top-flight football more widely, is presented to us as both the silver apples of the moon and the golden apples of the sun. But it’s not true. Is a dream a lie if it doesn’t come true, or is it something worse? The vaunting of Wayne embodies the lie. A conceit devised to enrich a tiny elite, but blind and impoverish the rest of us. This is the world we live in.
Is it fair on Rooney to use him as an emblem for an immoral economic system and set of cultural values which dehumanise? No. But then being a million-a-month footballer who often cannot control a football with two touches could be said to be a far worse shade of unfair. And let’s face it, he can at least afford the therapy to deal with the emotional trauma, whilst one in four struggle with mental illness, untreated by a failing NHS (not supported because of tax avoidance schemes signed up to by, amongst others, footballers) but brought on by the stress of poverty and the pressures of a society which is increasingly punishes you for being weak.
So, boo.
Scratch the surface, take away the hypnosis of winning games, and there is a fundamental infuriation and increasing bewilderment as to why footballers are so well-remunerated despite poor performances. It feels like an insult to us, who after all, in one way or another, rightly or wrongly, are responsible for this stupid wealth. Those who defend it will tell you that you can’t be brilliant all the time, and of course that’s true, but these stratospheric wages seem based on the fact that you can be. There is even more money available in the form of win bonuses, but no penalty for not being any good.
It’s also true that we’re all consumers now, as opposed to fans. We’re customers of the FA. The triumph of the politics of individualism, which champions the consumer as the holy woman or man of society, is so all-embracing and innate that anyone questioning whether you should be booing or not will say “I’ve paid my money, I’ll do what I want” and in that, they have drank deep from the philosophy which said there was no such thing as society. We are all islands unto ourselves. But then, when the super-rich, like our footballers, are busy protecting their vast income in tax avoidance schemes, tax which would improve the collective welfare, at no real cost to themselves, who can blame any of us from feeling this is where we are now? Too much is never enough for the rich, while too little has to be enough for the rest of us.
So, booooooooooo!
See, that’s the trouble with international breaks, the hypnosis wears off and it gives you time to think. And when you do that, you end up realising that we want to tear the whole bloody thing down and start talkin’ ’bout a revolution. You don’t have to be Walt Whitman or Bruce Springsteen to believe that, in the end, no-one wins, unless everyone wins.
So, boo.
It’s not wrong, it’s all too right.
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John Nicholson