Land of Hope and Glory

Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope is Wayne Rooney.

Halfway through The Shawshank Redemption Morgan Freeman’s Red looks up at the newly imprisoned Andy Dufresne. Driven to cynicism by his seemingly endless incarceration he drawls, in his inimitable way, “Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane”. It is an enticing philosophy: better to live in the emotionless vacuum of hopelessness than dream and have those dreams destroyed by crushing reality. Normally, I would agree. Normally, I revel in boundless cynicism, building barriers of sarcasm and pessimism which mean any event can be met with a wry smile, a knowing shrug. Yet maybe we live in a World which needs a little more hope. Once we had politicians who promised us the stars, dared to dream that we could build Jerusalem in England’s green and pleasant land. Now they are preoccupied with the imaginary evils of immigration, haunted by visions of invading Romanians who never actually come, and seemingly we lap it up. After all, recent elections prove that about a third of us are racist – and according to UKIP the other two-thirds are Sharia espousing Islamic fundamentalists. Hope died in the elections last week. And now, the final straw, we are told we cannot even hope against hope for England to win the World Cup. The one misguided dream we all share every four years has been shattered by the incompetence of our players and a culture in which we fear the worst, rather than pray for the best. No more. The time has come to dispense with fear and seize the hilarious, naïve and misjudged hope which only football can bring. England can end the hurt. England can win the World Cup. Roar.