DID you enjoy those scenes of delirium among the Italians, Danes and Georgians as their countries qualified for the knockout stage of the Euros?
The emotional power of football, eh? You can’t beat it. Did you also notice how lots of the England fans marked qualification as their manager Gareth Southgate went over to applaud them? With a barrage of snarls, V-signs, booing and flying plastic beer cups.
The depressing truth about managing the Three Lions, eh? It always ends brutally in rancour and ugliness.
Because no matter what now happens to England in Germany, Southgate will be gone as he’s lost the fans. The fans who, up until recently, belted out, “Southgate, you’re the one, you still turn me on, football’s coming home again.” They will get his head. Then move on to the next mug.
Southgate has shouldered the blame for England’s poor performances thus far, commenting on the “unusual environment” they are currently experiencing. But, as someone who has covered many World Cups and Euros, I see nothing unusual about it.
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This country goes into most tournaments with fans believing their squad is packed with world-class talent, pundits hailing a Golden Generation and ex-players predicting that “this time it’s coming home”.
And then reality smacks them in the face: England’s club sides may be among the best in the world but they are packed with elite foreigners, and when players put that Three Lions shirt on, they become weighed down with over-expectation. And all the illogical pre-tournament hype becomes a weapon to beat them with when they inevitably fail.
Which is why England have not won a major trophy for 58 years. That’s not Southgate’s fault just as it wasn’t Fabio Capello’s or even poor Graham Taylor’s – who admitted to wetting the bed due to the stress of this impossible job, not helped by his head being turned into a turnip on a national newspaper’s front page.
Southgate is a decent man who could make a solid case for his defence. He inherited a squad on its knees after they were knocked out of the 2016 Euros by Iceland, and led England closer to a tournament victory than any manager since Alf Ramsey.
He went to Germany with injuries, took a dozen players to their first tournament and is yet to find his best side. He could cite the 1986 World Cup when Bobby Robson’s men lost their first game to Portugal and drew with Morocco, then rejigged their attack and went on a decent run before being stopped by Maradona’s Hand of God.
He could argue that as poorly as England have started, they still won their group, unlike Belgium who’ve been woeful, France who have disappointed, and Italy and Holland who scraped through.
But what would be the point? Even if England reach the final, his critics will say he had an easy draw and it was down to the players not him.
He’ll still walk next month, probably as a punchline to a bad joke. Still, at least he’ll know how to deal with that, having put a bag on his head for a Pizza Hut advert after missing the penalty that sealed England’s fate in Euro 96.
Maybe this time he’ll wear a big plastic beer cup. Or a straitjacket. To show what a basket-case of a job he’s left behind.
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