millionreasons | Two more than you

It’s kinda strange being out and about when England are playing. The roads are empty; glum bus-drivers get people to their destinations in a rush-hour record. After the flat-viewings, I try to go into a pub, but they’re packed to the gills. I stand in the doorway of a fish and chip shop staring at the TV, until the owner starts staring back at me. The cries and sighs from the open windows of Multicultural Camberwell give no indication of whether England or T&T are triumphant. Back on the bus, a woman with a London accent says: “I’m African, but I’m supporting Trinidad. I wouldn’t support England, they’re rubbish. At work, they lay on breakfast but as soon as England are out, we don’t get it anymore. They stop wear their England t-shirts as well.” Outside, a small boy of Chinese extraction runs around excitedly in a Lampard replica shirt. No Crouch shirts, no, not yet. Finally, a man on a mobile confirms the 2-0.

On the tube is a geezer in a St George’s cross top and tracky bottoms with a shaved head. He is reading The Tempest.