On Racism in Sport and otherwise

O dear, the football pansies are all up in arms about racist comments and get deeply offended when a black player calls them whitey and the other way round.
Political correctness has now driven all spicey racial talk into the darkest corners of the pubs, where it thrives. In fact what on earth is one talking about when one uses the term “Racist”. Just what is a racist? A Zulu who despises a Xhosa? A Xhosa who despises a Pondo? Any Black who despises a Boer? And makes a song about killing them? Whites who cannot stand Blacks? Blacks who hate Jews? Japanese who loath Koreans? And so forth and so on.

The innocent duckling

Simply stating that it is a crime to utter a biased opinion is ridiculous, as any phychologist will back up. All that repression just tearing one apart.In America it has degenerated to the point where one speaks in whispers of the “N-word”. Bad, bad, bad, as well one can understand.Perfectly legitimate for at least 50 years after the signing of the Civil Rights Act, after which it becomes ridiculous. Currently only an N can call an N an N.Blacks even call whites N’s if they like them.

Having grown up in South Africa I encountered racism in all its forms but it seemed as though the world has decided there is only one form of racism – and that is white people abusing everyone else. In Africa Black tribes loath and hate each other and teach their children to do the same. The white-on-black issue pales into insignificance in comparison.

Granted that the White tribes are loathesome colonialists and what-not but so were the Romans and the Greeks and the Persians and the Egyptians at the height of their power. Not to mention the Nazi’s who were really extreme.The Americans are slowly getting their as well. And then all those spicey and largely harmless words words vanishing forever – Mick, spick, spade, boer, yid, heimie, slope, gook. My father used them all to define the different races and was definitely not a racist. As gentle as the day was long but with the consciousness of an English colonialist, and a taste for delicious invective.

I have many Yid friends and they all on occasion refer to me as a Goy, which I am. No offence meant and none taken. I would not become a Yid if you paid me. All that food restriction crap. No way.

So a footballer who comes from Darkest Africa and is paid 200.000 pounds a week to kick a ball around, gets all excited when a white colleague whispers the naughty N word in his ear after they bump into each other near the corner post. O come on! Save me the trouble.

Try Cricket and Rubgy you guys if you want an introduction to the language of the scrum and the slips. Where no one complains.

©Howard Gamble
25th October 2011

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