Southgate's England

Yesterday England achieved something I never thought they could: win a match without causing cardiac arrest.

After Harry Maguire opened the scoring, the team seemed to exude a confidence that we haven’t seen since England beat Germany 5-1 in a World Cup qualifier. Yes, we’ve waited seventeen years for our side to deliver a performance that projects authority, skill and endeavour.

The team that beat Germany were billed as ‘The Golden Generation.’ Ferdinand, Terry, Gerrard, Scholes, Owen. These weren’t just the best players in England, but the world. So why could they not get beyond the quarter-finals? In the case against his team, Eriksson would cite bad luck. In 2002 they met Brazil, the greatest world cup nation, whom would go on to win the tournament. In 2006 they lost on penalties to Portugal, having played the final hour with ten men. Therefore, one might excuse the team of coming up against the best; of falling foul of the footballing Gods.

Can any team who has Paul Robinson in goal be golden?

What this denies though is the true context around these games. In 2002 Brazi’s Ronaldinho was sent off on the hour mark. England had thirty minutes – with a man advantage – to claw a goal back; they couldn’t do it. In 2006 they were the ones down to ten men – the reason? Wayne Rooney stamped on an opponent. Eriksson might say luck was against England, but that, in my mind, is a Stalinist re-working of history. England didn’t progress because the stars were against them. Rather they were architects of their own downfall. An inability to seize the moment and an ability to be indisciplined in key moments was their undoing. When it came down to it, the golden generation were fool’s gold: they may have looked like the real deal, but when put to the microscope they were found wanting.

The last World Cup was forgetable for England. In a challenging group we were out after two games. The nation forgave the team because their performances weren’t abject, showed some promise, and the players were seen as ones for the future. Well, the future came in the 2016 European Championships. And the future was not kind. Iceland was meant to be an easy game. Having a population of eleven meant the side had few to pick from. Despite being co-managed by a dentist, England didn't expect to be opened wide (Don't excuse the pun). With an early Wayne Rooney penalty it looked like plain sailing. Then Iceland equalised and the game changed. Joe Hart, England’s goalkeeper, seemed to forget that there was more to football than shouting and conceded again. England had seventy minutes to find a goal. Unfortunately, they did not rise to the occasion. There was no Churchillian sense of purpose and mission. Instead they negotiated Europe with all the acumen of Theresa May. It was clear there was no plan, eventually they exited with cowed embarrassment.

Joe Hart may have been more effective if he adopted this position the whole game. Pic. Reuters

So when Sam Allardyce became England manager the nation breathed a sigh of relief. No longer would the team be paralysed by the world stage. If England played in Allaryce’s DNA, we had nothing to fear. Big Sam had big balls; his progeny surely would too. In all seriousness, we believed that this was the only thing stopping us from advancing: a small matter of courage. When pressure was exerted on England, they crumbled. If their mentality could be sorted, then we would have a chance. Unfortunately, as well as the players, there was a problem with the coach’s mind-set. In a ‘set up’ meeting Allardyce discussed ways of circumventing the FA’s rules on player transfers; the subsequent publication left the bosses with no option but to sack their man. With one game and one victory, Allardyce’s 100% win record makes him England's most successful manager of all time. (It’s a wonder that people are venerating Gareth Southgate when his stats compare so unfavourably to Big Sam’s.)

Next in the media firing line was Gareth Southgate: the oxymoronic bright footballer. Southgate enjoyed a top level playing career, captaining three different sides; though most notably he was known for failure. One failure in particular. In 1996 he missed the deciding spot kick in the European Championships. On a wave of Baddiel and Skinner euphoria, Southgate hit the iceberg, sending  England's hopes south. Along with Stuart Pearce and Chris Waddle, he became part of the missed penalty alumnus; a prestigious group that would eventually initiate new members – David Batty (“Quickly Kevin: will he score?”) being a noticeable one. Questions were raised over the appointment. Was putting an individual famous for failure in charge of a group renowned for it a good idea? Were we not just sending a man with a jerry can into a burning building? Or had the FA got out their old maths textbooks and realised that two negatives made a positive. If blood and thunder jingoism didn’t work, maybe a child-level approach to maths would.

Southgate, who had previously managed to Under 21’s, started slowly but assuredly. In an easy group the points tally soon racked up. No one seemed to care though. England had topped qualifying groups before, and then capitulated in the tournament itself. No pride could be taken in heading a group that had Scotland in joint second. (No offence meant). If you’re the kind of person that gets vainglorious about defeating the Auld Enemy, you're probably the type of person that celebrates successfully negotiating a pedestrian crossing. The one thing that did get people mildly excited about England was the manager’s insistence on things. Previous England managers had forgotten that football consists of a midfield, choosing instead to routinely bypass it with long balls. Southgate, on the other hand, experimented with ball playing defenders in a back three, utilising wing-backs as many premier league managers do. Consequently, England showed signs of pass and move – not quite a Liverpool groove, but neither a dad shuffle too. At least someone was trying to give the team an identity.

On to Russia. 

The first half against Tunisia had us all salivating. An early Harry Kane goal calmed the nerves. Then, England launched wave after wave of attack. Unfortunately, the general spearheading the campaign, Jesse Lingard, had a crisis of conscience, hesitating when tasked with shooting – it nearly cost us. The first sign of a new look England is that it didn’t. An old England would have asked FIFA for special dispensation to fly in Andy Carroll and hoof the ball up to him in the closing minutes, but Southgate’s England stuck to their manager’s instructions, working the ball, until the Tunisians grew so tired of defending that they forgot to pick up their markers, earning England the win.

Kane celebrates. Pic. courtesy of Kieran McManus.

The next game against Panama pitted The Three Lions against big game hunters. Despite Panama’s best efforts to turn the playing field into a parking lot and go Fight Club on the England team, Southgate’s boys came through 6-1 winners. We had beaten low level opposition before, but not with this level of swagger. (In fact I recall a game against Trinadad and Tobago where Peter Crouch had to pull a man’s dreadlock for England to win 1-0. We had won without resorting to schoolgirl tactics - we were on the up.)

With eight changes to a winning team, the Belgium game taught us nothing. Well maybe it taught us one thing: don’t underestimate players. With a new backline Jordan Pickford looked shaky in goal. The few shots that were thrown at him were parried back into harms way. The goal that eluded him led Belgium pundit/goalkeeper Thiibaut Courtois to say he ‘would have caught’ the shot. England finished the group as runners up, evading a potential quarter final with Brazil. Still, few were seriously impressed with England. They had beaten Tunisia in the last minute and taken a defenceless (don’t excuse the pun) animal to the sword in Panama. Knock-out football is the thing and typically it’s our ruin.

Pickford saves. Pic. courtesy Alex Morton.

Under extreme provocation England survived a battering from Colombia. If Panama were ASBO’s in red, Colombia were the definition of shithousery. They kicked out at everything, except the one thing that mattered : the ball. In previous tournaments an England player would have been sent off (see Beckham/Rooney), but in this one no player wanted to let their teammates down. Settling a personal score wasn’t as important as the score itself – they kept their cool. Even after they conceded in the last minute, they recovered in the second half of extra time to create gilt-edged chances. In the shoot-out they showed tremendous character to come from behind (nearly never done) to win. The maligned Jordan Pickford was England’s hero. He had risen to the occasion when his teammates needed him most. England were through.

Despite the optimism, the public weren't totally convinced. The performance against Colombia hadn’t been great. The defence had performed as a cohesive unit – something not predicted before the tournament – but the attack hadn’t. Alli looked heavy legged in midfield and Sterling seemed to be running into walls. The fluency in attack of England’s first games was not there. Ironically, it was penalty kicks that were keeping us in the competition. The first twenty minutes of Sweden looked more of the same: nervy, ponderous and stilted. If football was coming home, it was coming in a body bag. However, set pieces have been England’s secret weapons in this tournament. Ashley Young floated one in and Harry Maguire buried one away. England were now in their groove. Henderson conducted his orchestra from the centre, controlling the direction of the piece. Sterling's allegro was phenomenal (albeit his finishing wasn't); Alli's goal provided a string to his bow; and by the end Lingard was correctly trumpeted for his work. For the first time in the tournament, the attack and defence had passed the test.

Togetherness. Pic. courtesy AFP.

And as for the man that we owe this semi-final to: he’s cut from the same cloth as Sir Bobby and Sir Alf – England’s two great managers. Those men were passionate supporters of their nation, but they were never jingoistic. They respected the opposition and expected their players to too. More importantly, they believed in the team. Ramsey left talismanic Jimmy Greaves out of the World Cup final in favour of the inexperienced Geoff Hurst. For Ramsey it wasn’t about reputations but form. He picked the players that would fit into a system and not the other way around. Bobby Robson was a man that didn’t lower his knowledge to his players level but raised them to his. He thought if you treated people intelligently, then they would be intelligent with you. Gareth Southgate has these qualities: discipline and decency. As well as calm, his other buzzword has been ‘collective.’ In a world of Ballon d’Or individualism, this is a refreshing word to hear. For Argentina and Brazil, their performances in the tournament were hamstrung by belief in messianic figures (don’t excuse the pun). In prioritising their star men, they forgot other great players orbited around them. Bill Shankly once said, ‘The socialism I believe in is everyone working for each other, everyone having their share of the rewards. It’s the way I see football, it’s the way I see life.’ These Three Lions might not bring football home, but what they will bring is its values: the idea that personal advancement is best achieved through co-operation; that in working together, enjoying what you do, happiness can be found.