Chance of glory snatched at the death, but oh, what a ride
That’s it. The dream is over. Shattered at the last. The glory days of 1966 are not to be revisited. In their first semi-final since 1990, England were defeated at the last, done by the wiliness of a wizened, seasoned Croatia team.
But nobody can gainsay what Gareth Southgate’s boys achieved over the past month in Russia.
What a remarkable dream they gave us, in the process transforming the country, stirring the collective soul, giving us something positive to gather around. Ultimately this young, enthusiastic bunch of lads, carefree and having the time of their lives, found themselves bettered.
But boy did we enjoy what they gave us. While it lasted, this was the party of the decade.
And the climax was the very stuff of misery, when the possibility of glory is snatched at the death. A winner in the second half of extra time: how close they came to success.
How are the nerves? Shredded, frayed and mangled, no doubt, hammered into dust over the space of 120 minutes of draining, grinding exhaustion. If that was how we were back home, doubled up under the pressure, imagine for a moment how it felt for the lads in white shirts out in Moscow and their magnificent leader in his M&S waistcoat.
This was sport at its most insistent, when to take the eyes from the action even just for a moment was to risk missing the critical turn of events.
This was drama of a kind unavailable on any West End stage or cinema screen. This wasn’t merely diversion or entertainment. This mattered.
More to the point, we were all in this together. Before kick-off there was tension everywhere you looked. You could see the country gripped with nerves as we all quietly headed to the pub, the park, the beach, anywhere to watch this communally.
It was not a time to be on your own. There was a need to share the moment, to be with your mates, all in it together. A team at home, mirroring the team in Russia.
On the television we were presented with the England of antiperspirant commercials and Brian Blessed betting ads, the commercial operations making the most of this sudden explosion of enthusiasm across the land. And there was a unity about the place, a lack of the usual moaning, a gratitude to this team, an acknowledgment that, unlike so many of their predecessors, whatever the ultimate result, this bunch were not going to disappear. Plus we were all unified by respect for the manager – modest, unassuming, polite, a natural ambassador, a man who you
want to be representing your country on the international stage.
Gareth love is everywhere, even more ubiquitous than the waistcoats.
His talk of grasping opportunity and trusting the players was what we all bought into. We loved it when he said that sometimes in life it is not a bad thing to be underestimated. And one thing about these England players, nobody is underestimating them now. Not after the way they played.
Southgate’s team have grown in this competition, setting the rules as they have gone on, mapping their own route. This is how young they are: only three were born in 1990 when England were last in a World Cup semi-final.
But they seized the day. From the moment Kieran Trippier’s early goal sent plumes of beer arcing into the air all around, they gave of their very best. Right till the last moment.
Ultimately, they fell short. They weren’t able to help us scratch that 52-year itch (and no, that’s not the name of the Croatia centre back). But they gave their all. Across the land