Inter spem et metum

It’s amazing how many of the things I don’t like in people I see in myself from time to time. I do at least two of these:

*Leap to conclusions
*Make generalisations and base action on stereotype
*Blame other people for one’s own mistakes
*Neglect hand washing after going to the toilet
*Demand paper evidence trails that no-one will read
*Sneer and/ or be aloof
*Eat with mouth open
*Eschew debate
*Impose dogma on those too young or uneducated to think for themselves
*Drive like an idiot
*Get involved in a multi million pound people and drug trafficking ring
I could go on but one last one for now is:
*Go on about stuff ad nauseum

It’s funny too that out of all of these the one I’d least like anyone to think of me is the not washing hands one. Just to make things clear: I wash my hands almost compulsively. This includes after I have shaken hands or received something from someone who ‘looks the type’ to not wash his hands (and it’s usually a bloke).

So, I happily chastised myself as I approached Valley Parade yesterday for my first visit to the home of Bradford City. I only realised I had assumed a bastion of white working class fat blokes in ill fitting club shirts when I saw one of those mini caravans of children snaking its way along the road to the football ground. All the kids were asian and they were being led (and marshalled from the back) by a group of youthful lads from a range of ethnic backgrounds. I shared their smiles as I drove to within 400 yards of the ground and still managed to park.

I got in cheap because I was lucky enough to bump into a guy that wanted to offload his daughter’s ticket. Stupidly, I didn’t make a note of the seat number so had to hang around the bars and pie shops until kick off when, I thought, I’d be able to spot an empty seat and park myself there. This extended period under the stands enabled me to engage in a bit of amateur anthropology and, yet again, I was delighted to see my prejudice shattered by frequent clusters of mixed groups: Asian and white men chatting about the Liverpool/ Everton game and black guys with thick Bradfordian accents spitting pie crumbs over mates as they talked about the likelihood of a City win. Of course, the crowd was nowhere near as diverse as the local demographic but it’s a start and all seemed positive.

At kick off I took a seat but then had to move when its season ticket holder arrived. He needed extra space for his armful of pies so I shifted a few rows back rather than along. This happened twice more until I settled on a seat which was still empty 15 minutes into the game. An obviously pissed bloke arrived at about half three and sat next to me. I was in his son’s seat but that didn’t matter as his son was doing something else. This bloke was chatty and liked the fact that it was my first game there and that I wasn’t ‘too fucking stuck up like most cockney bastards’. Things were going OK til he said to me: ‘you chose the right stand mate- all the pakis sit over there.’ In an instant he shattered my new found faith in common decency, brotherly love etc. and simultaneously (as I merely muttered ‘Dunno what you’re talking about’ and turned my back on him) made me feel crap for not standing up and smashing his beer soaked and pie filled face in.

One thing is for sure though: top of my list of things I don’t like is that kind of bigotry, especially when it’s coupled with an assumption that I want to buy into it because I’m white.