History has its share of bad jobs. In medieval times, one could be unfortunate enough to be the gong farmer, whose position involved mucking out cesspits. More recently, one could have been conscripted to the Soviet punishment battalions in WWII, in which case one would be expected to clear minefields by running through them. However, neither of these come close (metaphorically speaking) to the gauntlet that the manager of the English team must run. Granted, the job pays well, but one has to endure the brickbats of the media and the public, who expect great things, while dealing with a team that has consistently failed to deliver the goods. And you'll be fired if you can't come up with a good excuse for your failure.
For the past quarter-century, the refrain has been the same. But for the Hand Of God, England would have won 1986. But for Stuart Pearce and Chris Waddle missing penalties, they would have won 1990. But for Gareth Southgate, they would have won in 1996. But for David Beckham's sending off, they would have won in 1998. But for David Seaman's dodgy goalkeeping, they would have won in 2002. But for Sol Campbell having a goal disallowed, they would have won in 2004. But for penalties, they would have won in 2006. And but for Frank Lampard having a goal disallowed, they would have won in 2010.
England are not a bad team. They are currently ranked 4th in the world. They are backed by the biggest, richest and deepest league on the planet. There are plenty of English players in recent years who could be considered the best in the world in their position. In 2004. they had an unmatched midfield in David Beckham, Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard and Paul Scholes. Wayne Rooney is currently the match of any forward, with the possible exceptions of his United teammate Javier Hernandez and his former United teammate Carlos Tevez. Yet, when it comes to the crunch, England are simply incapable of delivering.
The truth is, England aren't one of Europe's top teams of the past few years. Nobody would compare them to Germany, Spain, the Netherlands, France or Italy's recent records. While, on their day, England made a fight of it with those, there are equally a host of lower teams who made a fight of things with England. Consider that the last time England progressed past the quarter-finals of the World Cup or European Championships was 1996. Since then, three European teams have won the World Cup, and two others have been runners-up. Even lowly Greece managed a win in Euro 2004.
And yet, the myth persists among a certain segment of the English fanbase and media that their country is a match and more for Europe's, and indeed the world's finest teams. In much the same way that there is a certain type of Liverpool fan who believes that because two decades ago they won the old First Division, they deserve to be taken seriously as title contenders this season, so there is the England fan who uses 1966 as his proxy and assumes that the team will be there or thereabouts in the final shakeup of any tournament.
This arrogance derives from a few factors. England is, after all, the home of football, and there is still an assumption that this fact alone entitles them to a seat at football's top table. Witness the howls of outrage when Russia was awarded the 2018 World Cup, and England only got a paltry two votes. Amidst the English public and media working themselves into a collective fit, nobody stopped to consider that maybe Russia deserved to win on merit, or that the very sense of entitlement that led to this uproar might have alienated FIFA. Instead, the perception was that Russia got the vote because they cheated, an allegation that has yet to be substantiated (All the investigative work has so far only uncovered allegations that Qatar cheated on its bid, not Russia).
Then there is the Premier League. It dwarfs all other football leagues. Only America's Big Three (NFL, NBA and MLB) can match the Premiership's moneymaking capacities. Given that the four English teams in the Champion's League routinely get out of their groups, and an English team usually figures in the final (every year since 2005, with the exception of 2010, and two in 2008), there is a fallacy that because England has good teams, the English team is correspondingly good.
A corollary to this is the fact that the Premiership's wealth means it is willing to pay top dollar for players. English players command a premium for a few reasons. Firstly, they won't fall afoul of any proposed homegrown players rules. Secondly, they're less likely to get itchy feet. Plenty of England's top foreigners, most recently Carlos Tevez and Cristiano Ronaldo, end up exiting their clubs to move abroad, whereas very few English players do so. As a result, there is a reliability factor that increases the value of domestic players. However, none of this is apparent to the casual fan. The assumption is that seeing as English players trade for similar or greater amounts than foreign ones, they are logically as good, if not better. Was Andy Carroll really worth £37m? Probably not, but forever more, that figure will be associated with him.
Thus, there is a tendency in England to overestimate the strength of the team, and even when this isn't the case, the sense of entitlement leads many fans to disregard facts on the ground. As one of my colleagues pointed out (he was referring to rugby, but it applies equally to the football team) there is little effective analysis of the team's performances beyond the direct work of the managerial team. When England do well at a tournament, there is no postmortem to try and see what went right over the previous few years. Rather, it is regarded as the natural order simply reasserting itself.
When they lose, it's even worse. There is little incentive for the team to learn from its mistakes. Rather, the country and the media focuses on a supposed proximate cause for the defeat, the but-for defence. So David Seaman lost in 2002, and dodgy refereeing cost them in 1986, 2004 and 2010. It is interesting to note that in both 1994 and 2008, where there was no obvious cause for England's failings, the manager got the sack. In other words, if you can't find a scapegoat, create one.
This attitude is disastrous for the English game. It means that, instead of being able to take a dispassionate look at how an adverse result came about, there is a common belief that the team was merely unlucky or hard done by the referee. It pins the failings on someone else. As a result, the primary lesson England drew from Frank Lampard's disallowed goal against Germany in 2010 was the need for goal line technology. The far more important fact that they lost 4-1, and that the reason Lampard took such a long-range shot was that England were completely unable to breach the German defence was lost in the collective huff at another dodgy refereeing decision.
Granted, England have been unfortunate on more than one occasion. The 2004 quarter-finals should have never gone to penalties, but Sol Campbell had a perfectly legitimate goal disallowed. The problem is that the valid complaints justify the invalid ones. Cases where referees have been harsh on England are assumed to be part of a wider conspiracy, and cases where they have been lenient are ignored.
The classic case is 1986 against Argentina. Most observers agreed that Argentina dominated the game, and that the 2-1 scoreline was lucky for England. Yet this is ignored, in favour of fulminating about Diego Maradona's "Hand of God" goal. Even the admiration displayed by the English for the second goal, the so-called "Goal of the Century", is a form of psychological crutch, as it allows the narrative to form that England lost because of cheating and a miracle goal.
And then we have penalties, England's perpetual bugbear. Woe betide anyone who misses a penalty in a shootout. Their name will be ranked alongside those of Stuart Pearce, Gareth Southgate, and all the others who have been inscribed on England's wall of shame. The last thing a penalty taker needs is that pressure.
This attitude stands in stark contrast with Germany. Following a couple of (by German standards) disappointing competitions around the turn of the century, the Germans did a top to bottom overhaul of their national team, encouraging clubs to specialise in young homegrown talent. England, on the other hand, returned to grumbling.
Yet England would consider the Germans, and possibly the Argentinians, as their major rivals. Political considerations also play a part (don't mention the wars...), but the implicit assumption is that England are as good as either of the other two. The problem is that neither of the other teams reciprocate this sense of rivalry. Few Germans remember 1966, because, after all, they've lost three finals since then (to Italy, Argentina and Brazil). Indeed, most Germans would consider the Dutch or the Argentinians to be their rivals, rather than England, who are considered second-rate. The same holds true for Argentina, who would regard the Germans as their big rivals.
The sad truth is that England are caught in a trap of their own making. Their sense of entitlement may well have put potential voters off awarding them the 2018 World Cup, which in turn further irritated that problem. The perception that England is the victim of bad luck or biased refereeing is equally persistent, as every match will have its share of both, so the public will undoubtedly find something to latch onto.
Perversely, England's best hopes may lie in a string of unequivocally bad results, preferably extending beyond the reign of Fabio Capello (assuming he got sacked). In the same way that the past two seasons swept away much of Liverpool's hubris, so too might England finally have to face up to the fact that their abilities do not match up to their aspirations. Then the necessary reforms might be made.
End of Part 1.
Next week, I'll be looking at how the English media negatively affects their team's chances. Till then;
Greg Bowler once waved an English flag in a bar in Spain. In fairness, he was drunk at the time.
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