THE PRESTON PATRIOT
I went to a couple of St George’s Day celebrations years ago and they made me wince, because they were bordering on xenophobic. They’d bring these big roasts out, salute them and saw them up, before getting people up to rant and rave about what England meant to them. That’s all fine in theory, but what they thought England should be was like a vision from the 1960s. England has moved on, it’s a multicultural country now, just like almost every country in western Europe and the developed world. When it comes to most things, I’d argue that personal opinions can’t be wrong, because they’re personal opinions. But racism and xenophobia are just wrong, end of story.
England shouldn’t still be defined by a couple of wars we won in the early twentieth century or by whiteness, we should recognise that people from all over the world enhance the country. Nothing is going to change, the world is a global village, and has been for decades. I liked the fact that when I was growing up, my dad had mates from India, Pakistan and the Caribbean. I’m lucky in that from an early age, I never saw colour in the same way a lot of people my age did and I thought a multicultural society is what England should be. I’ve never been able to get my head around how anyone could automatically regard someone of a different colour or nationality or religion as problematic. The nice thing about kids is they don’t even see any differences.
I think it’s a shame that people aren’t proud of being English. I think you can reject all that jingoism and suspicion of foreigners and still be a ‘good’ patriot. I’ve never really considered myself to be European, which is what a lot of people started saying they were after Brexit kicked off, and I see myself as English rather than British. That’s not because I don’t like Europe or the other countries that make up Britain – and I wanted to remain in Europe – it’s just because I’m proud to be English, which is probably connected to the fact I represented England at cricket. It makes me sad that our manufacturing has collapsed and you can’t buy much that was made in England any more. I’d like to be able to buy things from England. I don’t think that’s narrow-minded or bigoted, that’s just natural, because it’s good for all English people. Even having to make excuses for being proud of being English now. That’s how it is, and it’s ridiculous.
I don’t like it when people knock England, just as I don’t like it when people knock Lancashire or Preston, because it’s where I’m from. When I go back to Preston now, I feel a real sense of belonging. Recently, I was doing some filming on my old estate and I felt right at home. I got chatting to these kids who were pulling wheelies on their bikes, the sort of kids a lot of people would avoid, just because of the way they look. They were great, nothing like the way they’re stereotyped, and talking to them made me quite nostalgic.
I think it might be slightly different if you’re from a northern town, because different towns and regions down south don’t tend to have their own accents, they’ve all merged into one. I don’t think I’ve got much of a Preston accent any more. I noticed that when I was chatting to those kids on the estate and Natalie in the chippy, I didn’t sound like them at first. But I soon slipped back into it, so much so that it became a bit of a struggle for the southern film crew, that was for sure. However, you can travel 20 minutes down the road, to Bolton or Wigan or St Helens, and the accent will change completely. That gives you a real sense that you’re part of a community with its own identity, shared past and traditions, separate from anywhere else.
Parts of Preston might not look that promising, with each estate looking like the next, and I know some pretty dodgy stuff goes on there. But at least everyone knows and looks out for each other. I’ve met my next-door neighbours in Cheshire, but I don’t know anyone else on my road. And people don’t really look out for each other in Cheshire, they mainly want to tell me how fast their car goes or where they’re going on their holidays. In Preston, you can have normal conversations with people. It’s not superficial, people ask you how you are and what you’ve been up to and you can tell there’s a genuine interest. When I was still drinking, I’d pop into a fancy bar and get looked after really well, but only because they thought it was nice to have someone vaguely famous in the place.
I don’t speak French or Italian, so I don’t know if French people or Italians spend all day on social media slagging off their own countries. But they can’t be as bad as English people. Americans love being Americans, Aussies love being Aussies, Kiwis love being Kiwis. And I guarantee that you will never meet a Scottish or Welsh person who feels uncomfortable about being proud of their country. They celebrate being from where they are. But if you read some of these comments on social media, you’d think England was the worst country in the world.
A lot of it stems from guilt. We spent a few hundred years conquering other countries and building this massive empire and, unsurprisingly, it didn’t go down too well with many of the locals. And now that’s come home to roost. We caused so much chaos and suffering that it’s now seen as problematic to celebrate Englishness. I can totally understand that, because I read about some of the things the English did and think, ‘Jesus, what the hell were they thinking? How could they be so horrible? Who thought it was a good idea to rock up to Africa and make people slaves?’ But it wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with the subjugation of India or the Opium Wars with China. And it wasn’t just the English, it was French, the Spanish, the Italians, the Germans, the Belgians and just about every other country in western Europe. That’s what European countries did back then, went around nicking other people’s lands.
When someone asks me what it means to be English, I find it difficult to answer. English culture is a slippery thing because we’re so diverse now. But I think it’s a good thing that English culture is difficult to describe, because that suggests it’s dynamic and always changing. And if I had to say what the best thing about England and Britain was, it would be its inclusivity. I’ve been to a lot of places that cling onto their culture and national identity, to the exclusion of newcomers. I wouldn’t want to live in a country like that. I went to Oktoberfest in Munich and couldn’t believe how white it was. It made me feel uncomfortable. We had an Asian lad as part of the production team and people were staring at him. Then they’d look at me as if to say, ‘You’re one of us’, and I’d be thinking, ‘No, I’m not!’ That’s the thing about Germany, they’re a very proud country and retain a lot of their old traditions, despite the part they played in the Second World War. They don’t seem to be embarrassed, and that was less than 100 years ago. Maybe that’s because they lost? Maybe the fact we won is a problem, because it means people keep going on about it and wanting to define us by how we were in the 1940s, and other people are turned off by that.
I suppose it’s about finding a balance: retaining old traditions while managing to incorporate the traditions of immigrants. Food is a great example. For years, England and Britain were famous for having bad food. Even in the 1990s, French president Jacques Chirac was making jokes about British food being the worst in the world – apart from Finnish. But London is now one of the world’s gastronomical hotspots. That’s because we started with a blank slate. Now, we’ve got the lot: traditional British food that has been made sophisticated, and food from just about every country in the world. In Spanish cities, for example, it’s mainly Spanish food. That’s great if you want to eat Spanish food all the time, but it’s not so great if you don’t.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to know whether you’re allowed to like certain historical English figures or not. Every country has historical figures that are problematic by modern standards.
I’ve been to Buckingham Palace and met the Queen, and while I wouldn’t say I was overwhelmed, it did make me feel special in some way. I suppose that feeling was pride. But was it pride at my personal achievement or pride at doing what I did for my country? It’s difficult to say. But that was the Queen, who is an amazing woman. She’s tiny but has an aura like no one else I’ve met.
I can understand why a lot of people think the royal family are a waste of money. Let’s face it, they haven’t exactly been covering themselves in glory these past few decades, and now we’ve got Prince Harry resigning and Prince Andrew being accused of all sorts and claiming it can’t have been him because he doesn’t sweat and was having dinner in Pizza Express in Woking. They’re in a bit of a pickle, no doubt about that, but I don’t agree with getting rid of them. They bring so much money into the country, in terms of trade and tourism, that we should keep them for financial reasons, if no other. People say we could get rid of the royal family while keeping the palaces and parks and what not, but how would that work? What about all the money that gets made when one of them gets married or has a kid? And what would be the point of Buckingham Palace if the Queen didn’t live there? It wouldn’t make sense. Then again, when the Queen goes, that will be the turning point for a lot of people. Say what you like about the Queen, she’s kind of impossible to hate. But Charles comes with a lot of baggage and is not everyone’s cup of tea.
Funnily enough, I met Meghan a few years ago. I’d had a massive night out and was sleeping off my hangover on the sofa in my agent’s office. He came in and said, ‘Right, you have to get out now, I’ve got a meeting with this girl off Suits.’ I found a sofa in another office and saw her walk in with a press pack and some books. Apparently, Richard had to say to her, ‘I don’t know what I can do for you.’ But it turned out she had bigger fish to fry.
I even felt awkward singing ‘God Save the Queen’ before matches, although that was mainly because we’d have to do it at 10.30 in the morning when there were only about 50 people in the stands and everyone could hear me. It’s not as if I didn’t like the anthem, I just thought it was unnecessary for a cricket match. In America, they sing it before everything, and if anyone doesn’t stand up or put their hand on their heart, people think they’re wrong ’uns. And I’ve seen plenty of people start crying when they’ve won a gold medal at the Olympics and their country’s flag is being hauled up the pole. But that was never going to be me. I’m patriotic and could get a bit emotional, but I was never a blubberer. That was fine with me, because some of the people who did put their hand on their heart and get a bit teary weren’t patriotic, they just looked it. When I started playing for England, we were rubbish. We shouldn’t have been, because we had some good players. But a more selfish group of players the world has never seen. They weren’t patriots, they were narcissists. Patriotism is about playing well, so that the England team win.