THEY DELIVER THIS TIME?
And in our possession, too, a dream of European Championship glory to wipe out those 50 years of hurt since our 1966 England heroes lifted the Jules Rimet trophy at Wembley.
Tears have been our only souvenirs since then.
England have frozen on the big stage time and again to leave fans at home and abroad suffering repeated nightmares.
Not progressing beyond the quarter-finals since Euro 96, when they were KO’d on penalties, of course, by Germany is a truly sad record for generations of players we believed in and supported with a passion they never justified.
Now, the time has come to mend those broken hearts.
It is time to dream that 2016 will give us a story to rewrite those dismal record books.
Give us something to relate to our kids and grandkids. Give us stories of heroics, brilliance and chest-thumping hysteria.
Give us an England captain beaming under a cascade of red, white and blue tickertape as he lifts the Euro crown. We can but dream ... The first step to what could be a month of unforgettable memories took me to a little corner of England, halfway between two major capitals of football Liverpool.
To Grappenhall Ex-Servicemen’s Club on the outskirts of Warrington, where a fan zone was passionately created to match the fervour of the fellow faithful 800 miles away in the birthplace of King Eric Cantona.
Faces were painted red and white. Smiling folk were fed a steady supply of pizzas and hot-dogs, with a feast of European football to follow.
Up on the big screen was the first glimpse of our Three Lions boys, belting out God Save The Queen.
They then commenced battle against the Russian foe to heartfelt cheers – from fan-zone masses here, in France – and 20 million watching on TV across the land.
The euphoria I witnessed at the Ex- Servicemen’s was heavily mingled with tension.
The excitement was palpable. But then we’ve all been here before haven’t we? Sitting comfortably on Cloud Nine before yet another painful crash down to earth. But somehow this felt different. It always does, I know, but the kids in their replica kits and red jesters’ hats still screamed their – Manchester and encouragement with hope in their hearts as our campaign got underway.
They stood in anticipation when Adam Lallana almost gave England a flying start.
The boys in white were red-hot from the very start.
Harry Kane was a stud length from the opening goal.
Raheem Sterling was on fire. Skipper Wayne Rooney led by example. Dele Alli, a mini-Merlin. The signs were good. The kids happy as bedtime passed.
God did we need a goal as Rooney and the rest dominated.
The Russians were as mobile at the back as an Iron Curtain as they struggled to cope with an all-out England attacking force.
If justice had been served then this would have been a cakewalk for Roy Hodgson’s men. Instead we had to suffer last-minute heartache when Denis Glushakov grabbed an equaliser Russia barely deserved.
But on this high- calibre display the dream is very much alive.
Bring on the Welsh! BOYS OF ’66: Bobby Moore