England at Euro 2024? It’s (insert year here) all over again
This should have been the lasting image of Englandin 2024.
In the 87th minute, with England 1-0 down to Slovakiain the round of 16 at the European Championship, Jordan Pickfordcaught a shot. He sprinted to the edge of the area, desperate to relaunch the attack. In front of him were 10 white-shirted players, and they were all walking.
Pickford was furious; gesticulating, shouting, imploring. This was a losing jockey without a whip, and the finish line was fast approaching. England were without drive, without desperation, and they were frankly without hope.
Really, this was England’s 2016 Euros exit to Iceland in the French city of Nice, slouching 540 miles (868km) north to Gelsenkirchen in Germany to be reborn.
Declan Ricehad hit the post. Harry Kanehad put a header wide from seven yards. Phil Fodenhad a goal correctly disallowed for offside. To describe these moments in too much detail would give a false impression of the game. England, fifth in the world rankings, were not hammering on 45th-placed Slovakia’s door. They looked like bored teenagers who couldn’t even be tempted to play knock-knock ginger. They did not have a shot on target until the 95th minute.
For over an hour after Ivan Schranz’s opener, it looked as if Euros humiliations against Icelandand Slovakia would bookend Gareth Southgate’s reign. Eight years ago, Roy Hodgson did not even want to do the post-match press conference after that 2-1 loss in Nice. Southgate is too adept to take that drastic step, but the eventual outcome would have been the same.
But, of course, this wasn’t England in 2016.
This was England in 1990, down in a hole, but hauling themselves out with an invisible rope.
England were miserable against Belgiumin that year’s World Cup last-16, too: staid, turgid, and unable to score.
Then, in the final minute of extra time, came a looping Paul Gascoigne free kick from midway in the Belgian half, a spin and a volley. Back then, it was David Platt wheeling away with a silly grin on his face, a mix of incredulity at the goal, the moment, and his own sheer brilliance.
It was different with Jude Bellinghamin 2024. For one thing, this was England behind and facing elimination, not needing a winner to take them through without resorting to the penalty shootout that was moments away. And when the opportunity for the bicycle kick arose, it wasn’t the chance for a moment of majesty; it was the moment to do what should be done, because this is Jude Bellingham and this is nothing but normal to him now.
“Who else!?,” he shouted, and as much as that possibly revealed an insight to be unpacked into the social cohesion of this England squad, the reality is that he knows that we know that he is right.
Bellingham was the reason why Sunday wasn’t England in 2016. But as he sprinted away with grim relief, this also felt different, it felt new, because this wasn’t England in 1990 either.
For 89 minutes, this felt like a team who shared more with England in 2006: a team of superb talents, forced into a system that did not fit them. They played in Gelsenkirchen then too, exiting that year’s World Cup there, to Portugalon penalties after a goalless quarter-final when it felt like they could have been so much more. Quality crowbarred into a cage.
Now, it is easy to be frustrated at Kieran Trippier. Particularly when he cuts inside, launches England’s best chance of the first half vertically upwards, cuts inside again, plays a poor pass after three minutes which gets Marc Guehibooked and suspended for the quarter-finals, and cuts inside for a third time.
But it should be easy to feel sorry for Trippier, because he did not ask to play left-back, and did not select a patently unfit player as first-choice for that position in this tournament. If invited to play there — as he did so well in the previous Euros three years ago — he will give it a go, even if his legs are going at almost 34 and cannot strike the ball as cleanly as they once did.
Ahead of him, Foden was better than in previous matches but still looked like a boy banned from playing with his friends. At points, it felt as if the entire team were in on this collective punishment. John Stoneshad several opportunities to find him between the lines, with Foden drifting centrally, but his Manchester Cityteam-mate refused to give him his turn with the ball.
And in this sense, it wasn’t just the England of 2006, but the England of 1872, the country’s first-ever international.
Put into a white shirt, these looked like players who had never played together before. At times, they even looked like players who, having met, found they did not particularly like each other. There was even, dare it be said, a flavour of France at the 2010 World Cup.
As England struggled to progress the ball upfield against Slovakia, this was a team filled with shrugs and complaints. There was Stones, gesturing at his lack of midfield runners. (Foden was among them). Cole Palmer, newly on and dancing, but lacking any partner — so he held out hisarms and waited.
The body language from virtually the entire squad was terrible. If there had been a way to harness the energy exhaled during England’s frustrations, it probably could have brought the green transition forward by a decade or more.
But ultimately, this was not Francein 2010. That team, beset by difficulty, crashed out after the group stage — England are still just about there, into the last eight. And why? Tactics borrowed from England in 1954.
With Ivan Toneyon in second-half stoppage time, big men were back.
The Brentfordstriker did his best Nat Lofthouse impression for two minutes of normal time and all 30 of extra time. England were launching long throws into the box, Toney was backing into opposition players and causing chaos. Look at how he took out Norbert Gyomber. That was what created a channel for Bellingham.
One minute into extra time — another goal straight out of the era of post-Second World War rationing.
Palmer delivered an inswinger, a new invention at that time, Martin Dubravkapunched clear, and Eberechi Ezemishit a shot back into the box. Those leather balls have a small sweet spot. Ultimately, it was Toney who delivered the cushioned header — and England’s captain leapt at the far post to head what proved the winner. A narrativeless way of looking at England’s comeback? A long throw, a set piece and a scrap.
This was an England of many Englands.
Other contenders? Graham Taylor’s England of a failed World Cup qualifying attempt in 1993, where a good man was going to have to walk, but it looked like he’d had enough anyway. An England of 1982, who exited that World Cup’s second group stage with two 0-0 draws of such deathly nothingness that they have virtually been forgotten. The unloved England of 2010, because they had their fans booing them in the groups, too.
The mood on Sunday felt toxic after 85 minutes.
But ultimately, this is still the England that began in 2018… just. The personnel are clinging on.
Southgate has more grey in his beard, lines on his forehead, and voices telling him he should go. There is still a little of that belief he introduced six years ago — because what other England team has ever scored a last-minute goal to stay in a major tournament?
In 2024, this England may look ordinary. But there is only one side left to evoke. The England who won a major tournament (having started, despite the benefit of playing on home soil, with eight minutes shy of three straight goalless halves).
Fifty-eight years on, a dozen other Englands combined — preserving the faintest of chances that they could yet be that one missing side.
England at Euro 2024? It’s (insert year here) all over again
This should have been the lasting image of Englandin 2024.
In the 87th minute, with England 1-0 down to Slovakiain the round of 16 at the European Championship, Jordan Pickfordcaught a shot. He sprinted to the edge of the area, desperate to relaunch the attack. In front of him were 10 white-shirted players, and they were all walking.
Pickford was furious; gesticulating, shouting, imploring. This was a losing jockey without a whip, and the finish line was fast approaching. England were without drive, without desperation, and they were frankly without hope.
Really, this was England’s 2016 Euros exit to Iceland in the French city of Nice, slouching 540 miles (868km) north to Gelsenkirchen in Germany to be reborn.
Declan Ricehad hit the post. Harry Kanehad put a header wide from seven yards. Phil Fodenhad a goal correctly disallowed for offside. To describe these moments in too much detail would give a false impression of the game. England, fifth in the world rankings, were not hammering on 45th-placed Slovakia’s door. They looked like bored teenagers who couldn’t even be tempted to play knock-knock ginger. They did not have a shot on target until the 95th minute.
For over an hour after Ivan Schranz’s opener, it looked as if Euros humiliations against Icelandand Slovakia would bookend Gareth Southgate’s reign. Eight years ago, Roy Hodgson did not even want to do the post-match press conference after that 2-1 loss in Nice. Southgate is too adept to take that drastic step, but the eventual outcome would have been the same.
But, of course, this wasn’t England in 2016.
This was England in 1990, down in a hole, but hauling themselves out with an invisible rope.
England were miserable against Belgiumin that year’s World Cup last-16, too: staid, turgid, and unable to score.
Then, in the final minute of extra time, came a looping Paul Gascoigne free kick from midway in the Belgian half, a spin and a volley. Back then, it was David Platt wheeling away with a silly grin on his face, a mix of incredulity at the goal, the moment, and his own sheer brilliance.
It was different with Jude Bellinghamin 2024. For one thing, this was England behind and facing elimination, not needing a winner to take them through without resorting to the penalty shootout that was moments away. And when the opportunity for the bicycle kick arose, it wasn’t the chance for a moment of majesty; it was the moment to do what should be done, because this is Jude Bellingham and this is nothing but normal to him now.
“Who else!?,” he shouted, and as much as that possibly revealed an insight to be unpacked into the social cohesion of this England squad, the reality is that he knows that we know that he is right.
Bellingham was the reason why Sunday wasn’t England in 2016. But as he sprinted away with grim relief, this also felt different, it felt new, because this wasn’t England in 1990 either.
For 89 minutes, this felt like a team who shared more with England in 2006: a team of superb talents, forced into a system that did not fit them. They played in Gelsenkirchen then too, exiting that year’s World Cup there, to Portugalon penalties after a goalless quarter-final when it felt like they could have been so much more. Quality crowbarred into a cage.
Now, it is easy to be frustrated at Kieran Trippier. Particularly when he cuts inside, launches England’s best chance of the first half vertically upwards, cuts inside again, plays a poor pass after three minutes which gets Marc Guehibooked and suspended for the quarter-finals, and cuts inside for a third time.
But it should be easy to feel sorry for Trippier, because he did not ask to play left-back, and did not select a patently unfit player as first-choice for that position in this tournament. If invited to play there — as he did so well in the previous Euros three years ago — he will give it a go, even if his legs are going at almost 34 and cannot strike the ball as cleanly as they once did.
Ahead of him, Foden was better than in previous matches but still looked like a boy banned from playing with his friends. At points, it felt as if the entire team were in on this collective punishment. John Stoneshad several opportunities to find him between the lines, with Foden drifting centrally, but his Manchester Cityteam-mate refused to give him his turn with the ball.
And in this sense, it wasn’t just the England of 2006, but the England of 1872, the country’s first-ever international.
Put into a white shirt, these looked like players who had never played together before. At times, they even looked like players who, having met, found they did not particularly like each other. There was even, dare it be said, a flavour of France at the 2010 World Cup.
As England struggled to progress the ball upfield against Slovakia, this was a team filled with shrugs and complaints. There was Stones, gesturing at his lack of midfield runners. (Foden was among them). Cole Palmer, newly on and dancing, but lacking any partner — so he held out hisarms and waited.
The body language from virtually the entire squad was terrible. If there had been a way to harness the energy exhaled during England’s frustrations, it probably could have brought the green transition forward by a decade or more.
But ultimately, this was not Francein 2010. That team, beset by difficulty, crashed out after the group stage — England are still just about there, into the last eight. And why? Tactics borrowed from England in 1954.
With Ivan Toneyon in second-half stoppage time, big men were back.
The Brentfordstriker did his best Nat Lofthouse impression for two minutes of normal time and all 30 of extra time. England were launching long throws into the box, Toney was backing into opposition players and causing chaos. Look at how he took out Norbert Gyomber. That was what created a channel for Bellingham.
One minute into extra time — another goal straight out of the era of post-Second World War rationing.
Palmer delivered an inswinger, a new invention at that time, Martin Dubravkapunched clear, and Eberechi Ezemishit a shot back into the box. Those leather balls have a small sweet spot. Ultimately, it was Toney who delivered the cushioned header — and England’s captain leapt at the far post to head what proved the winner. A narrativeless way of looking at England’s comeback? A long throw, a set piece and a scrap.
This was an England of many Englands.
Other contenders? Graham Taylor’s England of a failed World Cup qualifying attempt in 1993, where a good man was going to have to walk, but it looked like he’d had enough anyway. An England of 1982, who exited that World Cup’s second group stage with two 0-0 draws of such deathly nothingness that they have virtually been forgotten. The unloved England of 2010, because they had their fans booing them in the groups, too.
The mood on Sunday felt toxic after 85 minutes.
But ultimately, this is still the England that began in 2018… just. The personnel are clinging on.
Southgate has more grey in his beard, lines on his forehead, and voices telling him he should go. There is still a little of that belief he introduced six years ago — because what other England team has ever scored a last-minute goal to stay in a major tournament?
In 2024, this England may look ordinary. But there is only one side left to evoke. The England who won a major tournament (having started, despite the benefit of playing on home soil, with eight minutes shy of three straight goalless halves).
Fifty-eight years on, a dozen other Englands combined — preserving the faintest of chances that they could yet be that one missing side.
