Turncoat Wankers – pull the other one
In the world of philosophy there is a concept visited by many such as Hegel, Derrida and Lacan that has attempted to understand the existence of the Other and the self and the necessity of one in order to complete or define the other. But the Other is always compromised, because the Other person is other than the self and the group. The logic of otherness is especially negative in the realm of humanity and human geography, wherein the native Other is denied ethical priority as a person with the right to participate in discourse with an empire who decides the fate of the Other.
The world of football lives for this concept, hell it lives in this concept. Diehard supporters are for the self and their fierce rivals are the epitome of the Other. We are not them and they not us, what they are not is what we are and vice versa. But what of one who traverses the divide. What are they to be called?
To put it simply, they are the Turncoat Wankers. The Turncoat Wanker, or TW for the interest of brevity and keeping the article largely PG, has existed from the beginning of competition. In love and war the TW always shows up, plays both sides and has little regard for either the self or indeed the Other. Outside of love and war, and focusing more on football, who are these TW and how serious are their crimes.
Chief among them, step forward Mr Declan Rice. Last summer he swapped one side of London for the other, but his true crime and example of his turncoat wankery occurred in March of 2019 when he swapped his three Irish caps for a life in the mediocrity of the midfield of the great enemy – England. In May 2017 upon receiving his first call-up to the boys in green he said “My family are so proud. I just wish my nan and grandad could be here to see it because they are from Cork and this training camp is in Cork, so it would have been lovely, but unfortunately they are not here.” Another comment then came in March 2018 – ‘There’s no decision to be made. If I didn’t want to be playing for Ireland, I wouldn’t be here’ he claimed. Interesting comment from a former winner of the FAI U-19 International Player of the Year award. Within a year he was donning the white shirt of the enemy, never to look back.
There are others, of course. Luis Figo, Sol Campbell… But Rice is the ultimate Turncoat Wanker.
The Boiling Frog
There is a beauty to the urban legend of the boiling frog – simply put, it is an apologue describing a frog being slowly boiled alive. The premise is that if a frog is put suddenly into boiling water, it will jump out, but if the frog is put in tepid water which is then brought to a boil slowly, it will not perceive the danger and will be cooked to death.
The death in question hasn’t occurred very recently. In fact the water has been simmering for years, but the sudden realization of this death occurred recently, during an online game of whatever it is FIFA is called these days. Your humble narrator losing heavily as is the norm, asked his friend to pick someone useless to give a better chance of an equal game. ‘Fine he says, I will go with Ireland’. The online communication system went very quiet, before a very confused competitor broke the silence with a heart-breaking ‘who the fuck are these lads?’.
Yes, the death that has occurred is that of Irish international football. From the inside it was never clear how bad things had become. One would fool themselves into believing it is just an international window, or two. “We just need to get rid of Kenny” – that will get us back to where we were. But suddenly the water is boiling and all around us are Will Smallbone and Finn Azaz. Who? Indeed.
In Ireland you could tell what generation someone hailed from depending on the tournament they most fondly remember the county’s national team striving in. For the 50/60-somethings it was Italia ’90. Christ if Ireland weren’t the best team in the world, the best maybe not, but the stars were there to see. Ray Houghton, John Aldridge, Packie Bonner, Mick McCarthy…
The latter of course was responsible for the next generation, the 30/40-somethings and the glorious campaign in Japan and South Korea back in 2002. To this day this generation still have a side to pick in the Keane vs McCarthy debacle, and everyone knows exactly where they were when the other Keane put the ball past Oliver Kahn and sent Ireland into the knockouts. Two World Cup tournaments ended without defeat.
The final generation had less to cheer about, but cheer they could nonetheless – France 2016. In a Group of Death (™) with Sweden, Italy and Belgium, the boys in green somehow managed four points by drawing with Sweden and beating Italy and with that, a passage to the knockouts. The screams of ‘Bradyyyyy’ still echo the minds of the 20/30-somethings of Ireland.
But that is no more. Now, without a manager (at the time of writing) and with a whole pile of ‘who the fuck are these lads’ coming through the ranks, it is difficult to see the Irish national team ever arise from its death. This frog is well and truly cooked.
Prepare to be Whelmed
The question has been on everyone’s lips since the great man joined – how do you follow a manager like Klopp? It seems very easy, if the multitude of technical directors FSG and Liverpool now employ are to be believed. You basically pick someone nobody has heard of, better still, the second best someone nobody has heard of. ‘Let’s go to The Netherlands’ – maybe they will hire the current PSV coach Peter Bosz, who has blown all data and statistics out of the water this past season – no! Not him. The other, other, other bald Dutch guy.
The guy who, at the time of writing is six days into his new job, and has yet to speak. He has yet to lean on anything in the training facility. No gaudy scarf or jersey and certainly no press conference.
Following probably the most quote-filled opening press conference from a newly appointed manager in recent years, the normal one reigned supreme – the quotes kept coming, nine years of quotes to be precise, but how do you follow the best manager in generations at Liverpool? Well we will simply have radio silence.
In a world where we can be both under and overwhelmed – the situation has left a rather mediocre feeling of being.. Whelmed.
Heart of Football 
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