In what can only be described as a national humiliation served with a side of wasabi, Japanese football fans have once again been filmed tidying stadiums after a match, using bin bags as if they were tactical nappies for a giant, litter-strewn baby. The footage, which has gone viral for the seven thousandth time, shows supporters of the Samurai Blue picking up crisp packets and empty beer cups with the quiet efficiency of a ninja who has just been told his mother-in-law is coming to stay. The British tourism board, meanwhile, has released a frantic statement urging Britons to 'consider not throwing kebab wrappers at pigeons' in a desperate bid to salvage our reputation as a nation that does not live in a skip.
The irony is so thick you could spread it on a crumpet. We are a country that invented the vacuum cleaner, yet we treat our public spaces like a urinal at closing time. The Japanese, who have never knowingly left a chopstick out of place, make us look like we are collectively raised by wolves who have been taught to drive tractors through hedgerows.
I have seen cleaner scenes in a regurgitated vindaloo. The tourism board's plea, which reads like a hostage note written by a desperate PR executive, suggests we all 'pick up one piece of litter' before leaving a stadium, as if we are five years old and learning to tie our shoelaces. Cue the inevitable argument in the comments section: 'But what about the workers?
' 'It's the council's job!' 'I paid for my ticket!' Yes, and presumably you also paid for your own toilet paper, but I bet you don't wipe your arse with a fiver and leave it in the cubicle.
The Japanese fans do not clean because they are paid to; they clean because they have a concept of communal responsibility that was apparently left out of the British curriculum in favour of teaching us how to queue aggressively. I have seen more social cohesion in a flock of seagulls fighting over a chip. The comparison is not merely embarrassing; it is a clinical diagnosis of our national soul.
We are the toddler who has smeared jam on the walls while the Japanese child quietly folds his laundry. The tourism board might as well erect a sign at Dover: 'Welcome to Britain. Please mind the gap, the litter, and the existential despair.
' Perhaps we could learn something from the Japanese, like how to bow politely instead of bumping into strangers and apologising through gritted teeth. Or we could double down and introduce a new national sport: 'Stadium Rubbish Javelin', where you throw your empty can as far as possible and whoever hits a steward wins a free pint of warm ale. Either way, the world is watching.
And they are bringing their own bin bags.
