In the battle of men and balls, played on the burning grass, fine men of ebony skin and fine men of ivory skin played interchangeably and racelessly, side by side, in a carnival of physical English oneness and noble brotherhood. In the process six magnificent race-blind goals were scored, proving once and forever that race has never existed, nor need it to ever exist on our sacred English shores that welcome all creeds, colours, religions, and non-religions.
There was even a tricky moment in the second half, when the sheer interchangeability of English racelessness threatened to expand itself and engulf even the Iranian players on the field of dreams to create a seething, writhing blob of human muscle, limb, and gristle, mixed with hopes and aspirations. But luckily the referee blew his whistle at the right moment and the game continued with two teams instead of one.
There was even a tricky moment in the second half, when the sheer interchangeability of English racelessness threatened to expand itself and engulf even the Iranian players on the field of dreams to create a seething, writhing blob of human muscle, limb, and gristle, mixed with hopes and aspirations. But luckily the referee blew his whistle at the right moment and the game continued with two teams instead of one.
It did not matter that five of the six England goals were scored by men of the duskier hue, while only one issued from the boot of a paler individual. These six raceless goals -- taken as one indivisible whole -- proved once again that England is a country like no other, defined by its tolerance and diversity; a country that fought bravely in two World Wars and one World Cup to dance on the grave of the nonexistence of race.
In fact, England and its sweaty brotherhood of toilers on the bending turf is so raceless that it has lost all notion of race, like losing your housekey when you come home shitfaced on a Friday night and having to climb in through your own window.
Yes, England, we salute you. What is race to a nation like ours? This humble contest amid the shifting dunes of Qatar, small in itself but mighty in its ramifications, proved once again that talent and hard work are all that you need to rise to the highest levels of our raceless meritocracy.
There is no need even to take the knee, a crude and divisive American symbol that defeats its own purpose by assuming that race exists and must be denied. It does not! Our English genius has proved this once again. It is even unnecessary to don the gay rainbow armband. Our mighty raceless lions have proved once again how blind we all are to race, and how truly gay we really are.
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