Joseph Harker: Why I'll be supporting Brazil

Many black Britons will be shouting for England tomorrow - but their patriotism is misplaced.

It was the evening of Sunday June 14, 1970. I was settling down to watch England take on West Germany in the World Cup quarter-final when my mother said something which shocked me. "Come on, Germany," she cheered. And my seven-year-old brain just couldn't understand why. We lived in England (though neither of my parents was born here) and it had never crossed my mind that we should support anyone else.

The following Sunday I saw the final itself, Brazil v Italy. And from that moment, I fell in love with the team in the yellow shirts and pale blue shorts; and, far more importantly, with the black players. This was Pele's final, with support from Jarzinho and Carlos Alberto, among others. Even Gerson and Rivelino looked black, strolling around the pitch on that sun-drenched afternoon.

By this stage in my life, as the only black child in my school, I was already a regular victim of racial playground taunts. Now here, for the first time, was a team which made me feel proud. And by the age of nine, I had come to feel that I would always be an outsider in this country. Something had definitely changed, and I cheered to see England lose 3-1 to West Germany in the 1972 European Nations Cup.

In the 1974 World Cup, I felt this even more strongly when Scotland, Britain's sole World Cup representatives, were grouped with novices Zaire. The Scottish team's backbone came from the era's giants, Leeds United, known as much for their arrogance as for their talent. They played this game true to form, trying to humiliate their opponents, to teach the Africans a "footballing lesson", playing as if in a practice match. So instead of taking them on and scoring a hatful of goals, Scotland won only 2-0 and eventually went out on goal difference - to Brazil.

Time moves on, though, and obviously today's youngsters don't remember those days. Every black Briton I know aged 35-plus has followed Brazil for similar reasons to myself; but last month a survey in the Afro-Caribbean newspaper New Nation reported that only 20% of respondents wanted Brazil to win the cup - well behind Nigeria (33%) and England (34%).

Support for Nigeria is easily explained - why settle for the diaspora when you can choose a real African team? But England? Norman Tebbit might be pleased, but I'm horrified. Ever since my early years, I have chosen my teams on the basis of their black make-up. Cricket (West Indies, of course); athletics (Kenya and Ethiopia); rugby (New Zealand - Maoris are the closest ethnic match and they are the All Blacks after all); bobsleigh (Jamaica)... OK, the last one's a joke.

Some may say that things have changed because the England team has so many black players. But this is not new. In the early 1990s, under Graham Taylor, half the England team was black. This proved a false dawn. Soon after, the team was almost exclusively white again; black players struggled to get a place on the bench in some matches.

I can hear people claiming my allegiances must be racist; Tebbit that I should get on my bike and out of the country; David Blunkett that I need citizenship lessons. But what about the 5 million Scots who'll support anyone but England; or the Irish? What about, even, all those English people who can't bear to be associated with the foul, yobbish louts who create chaos and mayhem while "supporting" the national team abroad?

I know everyone's talking about how well behaved the fans have been this time, but we know it only takes an England defeat for it all to change. Remember Euro 2000? England lost to Portugal: the fans rioted. They lost to Romania: they rioted again. And even if there's no trouble this time, it will probably be because the thugs are either banned from travelling or can't afford the trip; meaning they're back in the UK . . . great.

I think back to the era of "no blacks, no Irish, no dogs"; to Enoch Powell and the dock workers; to the National Front in the 1970s marching in their thousands; to Thatcher feeling swamped. And every time I hear drunken youths singing EN-GER-LAND! EN-GER-LAND! I get another reminder. And I know that, despite being born here, I will never be truly English.

To be able to support your nation at football means feeling a part of it, of its future, and at one with its people. Some would say that, despite surveys in which people claim racism is getting worse, or social conditions are deteriorating, the fact that so many ethnic minorities are prepared to shout for the three lions is cause for optimism about Britain's racial future. I, though, would hope it's not a sign that people are forgetting the history of struggle in this country and that, rather than becoming integrated, they are losing their identity in a sea of assimilation.

And in the meantime, if my worst fears are realised and England manage to make it past Brazil tomorrow, please God let them be dumped in the semis by Senegal.