How to be a fanatical England supporter who only got into it last week

SUDDENLY discovered a deep love of football now that everyone else is into it? Here’s how to be extremely annoying about it.

Pretend you’re an expert on football

Make confident but bland and meaningless statements during matches, eg. ‘Kane needs to break through the defence’ or ‘I don’t think anyone wants it to go to penalties’, as if you are wise old Gandalf explaining Middle Earth to naive little hobbits.

Look like a twat

Others may simply enjoy the footie with a good few pints. Not you. Paint your face so you look like something out of Braveheart, buy a variety of cynically overpriced England tops, and get a massive St George flag for your home, so your neighbours are unsure if you just like football or might be a potential far-right terrorist.

Keep singing that f**king song

Many football followers are a bit weary of the 1996 Baddiel/Skinner/Lightning Seeds dirge, but for you it’s fresh and new. Sing it at every opportunity. It will never become irritating.

Learn a few basic football facts and keep repeating them

It could be that Jack Grealish is considered a promising new talent, or Johan Cruyff was one of the great players. This stuff is the bread and butter of football fan conversations so no one will actually notice it’s quite tedious.

Massively emotionally overreact

Any minor success by England should make you leap out out of your seat screaming ‘COME ON!’ while punching the air. If we lose to Italy, instead of just going home from the pub disappointed, sit there sobbing inconsolably as if you’ve been made redundant, your partner’s left you and your dog’s been run over, all at the same time.

Immediately lose interest

After the brief emotional rollercoaster of England in the Euros, swiftly move onto a totally unrelated pastime, eg. learning to play the clarinet.

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LOCKDOWN has been tough on selfish dicks, but that’s about to change. Here Norman Steele explains how he will be enjoying his new freedoms.

No more table service in pubs: twats first at the bar

Now we can go back to the good old system in which I barge my way to the bar and brandish a credit card while making impatient noises. Then I’ll put in a massive order with loads of questions and changes that keeps everyone else waiting for 15 minutes.

I will use common sense about when and where I can spray my mucus

For too long I have felt my mucus has been cancelled at the Post Office, on the bus and train. It’s like you can’t say or cough anything these days. No more. Thanks to Boris Johnson I am at last unmasked and can spray my oral output freely.

I won’t have to do my bollocks management job from home

I need to be on a crowded train in rush hour, shouting into my phone at Roger, Kimberley and the rest of my colleagues. If that causes infection we’re going to have to take it on the chin because important sales managers like me must be allowed to operate freely. If the bodies pile high so be it.

Unmasked, I can reveal myself for what I truly am – a total cock

All this talk of ‘thinking of others’ is a form of fascism. But we shall no longer be muzzled by a thin blue layer of disposable fabric. I can finally be myself again – an inconsiderate, disease-carrying, spluttering dickhead.

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