As the World Cup draws to a close, I have realised that the tournament has been one of emotional highs and lows.

There was the initial high of realising that Nigeria had the best kit of all time and all the patriotism and pride that came with that, then of course the soul-destroying low which came when we were unfairly robbed of a place in the knock out stages by a late goal from Argentina.

Recently I have enjoyed the highs of watching my adopted nation, France, qualify (and hopefully win) the final but of course, this was marred by the lows of my experience watching the England vs Croatia semi-final.

By some miracle, my friends manage to persuade me to go to a pub to watch the match. Anyone who knows me will know that this was indeed a miracle given my general aversion to pubs, not to mention my distinct dislike of English football fans. The longer we sat in the pub, the more it appeared that my fears were not unfounded. It wasn’t just merely an annoyance at the constant chants of ‘it’s coming home’ that I felt, but in fact, a distinct sense of isolation plagued me for the entire time I was there.

As a black person in the UK, there are many situations which make me uncomfortable. None more so, however, than being surrounded by drunken English football fans who often translate their frustration into actions. In my opinion, in England, there is a fine line between patriotism and racism. I’m not suggesting that all English patriots are racist, but rather that one is often used as an excuse for the other. Needless to say, I haven’t been supporting England during this World Cup, despite the protestations of those around me. Some people are confused, others actually offended, but the most common question I encounter is “why?”. Despite having other nationalities, I can’t deny that I was born and raised in England, so why do I find it so difficult to support their sporting endeavours?