O! BORIS, HOW COULD YOU? Isn’t there something in the Old Etonian code of ethics that demands loyalty to one’s nation — if not one’s party — at times of national crisis?
And David Davis? Just a humble London grammar school boy you may have been, but even in the code of Essex there must surely be a sense of honour among thieves, conmen and even Conservatives that insists that to walk away from a fight when plucky little England stands alone against the world’s mightiest is the act of a scoundrel and a bounder!
WE ARE ENGLISHMEN, DAMMIT! AND WE FACE THE GRAVEST PERIL. . .
Never has a nation owed so much to so few as it does to that band of brothers, our 4-3-3 Squad-ron, those boots on the ground with their backs against the wall in the field that defeated Napoleon and Hitler but stands open to conquest by Our Happy Few.
The game’s afoot, chaps; it has all kicked off. But while there is everything in the world to play for tomorrow night in England’s March on Moscow you Little Englanders are squabbling and backbiting over something as squalid and inconsequential as Brexit, whatever that means any more (yes, yes, pipe down Theresa, we all know what YOU think it means!).
Don’t you see, Boris the Bullingdon Clubber and your chum Davis the Chump, that dissension and division at home is demoralising England’s Expeditionary Force in far-flung places?
Look at what is happening already: Sterling has taken a nosedive. . . the FA’s ‘two Jordans policy’ shows signs of breaking down. . . we’re on the verge of a Kane Mutiny!
Consider the fallout, of far greater import than doing some poxy no-deal with those UEFA tiddlers in Brussels: if England don’t win the FIFA World Cup BORIS JOHNSON WILL FOREVER BE HELD TO BLAME!
No one will blame the Cameroons; they were knocked out in the qualifying contest two years ago. No one, least of all the Conservative 1966 Committee (i.e. backbenchers old enough to remember when we last won ANYTHING) will give a second thought to David Davis who by then will be chairing UKIP’s annual conference in a phone box on Clacton Pier.
And certainly no one will have anything but praise and gratitude for those arch-European common marketeers Aldi and (official England sponsors) Lidl, who have eagerly announced early closures so staff can get home to watch the World Cup Final in the event that England make it.
Maybe, even more damning, it will be left to patriot, pro-EU Remainers to recall the bowdlerised words ascribed by Shakespeare to that victorious European, King Henry V of England and spoken so eloquently by Lord Olivier, to all of whom apologies:
This day is semi-finals day
He who shall win Jules Rimet, and come safe home,
Will stand with men like Moore and Bobby Charlton,
And curse for e’er the name of Boris.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on his vigil down the pub,
Say “On this day we rId ourselves of Boris,
50 years of pain and Brexit!”
Then shall recite those names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words—
Harry the Kane, Sterling, Stones and Trippier,
Two Jordans and the keeper, Pickford.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
From this day to the ending of the world,
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not there,
And oft regret it, be they Wolves or Forest.
But still find comfort, “‘Twas the day
We waved goodbye to Brexit and to Boris.”