Football

Paul Mason wasn’t the only England fan celebrating last night’s World Cup win over Colombia but he is perhaps one of the more surprising. The journalist-turned-left-wing-revolutionary was pictured with St George’s crosses emblazoned on both cheeks taking to the streets of south London. https://twitter.com/paulmasonnews/status/1014259782096687109?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw But Mr S. was somewhat surprised to see Mason's apparent change of heart. After all, this is the same Paul Mason who wrote in the Guardian in 2015: ‘As an English person I would like to declare up front: I do not want to be English’ After being asked to explain this, Paul Mason helpfully clarified on Twitter: https://twitter.com/paulmasonnews/status/1014264132818829315?

On Monday evening, I watched a man in a smart shirt and trousers put his friend in a headlock while bellowing at the top of his voice. In the central London pub I was in, guttural roars filled the room; the floor shook with people jumping up and down. A few minutes later and a few hundred yards away, people – well, overwhelmingly men – flooded on to Tottenham Court Road to stop the traffic and share their emotions with drivers. They didn’t just hail them from the pavement; they stepped in front of cars until they decided each driver had witnessed enough of their ritual. This happened because Harry Kane had scored an injury time winner against Tunisia in England’s first World Cup group game.

England kick off their World Cup campaign today by putting their faith in youth as they take on Tunisia: Gareth Southgate's squad have the lowest average age and the fewest caps won of any of the 32 teams at the tournament. Only three of the squad – Gary Cahill, Ashley Young and Jamie Vardy – had even been born when Gazza’s tears captured a nation’s hearts at Italia ’90. Yet while the team's youth has been the subject of much hype, another factor about this England squad has not captured any headlines: this is the most ethnically diverse squad that England has ever taken to the World Cup.

I am all for taking ethical stands, but if you are going to do so it does help to show a little bit of consistency.    Today, Argentina cancelled its World Cup warm-up game against Israel in protest, it seems, at Israel’s occupation of the West Bank.   According to striker Gonzalo Higuain, the players ‘have done the right thing’ in refusing to play – and have been warmly applauded by the Palestinian Football Association. So, the Argentinians will miss out their proposed stop in Israel and proceed directly to the World Cup in, er, Russia.

I must have missed the memo when it became compulsory for major football matches to operate as a marketing opportunity for the game’s marquee players, but that was what we got at Kiev after Liverpool were outmuscled and outplayed by a flinty-eyed Real Madrid. After Ronaldo announced that his time at Madrid was in the past, then our very own Gareth Bale, he of the annoying man-bun and sublime skills, in a rather graceless piece of scene-stealing, decided to ask for a transfer. Live on TV. Well, you do the math. He is on £300,000 a week (or £600,000 depending on who you trust), but assuming someone somewhere has to come up with a lot of loot. In a timely coincidence, Bale’s remarks come just as an excellent book is published by my friend Jon Henderson.

In this week’s issue, the Spectator reveals that the government is planning a significant yearly increase in the NHS’s budget. But, Lara Prendergast asks in the podcast, isn’t this the £350 million a week bus pledge? And how will the government pay for this (00:40)? We also talk about the difficulties in modern adoption with Prue Leith (15:30), and finally, we talk to Martin Tyler and Mark Palmer on whether this year’s World Cup, held in Russia, is set to be the most political ever (26:35). One of the most infamous images of the EU referendum campaign was that bus. The one which promised £350 million to the NHS each week if we were to leave. Many thought it fantasy, but is that promise now coming true?

Every now and again my Tube ride to work on the District line is enlivened by children on a school outing. Presumably they are heading for the Science Museum or possibly the National Gallery. Often, they have different coloured badges stuck to their jumpers. As far as I can work out, if, for example, you are a red, then you’re meant to sit with other reds, and sometimes the teacher barks instructions such as: ‘Could the reds try to be a little quieter please?’, or asks: ‘Blues, how many more stops until we get there?’ This last question gives rise to a piercing shriek as a dozen or so blues shout out their answers, sometimes coinciding with the doors opening at Fulham Broadway, giving commuters just enough time to rush off in search of a child-free carriage.