It’s said, “Go back to the beginning in order to find the answer.”
In England’s case that requires quite a long sentimental journey.
Psychology—the essence of belief is to expect in confidence. To give a hint regarding psychology, Dutch legend Johan Cruyff spent a week training with the Arsenal team in the early 1970s when he was at his superb best, and concluded that he had never seen such a bunch of natural ball players. But when they turned out for the Saturday game he could not recognize the same players who had impressed him so much in training. “Why had all the confidence evaporated?’
After England’s encounter with the men of Algeria some 40 years later, manager Fabio Capello made much the same statement when he commented, “I don’t recognize this team.”
Poor Capello had hoped to come to play and enjoy. Now what was before him was another bewildering apparition of the past.
Capello’s face contained the look of a doctor who had wrongly diagnosed a serious condition that he thought would respond to a light touch of the continental boot camp blues.
At that moment did he actually consider, like others have in the past, but were confused and perplexed by the seemingly unanswerable, “there’s something uncanny at play here folks.”
It’s difficult to suggest that England are beyond human aid, but Capello had occasionally alluded to the invisible realm of the spirit—the English spirit—that others before him have not been able to reach for the past 44 years.
The journey continues back to the arrival of the Hungarian magical Magyars in 1953 who twice hypnotized England with a footballing lesson. They became the first non-UK team to deflate the might of the English national team at an eerie misty Wembley Stadium with a crushing 6–3 win.
And later at their next meeting in 1954 they further decimated England’s reputation with a 7–1 trouncing in Budapest, which remains England’s heaviest ever defeat in international football to this day.
Was this humbling event the beginning of the world’s greatest footballing nation’s steady decline, and in line with the mysterious cycle of the rise and fall of a dynasty? If this is the case wherein lies the element of blame—when peach less blooms blossom wilt and wane?
When the World Cup draw was made in December, England were comfortably placed in Group C. “Easy” was a term frequently used to gild the sports pages.
The qualifying period required some scrutiny, and the usual undulations of form and inconsistency were still evident with a 2–2 draw against with the Czech Republic at Wembley when Rooney did not perform well, and the team were booed off after Joe Cole’s goal relieved the embarrassment.
Sure they gave a few good signals with what was called Theo Walcott’s great night in Zagreb. Then came a winning goal in the last five minutes against Ukraine and a 5–1 win against a hopeless Croatia at Wembley last September. England beat Germany 2–1 in a friendly match in Berlin late in 2008. But again this is nothing unusual for an England team as they try to elude the mysterious hand of fates decree.
With their backs to the wall, and the unthinkable up front England faced Slovenia last Wednesday, and it was surly do or die, point to the sky.
As it turned out their display against Algeria was nothing more than what a few beers could put right following a break out from the continental boot camp with John Terry loosening the bars in order to let the beer flow.
Now fearless England after releasing their fans from the rack having overcome the might of little Slovenia invite all to a Super Sunday against Germany in Bloemfontein.
They have only beaten Germany once in competition (Euro 2000) since 1966.
This column can only hope and wish them well, and trust that as they again disappear down the corridor of opposites they will emerge holding the Cup, with the whole world in their hands—the spell broken.
In England’s case that requires quite a long sentimental journey.
Psychology—the essence of belief is to expect in confidence. To give a hint regarding psychology, Dutch legend Johan Cruyff spent a week training with the Arsenal team in the early 1970s when he was at his superb best, and concluded that he had never seen such a bunch of natural ball players. But when they turned out for the Saturday game he could not recognize the same players who had impressed him so much in training. “Why had all the confidence evaporated?’
After England’s encounter with the men of Algeria some 40 years later, manager Fabio Capello made much the same statement when he commented, “I don’t recognize this team.”
Poor Capello had hoped to come to play and enjoy. Now what was before him was another bewildering apparition of the past.
Capello’s face contained the look of a doctor who had wrongly diagnosed a serious condition that he thought would respond to a light touch of the continental boot camp blues.
At that moment did he actually consider, like others have in the past, but were confused and perplexed by the seemingly unanswerable, “there’s something uncanny at play here folks.”
It’s difficult to suggest that England are beyond human aid, but Capello had occasionally alluded to the invisible realm of the spirit—the English spirit—that others before him have not been able to reach for the past 44 years.
The journey continues back to the arrival of the Hungarian magical Magyars in 1953 who twice hypnotized England with a footballing lesson. They became the first non-UK team to deflate the might of the English national team at an eerie misty Wembley Stadium with a crushing 6–3 win.
And later at their next meeting in 1954 they further decimated England’s reputation with a 7–1 trouncing in Budapest, which remains England’s heaviest ever defeat in international football to this day.
Was this humbling event the beginning of the world’s greatest footballing nation’s steady decline, and in line with the mysterious cycle of the rise and fall of a dynasty? If this is the case wherein lies the element of blame—when peach less blooms blossom wilt and wane?
When the World Cup draw was made in December, England were comfortably placed in Group C. “Easy” was a term frequently used to gild the sports pages.
The qualifying period required some scrutiny, and the usual undulations of form and inconsistency were still evident with a 2–2 draw against with the Czech Republic at Wembley when Rooney did not perform well, and the team were booed off after Joe Cole’s goal relieved the embarrassment.
Sure they gave a few good signals with what was called Theo Walcott’s great night in Zagreb. Then came a winning goal in the last five minutes against Ukraine and a 5–1 win against a hopeless Croatia at Wembley last September. England beat Germany 2–1 in a friendly match in Berlin late in 2008. But again this is nothing unusual for an England team as they try to elude the mysterious hand of fates decree.
With their backs to the wall, and the unthinkable up front England faced Slovenia last Wednesday, and it was surly do or die, point to the sky.
As it turned out their display against Algeria was nothing more than what a few beers could put right following a break out from the continental boot camp with John Terry loosening the bars in order to let the beer flow.
Now fearless England after releasing their fans from the rack having overcome the might of little Slovenia invite all to a Super Sunday against Germany in Bloemfontein.
They have only beaten Germany once in competition (Euro 2000) since 1966.
This column can only hope and wish them well, and trust that as they again disappear down the corridor of opposites they will emerge holding the Cup, with the whole world in their hands—the spell broken.
