Football in England didn’t exactly start with polished stadiums and billion-pound transfers. It began with medieval villagers chasing an inflated pig’s bladder through muddy streets while also dodging horses, market stalls, and the occasional angry shopkeeper. The rules? None, really—unless you count “don’t die.” Matches could go on for miles, from one village to another, with players more likely to end up in a brawl than to score a goal. It was less “beautiful game” and more “chaotic mob sport.”

By the 19th century, England decided maybe it was time to calm things down. Schools and universities started making rules, because apparently kicking each other’s shins wasn’t enough structure. Some wanted to pick up the ball and run with it (those rebels would later invent rugby), while others preferred to actually use their feet—imagine that. Eventually, the “let’s not handle the ball” team won, and football as we know it took shape. The shin-kicking, however, never really left.

In 1863, the Football Association (FA) was born, writing down the first official rules. This was revolutionary because now people could argue over *written* rules instead of just punching each other. Suddenly, things like “offside” existed, confusing players for over 150 years and counting. Still, England was proud—they had officially created the framework for a game that the rest of the world would promptly learn, improve, and then consistently beat them at.

The late 1800s saw football explode in popularity, especially in working-class towns. Clubs sprouted everywhere: Manchester United, Liverpool, Arsenal, all starting small before growing into global giants. Crowds packed into makeshift stands, chanting and singing, often louder than the players themselves. Football became the Saturday ritual: 90 minutes of joy, heartbreak, and arguing with referees who always seemed to need glasses.

Then came 1966—the year England actually won the World Cup. It was glorious. Geoff Hurst scored a hat-trick, the Queen handed over the trophy, and a whole nation decided to talk about it nonstop for the next half-century. Even today, if you mention “football history” in England, someone will say, “Well, we did win in ’66…” as if it happened yesterday. Meanwhile, the rest of the world politely nods and tries not to roll their eyes.

Fast forward to today, and English football is a global phenomenon. The Premier League beams into living rooms from Lagos to Los Angeles, with players from every corner of the world dazzling fans—and making more money in a week than medieval villagers saw in a lifetime. England may not always win, but they did give the world football. And for that, the rest of us forgive their endless “It’s coming home” chants… well, almost.