Player Focus: Christopher Birchall

In Trinidad and Tobago, Christopher Birchall is known by his nickname: “Me Mum.” The nickname was his two-word response to a reporter who asked him how he was eligible to play for the country’s national team, the Soca Warriors. It is rare that a player would be asked to explain their eligibility, but Christopher Birchall is himself a rarity: a white player on the Trindadian national team.

Can you find Christopher Birchall? Hint: he’s the one lacking pigment.

As he himself succinctly explained, it was through his mother that Birchall was eligible to play for Trinidad and Tobago. She was born and grew up in Port of Spain, Trinidad’s capital. Although she moved to England at age 18 and settled there, her connection to the island nation would serve her son well.

While Birchall knew that his mother had been born in Trinidad, he had never considered the possibility of representing the Caribbean nation. During the 2004-2005 season, he was mostly concerned with trying to break into the first team of Port Vale. But, unbeknownst to him, word had leaked about his heritage and Birchall was approached by a Trinidadian player during a league match against Wrexham. Birchall told The Guardian’s Dominic Fifield what happened next:

[Port] Vale played Wrexham towards the end of that season, the ball went out for a throw-in and Dennis Lawrence came charging up to me. When a 6ft 7in opponent comes at you, normally the first thing you think is ‘Uh-oh, what have I done wrong here? Did I foul him earlier or something?’ But he just asked whether I had any Trini blood in me and wanted to have a chat after the game.

It may have been the worst pick-up line ever (“You have any Trini blood in you? You want some?”), but it was enough to charm the Port Vale midfielder. He and Dennis Lawrence chatted after the game, confirmed his Trini blood, and a few weeks later, Birchall was on a plane, heading for the Caribbean.

When Birchall made his international debut in May of 2005, he became the first white player to play for the Soca Warriors in 60 years. His race was of major interest to the press and people of his newly adopted country. Again, speaking to the Guardian, Birchall said, “There was a big crowd for my first game – I was a bit of a novelty, the first white player for so long – and they wanted to see how good I was, wondering: ‘Who is this guy playing for us who’s never been here before, and a white lad too?’”

Birchall expressing his patriotism

Back in England, Birchall’s father worried that his boy might not be accepted in his newly adopted country. Birchall himself was a bit nervous too, but his fears were eased as soon as he arrived. “That was one of the main things I was worried about, but everything has been fine, ” Birchall said. “Not only was I a white guy playing for Trinidad and Tobago for the first time in 60 years but I was also from England – so that is why it has been so great the way I have been accepted. I have been to the local nightclubs and met a lot of the local people.”

So, why was Birchall accepted so easily into the Trinidadian team? He believes it has to do with the country’s multiethnic nature. “[I]n Trinidad, there are loads of different cultures, whites, Chinese. For them, it is not a big deal, because there are a lot of white people…”

Trinidad is an incredibly diverse place. In addition to the whites and Chinese Birchall mentioned, the population of Trinidad is about 40% East Indian, 40% Afro-Trinidadian, and nearly 20% of the people identify themselves as mixed. This mixing is key to understanding Trinidadian identity.

As Cornell University anthropologist Viranjini Munasinghe writes in her paper Nationalism in Hybrid Spaces: The Production of Impurity Out of Purity, while Europeans and their descendants have built their identity around the idea of a homogeneous population, Trinidadians have based their sense of self in heterogeneity.

Munasinghe writes that “the national genius of some New World Creole societies lies in their celebration of mixture of hybridity” (668). Though she points out that this celebration has largely excluded East Indians, it is revealing to note that the myth of Trinidadian identity, at least, has been based around celebrating the multiethnic character of the population.

Many have used food metaphors in an attempt to explain this notion of identity. Callaloo, a popular dish in the country, for example, is a mixture of African and indigenous ingredients. As such, it is used (much like the American melting pot) to symbolize the way in which people from many different backgrounds come to Trinidad and are mixed together to form a new, unique product called Trinis. (Just as the idea of the melting pot has been critiqued for making all the delicious ingredients into a tasteless mush, so too have people like Munasinghe criticized the callaloo metaphor, saying it leaves little space for East Indians to express their unique identity. In both countries, reformers are promoting a “tossed salad” metaphor to replace the established ones.)

Callaloo

Metaphors aside, it remains undeniable that Trinidad and Tobago is very aware of its multiethnic nature. Munainshge quotes one observer of Trinidadian culture who says that “a number of individuals know of six or more racial … strains in their ancestry.” (680).

Christopher Birchall was worried that people in Trinidad would not accept him as a white player. He found out that his “unique” background was seen, in many ways, as not very unique. Interesting backgrounds are not that special in a country full of them.

Birchall endeared himself to people in Trinidad when he scored a goal in his country’s play-off match against Bahrain to help send the Soca Warriors to their first ever World Cup. The only person prouder than Trinidadian fans of their “white boy” was the white boy’s own mother. “Mum was the proudest person alive that I was representing her country. She thought the Trinidad chapter in her life had been shut. It’s emotional for her.”

Birchall playing against Sweden at the 2006 World Cup

It may be hard for Birchall’s mother to believe that he is playing for the country of her birth, but not as hard as it is for some of his teammates. “When … players … hear I play internationally, they can’t believe it and say, ‘Who do you play for?’ ‘Trinidad & Tobago.’ They start laughing. ‘No really, who do you play for?’”

I will buy a beer for anyone who can tell me who the first white player to play for Trinidad was. I’ve searched, but can’t find the answer. Oh, and you have to come to Washington (before September) or San Diego (afterwards) to pick up your prize.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 5th, 2007 at 7:34 pm and is filed under Caribbean, Ethnicity/Race, Nationalism/Identity, Player Focus, UK. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.