QPR have walloped the Chinese

A few weeks ago the Chinese national youth football team arrived in London to play some matches against the capital’s clubs as part of a historic, groundbreaking, goodwill visit ahead of the Olympic Games. A chance for our two nations to foment sporting respect for one another, despite our profound political differences. Sort of like Nixon’s visit to Peking in 1972, except with the top referee Dermot Gallagher in attendance, rather than Henry Kissinger.

I dare say you can imagine what happened, in case you haven’t already heard. Seven members of the Chinese team were sent home after a terrific, spectacular mass brawl during the, um, friendly game against QPR. It was wonderful stuff — you can watch it all on the internet. There were oriental kung-fu kicks and good old British haymakers, wrestling throws and neck-high karate chops. Fittingly, it was a very democratic brawl — everyone got involved, including the spectators and the trainers. One Chinese player, Zheng Tao, was rendered unconscious for five minutes and taken to hospital with a fractured jaw. It was, by some margin, the most entertaining football game I have ever seen. I can’t remember the score and it doesn’t really matter because Mr Gallagher was forced to abandon the game (and, indeed, leg it to the changing-rooms with great rapidity). There’s not much doubt, however, that QPR won the fight. Easily. Always thought China’s martial reputation was grossly exaggerated; now we have proof.

And that, it seems, is the thing which most irks the Chinese. The disgrace which shrouds the Chinese players is not so much a result of their having been involved in an unseemly brawl, but that they lost the unseemly brawl. And to QPR, who, as any fule kno, are one of our country’s better-natured and gentler football teams. If John Chinaman can’t beat QPR in a scrap, then by my reckoning Taiwan is safe as houses and we could probably retake Hong Kong in half an hour.