FC GB

There are a lot of people getting into a bit of a tizz over the idea of a Great Britain football team for the Olympics, a concept that the British Olympic Association (BOA) are bandying about for the umpteenth time in the run-up to London 2012.

Gordon Smith, chief executive of the Scottish Football Association, is fairly unequivocal on his stance. “We are opposed to the concept of a British football team. As we have said many times before, we feel that such a move would threaten the independent status of the home nations.”

The Football Association of Wales aren’t exactly bubbling over with enthusiasm either. “We remain totally opposed to any Welsh involvement in a Great Britain side at the Olympics and none of our players would participate in such an endeavour,” said Peter Rees, president of the FAW.

Gary McAllister, supporters’ spokesman for the Northern Ireland team as opposed to the manager of Leeds United, has made up his mind too. “We do not think it is in the interests of Northern Ireland football for our participation in what is really a showpiece cosmetic event.”

So, it seems that the only people in favour of the idea are Seb Coe, Brian Barwick of the FA, Lord Moynihan of the BOA and, for what it’s worth, Dan Poole, that Arena blogger chap.

Because really, what’s the problem? Sepp Blatter, FIFA president and notorious meddler (tighter shorts for women footballers, anyone?), has actually come out and said that the individual status of the four home nations would not be affected. (He then mumbled something about every team having to field a player made entirely of marmalade and called for more female supporters to whip their tits out whenever a throw-in was taken, but we’ll bypass that for now.)

Forgive me for sounding like a defensive donkey-puncher, but it strikes me as a harmless exercise. It could be a one-off – unless of course the team won gold, in which case they might want to keep it going – and prove to be a beautiful metaphor for the power of football to unite.

Imagine it: we could all go out and buy replica shirts, throw our arms around our fellow Britons and sup on a beautiful cocktail of tea, Guinness, leek soup and Jameson as we will the red, white and blues to glory.

And hey, whisper this quietly, but we’ve got form at the Olympics. Great Britain won the first official Olympic football tournament in 1908, beating Denmark 2-0 in, yes, London, before going on to defend their title four years later in Stockholm.

Here’s my only fear: am I being stereotypically English about this? “Bloody moanin’ Celts, what’s their problem, GB till I die, GB till I die,” that sort of thing?

Are the Welsh, Scottish and Northern Irish football folks resisting because they are proudly independent and don’t want anything to do with the arrogant England set-up, whereas I’m a bit blasé about the whole thing, not particularly patriotic when it comes down to it and really rather think they’re spoiling all our fun, what ho?

Either way, let’s get to the most important bit. If Team GB were to kick-off today, this would be my ine-up, in an adventurous 3-4-3 formation:

Craig Gordon (gk)

Micah Richards
Johnny Evans
Gareth Bale

Aaron Ramsey
Barry Ferguson (c)
Jason Koumas
Theo Walcott

David Healy
Wayne Rooney
Darren Pattinson (He’d need to justify his place first of course: half-an-hour of keepie-uppies should do the trick)