After all the years of hurt, it was nice to live the dream
AND with a rumble and a roar and a laser-guided swing of Mario Mandzukic’s boot, it was all over. The World Cup that England had earmarked as football’s homecoming ended crouched on their haunches, their shapes denting the Luzhniki turf.
Party over. Lights on. Everybody out. England are coming home, but football — alas — looks like it will be staying in the taxi and going on somewhere else.
England v Croatia in the World Cup semi-f inal was a game that ever yone will have watched, but no t wo people will have seen in the same way.
The gazes are too numerous, the stakes too high, the emotions too deep. Every instant was splintered into a million dif ferent interpretations the moment it occurred, like light refracting, or glass shattering.
Perhaps when Ivan Perisic turned the ball in for Croatia’s equaliser you saw an astonishing feat of athleticism and agility. Or perhaps you saw a clear foul for a high foot.
Perhaps when Mandzukic turned in Croatia’s winning goal you saw a sumptuous f licked header, an outstanding f inish under pressure. Or perhaps you simply saw a defence caught momentarily f lat-footed.
Four years, eight years, 52 years, who cares? In any case, it will be a long time until either England or the English are on the crest of a wave like this again, and in the meantime we and they have all got work today on a raging hangover.
It was — above all — an extremely weird evening, the novel and surreal sensations all bleeding into each other: the hope, the dread, the despair. That’s always been a part of football, of course, but somehow it ’s never felt quite as blisteringly raw as this.
After all, this is a nation who had collectively forgotten what a game this big had felt like. In time, these sensations will be repackaged and fed back to us as commemorative DVDs and end- of-year reviews and IT V4 talking heads shows. But those of us who saw it will remember it like the f irst time.
From desk 74, seat B of the Luzhniki Stadium press box, it looked a lot like England had a World Cup f inal in the palms of their hands, and were so transfixed by it that they forgot to close their f ists.
Psychologists tell us that high- stress situations affect our perception. Space contracts, time seems to slow down, ever y moment means ever y thing.
That may be one reason why England’s passing was so much more disjointed here than it has been elsewhere in the tournament, why they so of ten took so long on the ball that Croatia — playing at normal speed — were simply able to take it off them.
That ability to pace themselves, to modulate that ticking metronome in their minds, has been part of England’s progress to this point. They took their time before stepping up for their penalties alties against Colombia. ia. They weighted their passes just t enough to commit opponents.
Probably, they assumed it would all work just as well here. But under the twin assaults of f creeping fatiguee and extreme stress, England lost their internal rhy thm.
England’s attacking blossom shrivelled to a husk in the second half, their gameplan seemingly resembling a Swiss army knife where ever y device was a long ball into the channel. The missed chances in the f irst half — by Harry Kane ( below) most notably — will haunt them for weeks, perhaps years.
But in many ways, this is the point. The shadows and shapes of this game, the colours and apparitions and reverberatinberating noises, will stay wwith England’s plaplayers for the rerest of their lilives. Where’s tthe point in ssupplementing ttheir burden?
No, let’s reremember the googood times. Let’s remeremember Trippier’ser’s freefree-kick. What a hit that was!was
Let’s remember Kane’s last-minute winner against Tunisia and that f irst-half against Panama, when England did what they hadn’t done at an international tournament in at least a decade, and played like basic playground bullies? Let’s remember the penalty shoot- out against Colombia, the way they went toe-to-toe and refused to let up.
This, af ter all, is what football is all about — and if you’re new to all this, welcome! The fact that football didn’t come home wasn’t as relevant as the scintillating feeling that it just might. The fact that England might not be in a position like this again for many years shouldn’t detract from the achievement of being in this position, here. The fact that pre-season training has already star ted and soon the summer’s euphoria will give way to the falling leaves and familiar tribal rhy thms of club football doesn’t change the fact that for a month, these excellent young men reached into their bodies and souls, and gave the England fans back their team.
The years of hurt continue. But it was f un dreaming.