Anthony McIntyre ⚽ For years the England national soccer squad has given both detractors and comedians alike abundant material with which to mould mockery by the tonnage. 


The ha ha scripters and LOL designers are never short of work when England take to the showers upon underwhelming their opposition, and exit whatever tournament they are playing in. For almost half a century since Jan Tomaszewski held the Polish pass and headed off an English invasion of his goal mouth, ensuring the boys from Blighty never made it out of the trench and over the top to storm World Cup 1974, I have derived immense satisfaction from seeing them flail, flounder and fail.

It is not the players or the team itself. An avid fan of the English Premier League and a Liverpool fan to boot, I have no animosity towards them, admiring many of them for the sheer joy they serve up throughout the soccer season. I just don't abide by the hyperinflated phenomenon they have been transformed into by the English sports media and fan base alike. The greatest English philosopher of all time, Mediocrities, has gone unnoticed in a country puffed up on its own John Bull.

The irritation that has long sought exit in England's own exit is primed by the phenomenon Man's Search For Insanity. Not how Viktor Frankl phrased it but close enough. Like cultic Christians gathering for the Rapture, supporters and pundits alike every two years join an expeditionary force that leaves the foothills promising to reach the summit in Europe or further afield while leaving all their powers of reasoning at base camp. In their own mind they are favourites and to the rest of the word they are failures. Naked as jaybirds, into the snow they plough, boasting to wave triumphantly at the sceptics and naysayers from the summit. We sit back and duly predict their rapid descent back down. 

Like a rerun of an old movie filmed in Mexico in 1970, it only ever ends one way. Everyone knows the script but the self-professed experts. Like Einstein's lunatic they keep doing the same thing yet expecting a different outcome.

England did not always field teams of donkeys. Many sides were not lacking in talent. The blindspot lay in the inability of the true believers to sense what lay out there, beyond their own shores. The prowess of other teams was understated. The Colonel Blimps of Blighty could see only one thing -  putting Johnny Foreigner to the sword.

But not to hee haw at the combined idiocy of fans and pundits would be a flagellist self-denial, a foregoing of the bragger's trumpet that heralds hubris humiliated. Having been insufferably assailed for weeks on end from the academy of entitlement, blasting the ears with grossly inflated claims, we ridiculers walk on while England walk off empty handed.

Last evening I sat at home watching the France-England quarter final, my wife tolerating my groans.  Earlier in the day Morocco had just beaten Portugal, so whoever emerged victorious from the later game looked a sure bet to make the final. I badly wanted France to win for the sake of my son who, along with his sister, was in a Lyon pub watching the game while wearing the French team's top. I texted him throughout, wincing at each French conceded penalty. He looked very apprehensive when the second, like the first, was needlessly given away. 


The penalty kick - the bane of England's international soccer - arose once more from the depths to pull them under as it submerged again. Defeated not by a French heist but by a Harry Hoist, ultimately they have only themselves to blame. Kane's penalty was nothing short of atrocious. 


Still, on the night the team that played the better soccer went out. The French team looked flat and pedestrian, their defensive capabilities suspect. The English were very unlucky. So they, not the World Cup, are coming home. The trophy is destined for elsewhere and there is no guarantee that its resting place for the next four years will be Paris.

England, when they pick themselves up, must come to accept that they blew it. The referee was poor as were the French, but their fate lay in their own hands.  This England side has quality. Down but not out. they will come again.  If Southgate stays in place and continues to build around the midfield powerhouse of Bellingham and Rice, then England can emerge as champions of Europe in 2024, irrespective of who the opposition is. At present England has the ability to win major tournaments. It doesn't have the nerve to win them. 

Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Out

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ For years the England national soccer squad has given both detractors and comedians alike abundant material with which to mould mockery by the tonnage. 


The ha ha scripters and LOL designers are never short of work when England take to the showers upon underwhelming their opposition, and exit whatever tournament they are playing in. For almost half a century since Jan Tomaszewski held the Polish pass and headed off an English invasion of his goal mouth, ensuring the boys from Blighty never made it out of the trench and over the top to storm World Cup 1974, I have derived immense satisfaction from seeing them flail, flounder and fail.

It is not the players or the team itself. An avid fan of the English Premier League and a Liverpool fan to boot, I have no animosity towards them, admiring many of them for the sheer joy they serve up throughout the soccer season. I just don't abide by the hyperinflated phenomenon they have been transformed into by the English sports media and fan base alike. The greatest English philosopher of all time, Mediocrities, has gone unnoticed in a country puffed up on its own John Bull.

The irritation that has long sought exit in England's own exit is primed by the phenomenon Man's Search For Insanity. Not how Viktor Frankl phrased it but close enough. Like cultic Christians gathering for the Rapture, supporters and pundits alike every two years join an expeditionary force that leaves the foothills promising to reach the summit in Europe or further afield while leaving all their powers of reasoning at base camp. In their own mind they are favourites and to the rest of the word they are failures. Naked as jaybirds, into the snow they plough, boasting to wave triumphantly at the sceptics and naysayers from the summit. We sit back and duly predict their rapid descent back down. 

Like a rerun of an old movie filmed in Mexico in 1970, it only ever ends one way. Everyone knows the script but the self-professed experts. Like Einstein's lunatic they keep doing the same thing yet expecting a different outcome.

England did not always field teams of donkeys. Many sides were not lacking in talent. The blindspot lay in the inability of the true believers to sense what lay out there, beyond their own shores. The prowess of other teams was understated. The Colonel Blimps of Blighty could see only one thing -  putting Johnny Foreigner to the sword.

But not to hee haw at the combined idiocy of fans and pundits would be a flagellist self-denial, a foregoing of the bragger's trumpet that heralds hubris humiliated. Having been insufferably assailed for weeks on end from the academy of entitlement, blasting the ears with grossly inflated claims, we ridiculers walk on while England walk off empty handed.

Last evening I sat at home watching the France-England quarter final, my wife tolerating my groans.  Earlier in the day Morocco had just beaten Portugal, so whoever emerged victorious from the later game looked a sure bet to make the final. I badly wanted France to win for the sake of my son who, along with his sister, was in a Lyon pub watching the game while wearing the French team's top. I texted him throughout, wincing at each French conceded penalty. He looked very apprehensive when the second, like the first, was needlessly given away. 


The penalty kick - the bane of England's international soccer - arose once more from the depths to pull them under as it submerged again. Defeated not by a French heist but by a Harry Hoist, ultimately they have only themselves to blame. Kane's penalty was nothing short of atrocious. 


Still, on the night the team that played the better soccer went out. The French team looked flat and pedestrian, their defensive capabilities suspect. The English were very unlucky. So they, not the World Cup, are coming home. The trophy is destined for elsewhere and there is no guarantee that its resting place for the next four years will be Paris.

England, when they pick themselves up, must come to accept that they blew it. The referee was poor as were the French, but their fate lay in their own hands.  This England side has quality. Down but not out. they will come again.  If Southgate stays in place and continues to build around the midfield powerhouse of Bellingham and Rice, then England can emerge as champions of Europe in 2024, irrespective of who the opposition is. At present England has the ability to win major tournaments. It doesn't have the nerve to win them. 

Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

11 comments:

  1. 1, May have been a foul in the build up to France's first.

    2, Why was Giroud unmarked again in the box after his previous 3 attempts at a close range header? Schoolboy defending.

    3, Kane bottled the 2nd Penalty. I could tell before he run up to it that he was undecided where to put it.

    Lots of angst sure to follow with a complete lack of genuine introspection from the Pom FA. France where average and still caused problems.

    Great stuff!

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    Replies
    1. France did look ordinary but I wonder if much of that is down to England not letting them flow. I genuinely believe that in terms of soccer ability this is a good England side. I enjoyed watching them.

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    2. They ran about a bit more than in previous competitions I'll grant you, but they were just as ineffective. They dominated just about everything and still had to rely on being awarded penalties to score and even then fucked up one of them. France simply sat back and punished them. Daft set up 4-3-3 against the French 'V' formation. Simply swamped when the pushed forward in the middle of the pitch. Should have dropped Kane for Grealish, put Grealish in the middle of a 5 midfield along with Mount and Sterling on wings and Rashford up front. Would have at least caused Rabiot and Tchoumeni problems and pulled them out of position.

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  2. Another well crafted piece AM, with some smashing turns-of- phrase. Watched both games on Saturday, unusual for me (the Mrs's sister is married to a Moroccan and a life-time resident in France).
    Satisfying results all-round.

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    Replies
    1. Having family invested in it would give you an interest in it. It would be truly great for the sport if Morocco were to win it.

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  3. Most people will watch England playing undecided whether they want them to win or lose, I think perhaps some would rather see them being humiliated, England’s have and always have loads of enthusiasm but what lets them down is not bottle its simple ball control none of them seem to be comfortable on the ball when the pressure is on it appears they put more emphasis on strategies rather than simply updating their ball control skills




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    1. It was great to see them sent packing by Iceland. This time it has been humiliating for Kane, not the team. It played quite well and for the first time since 1990, I think they can become a force in world soccer. I believe had they not been as unfortunate against the Germans in the semis that year they would have taken Argentina in the final.

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  4. Gazza was their world class player a once in a lifetime

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    1. They have a good crop like Bellingham, Foden and Saka who will bein mid-20s range come the next World Cup

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  5. Barry they need at least one world class player and there hasn't been one since Gazza and nobody has filled that void since granted unlucky in Euros but again no-one to apply the killer blow

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    Replies
    1. I think Bellingham has the making of a world class player. Gazza was good but I never put him in that category. Might think again.

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