COLD SHOULDER

Keogh won’t be welcomed back to Derby by his old pals, until after the match

THE dreamy news the nation has been waiting for – we will be back in time to see England get knocked out of another major football tournament.

We will be back in time to see the Brits at Wimbledon last little longer than our first legitimate pint.

And it will matter even less than it has ever done.

You can picture it.

Croatia have turned England over, as they like to do, but Gareth Southgate’s men have scraped past the Scots.

And now – just 24 hours after all Covid restrictions have been lifted and we are in a brave, old era in front of a Wembley full house – England need to hammer the Czech Republic to go through to the knockout stage of the Euros.

Leave the rest to your imagination.

But whatever transpires, however far England go in the Euros, whoever wins Wimbledon, or The Open at Royal St George’s, or the Test series against India in August, or the British Grand Prix on July 18, it will matter even less than it has ever done.

This country has always been a sporting isle and that is not blind jingoism.

That is why Wembley is full for England football friendlies against B-listers, that is why people camp out in a field next to Wimbledon, that is why they line The Open fairways 10 deep, that is why 351,000 people went to Silverstone to watch the British Grand Prix in 2019. I went to Silverstone for the 2020 edition of the same race when there was not many more than 351 people there.

Emotionally, it was the British Grand Prix only in name. Just as, emotionally, every other major event that has taken place without fans has been a sporting occasion only in name.

Sporting authorities do not always get the best press and the suits behind the scenes certainly never get much acclaim. But they deserve rapturous applause for the way sport has adapted to demands it can never have imagined.

Let’s face it, though, picture GREAT sport and you picture the crowd. You see it, you hear it, you feel it.

The throng swarming up the 18th to watch the winning putt, the Centre Court on its feet as the victor weeps, the Silverstone roar so loud it quietens the engines, the blaze of colourful passion at Wembley.

In an ideal, fantasy-land scenario, the grand reopening of sport will be celebrated by England, Wales or Scotland winning the Euros, by a Rory Mcilroy or a Justin Rose lifting the Claret Jug, by Lewis Hamilton winning an eighth British Grand Prix, by a Brit hanging around for the second week of Wimbledon.

But whatever happens, it will matter even less than it has ever done. Jock Stein is credited with the maxim: “Football without fans is nothing.”

Whoever uttered it, he or she could have said: “Sport without fans is nothing.”

Roll on the dreamy days of summer.