So Mr. McClaren reads EAAE, or so I have to presume, seeing how he saw the light and binned the Beckham boy only days after I told him that Becks was past his sell by date. But good for him, having the balls to do it despite the obvious forthcoming drop in shirt sales and the lack of an obvious replacement to be the target of Japanese girls’ knicker throwing (although I’m happy to volunteer).
I can’t help thinking though that the squad he picked is far too similar to the one used by Sven to inspire immediate confidence. Are Downing, Crouch and Richardson really world beaters? Or is English football just at a stage where the world beaters don’t exist? Despite the uptick in performances recently we all know that the likes of a Germany or Brazil would once again show us up as the journeymen of international football.
Yes, I know I’m harsh. Perhaps McClaren can show his worth and turn this motley crew into trophy winners. The England fans certainly deserve it.
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Okay, okay. So starting a blog a few days after the arrival of my first child may not have been the smartest thing in the world, especially when combined with moving house and having the mother-in-law to stay for eight weeks (yes, eight weeks!). Add to that the fact that the last couple of months have seen some of the most interesting activity in the England camp for some time, and it looks like a missed opportunity…
But wait! My son is all grown up (isn’t two months the age at which they go and look for work?) and the mother-in-law has stopped sleeping 12 hours a night in our spare bedroom between declarations of how bored she is at our place. So it’s time to fire up the laptop and get back on the trail of the England boys and their quest for international glory (ha!).
And what’s that I hear? Our lads have actually been out there winning a game or two. What joy. And credit where it’s due, six points out of six is what we England fans were looking for. But let’s not forget this is Andorra and Macedonia we’re talking about, not Germany and France, and England have a habit of getting our hopes up in games they should cruise through before they continue to disappoint when it really counts.
But at least they live to fight another day.
Oh my god, I got it wrong. I’ve just used my time machine to go back six weeks and we have actually just defeated Italy in the World Cup final. The papers are rejoicing, England are dominant and the world is a better place.
Or at least you would think so after England beat the mighty European Champions Greece 4-0 last night. Sure, 4-0 is better than 0-4, but let’s not forget that Greece have been crap in the extreme since they Wimbledon’ed their way to Euro 2004, and, hell, we should be beating teams like this even if our players have to hop on one leg.
But credit where it’s due. McLaren’s average is looking pretty good so far.
So the new footy season is nearly upon us. As I alluded to, I’m an Arsenal fan which for most of the last decade has been an experience vastly different from that of watching England… Beautiful football, players putting in the effort and a shed full of trophies. I suppose the one other difference is the general lack of Englishmen involved, to the point where next season, with Sol gone walkabout and Mr. Cole hopefully on his way too, we’ll probably be watching 11 “foreigners” week in, week out. Is that something I care about? No. In fact it never even crosses my mind. As long as whoever pulls on the red and white also pulls his weight and cares about the team as much as the fans, I couldn’t care less where they arrived from.
Isn’t there any way we can get a few such “foreigners” to play for England?
So why is it that I managed to miss most of the World Cup final? Because one part of my destiny was being fulfilled the night before. My wife went into labour on the morning of June 8th, and after 24 hours of wailing and pretty horrendous goings on, my son was born at 8.30 a.m. on 9th July, World Cup Final day.
Now clearly someone had this all planned. I and my wife were destined to have our first child born on the day that England finally exorcised its soccer demons and gloriously brought home the World Cup. Only they didn’t. We kept our side of the bargain, whilst they just bored us to tears for four games and let us down horribly in the fifth. At least I had something to be pleased about on the 9th.
By the way, it was also supposed to be the year that Arsenal won the Champions League for the first time… But they’re forgiven.
David Beckham has been the main man for England for quite some time. I remember going berserk in the Sapporo Dome when he scored that penalty against Argentina in 2002. I went similarly nuts when he curled in that free kick against Columbia in 1998, although sadly I can’t remember actually seeing it hit the net from the opposite end of the ground. The contribution of Beckham’s right foot has been beyond dispute.
However Mr. Beckham is now 31 years old, and seems to have been struggling with his fitness for a while now. What’s more, at Germany 2006 England often looked at their most dangerous when he was replaced, both because Aaron Lennon causes defences problems and possibly because his absence allowed the rest of the midfield to find their game. At the next major tournament, Euro 2008, he’ll be 33, and would no doubt struggle even more.
Hence my delight when I saw that Beckham had called a news conference after the loss to Portugal. I was pleased that he had decided to retire from international football, leaving with dignity and allowing the likes of Lennon or perhaps Shaun Wright-Phillips the stake their claim in the next two years. But unfortunately it seems he made the wrong decision, deciding to stand down as captain whilst expressing his desire to continue playing. Bad call, I say, both for him and the team. I fear we’re now going to see him decline further, and if he continues to play we’ll hear ongoing ruomours that he’s being included for commercial rather than football reasons. I would be amazed if he is a genuine first eleven choice come 2008.
To be honest, I’ve always had doubts about his leadership skills as the national captain. Despite all the badge kissing and tears, on the pitch he hasn’t seemed to have the drive to rouse the team and push them on in the difficult games. Steven Gerrard or John Terry are the captain breed, and either one should be an improvement.
So, David, perhaps you should reconsider. Go now.
So, Italy win the World Cup final but more news time is spent on the rather bizarre departure of Zinadine Zidane with only ten minutes of not only the game but his fantastic career remaining. I must confess to falling asleep for most of the game, not because it was like watching England but because I didn’t manage even five minutes sleep the night before…. for reasons which I’ll go into later. I did however see the first and last 20 minute periods, which I guess pretty much covered it.
As for Zidane, I’m not really sure what to make of it, and remember sitting mouth open for what seemed like ages when he launched himself at Materazzi’s chest. I note that the PR men have been hard at work though to the point where Materazzi is now the villain and the referee has even had to defend his decision to send Zidane off! I have to say that whatever was said, Zidane should have known better, and if I were one of his team mates I would not be too chuffed. At least he did it with style, though.
I was hoping to post the Zidane head butt clip from YouTube here, but I see they’ve removed it, presumably due to FIFA and their overzealous copyright enforcement. Instead, here’s the closest I could find…
I see that lounging on a private yacht is clearly the preferred method to get over your World Cup heart break. I’ve asked my personal butler to book one.
Good luck to both teams in the World Cup final tonight. I’ll probably be rooting for France although I think Italy have the better chance, and whoever wins I just I hope it proves to be as entertaining as it should be.
I came across this today, apparently from the Daily Mirror by way of the BBC:
“England midfielder Frank Lampard was given a painful World Cup reminder as he began his holiday in the South of France - the yacht he hired was flying a Portugal flag.”
Now I don’t know about you, but if I had just failed miserably to make any kind of impression at the World Cup, I could get over it pretty quickly if I spent the next couple of weeks on a private yacht in the South of France. And to be honest, that Portugal flag just wouldn’t bother me too much. Similarly, I’m sure a nice villa in the Bahamas, a luxury pad in Dubai or just a return to my suburban mansion and Ferrari back home would help to sooth my suffering, to the point where I probably just wouldn’t care too much about that fun little football tournament I’d recently played in. Life would feel pretty good again.
That’s why I think your average England fan suffers more than the players when the latter pull off their latest round of underperformance. Heading back to the nine-to-five grind on Monday morning, typing on a keyboard, stacking shelves, fixing cars or whatever it may be, just doesn’t have the same soothing qualities, and so the humilation just seems to last that bit longer. Maybe a bit of nine-to-five for the England squad would help boost their trophy cabinet a little?
By the way, I hope Mr. Lampard hadn’t booked that trip before the World Cup started?!?
