I was going to try and dig in to this whole John Terry sex scandal mess today, but then I realized that I'm not British, no matter how pasty I get from hours indoors at the computer. For this we need a real Brit, and luckily I've found one. James T. is the founding editor of the soccer bog Unprofessional Foul, who has moved here from England, where soccer is the stuff of legends. If he can't get to the bottom of this, no one can. I yield my remaining time in this post to him.
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By James T.
The English have always been good at moral outrage, and the recent John Terry hysteria brought all of those messy feelings and moralistic op/ed columnists to the forefront in glorious fashion. The nation had cause to debate that most vital component of the whole scandal: its implications on the captaincy of the national soccer team.
In England, captains are lionized as much as politicians the world over. We expect from them a certain moral quality and fiber that we deem necessary for the job itself, and will willingly overlook the strength of their resume and qualifications; above all, a moral code akin to Richard the Lionheart, able to lead the masses into battle with a stiff upper lip, stoic expression, and fearless spirit (we'll overlook that Richard I, our Lionheart of lore, killed an awful lot of Jews and led a religious crusade that was, in retrospect, woefully misguided) is the easiest means to determine whether someone is right for the job. Conveniently, it's also the shallowest way to pick your leaders, but we don't like to think too hard about issues. Just tell me whether the guy is a Christian father of two with a trophy wife, white picket fence, and all will be fine.