Mike Rowbottom: Flag fest is all about marketing not patriotism

From Left Field

I shan't be buying an England flag for my car. Sorry, two England flags, as pairs now appear compulsory, like twin tassels on a stripper.

I shan't be buying an England flag for my car. Sorry, two England flags, as pairs now appear compulsory, like twin tassels on a stripper.

The reason the neighbours will not see the breezy banners of St George fluttering from my Renault Laguna - and no, nor am I going to change the car for a Ford Mondeo in time for tomorrow's match - is that it would announce only one thing: I support England-related marketing.

Some bloke in Woodford Green appears to have played a commercial blinder for Euro 2004, shifting more merchandise via garages and supermarkets than you could shake a shaky stick at. Well done, and good luck to him. But I won't be swelling his profits. (Not that I could now, probably, because he's pretty much sold out.)

Please don't misunderstand me. I support England as fervently - no, that's not the word - hopefully - still not right - painfully - getting closer - as the next man. But unlike the next man, I don't feel the need to validate my emotions with a patriotic display. How smug am I!

Seeing all this red and white car regalia reminds me of the craze that began in the late Eighties, and which persists today, for rear window stickers reading "Baby On Board".

For a while, before our first baby appeared, I thought this would be a quirky and desirable item. Then I realised - OK, my wife told me - that it was neither quirky nor desirable, but merely silly.

We did get the two-way baby listener, which we fretted over for months like radio hams. But we didn't get the sticker, and it was the right decision. Because what does this jolly item of information actually say?

What difference does it make to the driver behind what the car in front has on board? Is it supposed to persuade them to hang back in case they kill or injure a baby, as if they would crash happily in other circumstances? Do the manufacturers suppose that someone who endangers others because of their bad driving will discriminate between baby-carriers and non-baby-carriers? Or is the idea that they crash into babies more gently?

Anyway, having got that off my chest... oh no... haven't quite finished yet. The "Baby On Board" message, I always feel, has a smugness about it. It says, subliminally, "We've Got One Already. What About You?"

And now I think about it, that's what the ubiquitous England flags shout out: "We've Got Ours. What About You? Be Like Us".

No, I will resist this exercise in mass consumerism. After all, I'm already engaged in enough others. Such as drinking while watching a game.

The marketeers have done their work well. A big football match on television without an accompanying beer? Well, that's like fish without chips, or David Beckham without tattoos, isn't it? My left hand is for waving a flag. My right hand is for holding a beer. I am complete.

While watching West Ham lose the First Division play-off final in a pub - I was in the pub, that is, although they did play like a pub team on the day - I found that my attention on the game began to wander. After my third pint, although my despair at the unabated presence of Tomas Repka in the West Ham defence remained as fierce as ever, my general concentration began to waver. The game was becoming less important to me.

Covering England games for work, I am mostly detached. The authentic hoping and suffering, over the years, have occurred in front of my own TV set, and that's where I hope to watch most of Euro 2004. Without flags, and without beer.

Having said that, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to bear it.