Johnny Phillips: Here we go again, back on the England wagon
Should there have been any doubt that the noise would still be out there?
This was supposed to be the year little old England with their new-found likeable, humble bunch of players tottered off to the World Cup with very little fanfare or expectation, played a few games of football and popped back in time for a quick summer holiday. And Joe Public was supposed to let them get on with it.
But by nine o’clock on Monday evening, with a 2-1 victory over Tunisia in the bag, enough hot air had been emitted to power a town the size of Milton Keynes for a week. What is it with England games that everything is always blown out of all proportion? Nothing is left unsaid.
A trip down to the local pub proved an immersive experience. Short of being in Volgograd itself the boozer had made an effort, but the warning signs were there. The big screens were up – loads of them – and the tables were packed. Standing room only as the expectant hordes had gathered well in advance of kick-off. The youngsters at the front were being whipped into a frenzy of excitement by the DJ playing Fat Les’s Vindaloo on a loop and the drinks offer of two quid for a jaegerbomb.
The 'arl fellas' at the back, meanwhile, were stock-piling lukewarm pints of bitters, owing to the sign at the end of the bar cautioning there would be a 20 pence surcharge on all alcohol sold while the game was in progress. That’s London pricing for you.
The rip-roaring start Gareth Southgate’s team made ensured there would be no let-up in the atmosphere. Harry Kane’s opener was greeted with a celebration more over the top than a Dele Alli tackle. But the equaliser didn’t go down quite so well. The referee was this. The referee was that. The referee was an effing this and that.
The half-time whistle brought a stampede to the bar the like of which had not been seen since opening time on Black Friday at Dixons in Croydon. The second half proved a far more taxing watch as the punters began to get impatient. By the hour mark the head-shaking had spread across the entire pub. England were dying a slow death by a thousand tuts. Do something Southgate. Get Lingard off. Get Alli off. Get Rashford on to run at them. No, get Vardy on to run in behind. Get Loftus-Cheek on to mix it up. Is he in the squad? Yeah, he is. Get him on then. Do something Southgate.
Kane’s last-minute winner and the ensuing chaos that engulfed the tables suggested this World Cup will go the same way as every other one when it comes to England. The unreasonable hopes of a nation pinned on a bunch of 20-somethings who happen to be quite talented at football. Where has this hope come from? Kane wasn’t even born the last time England had a half-decent World Cup campaign.
Let’s just hope the players haven’t turned their phones on yet. A quick check of social media? There is nothing quite like an England World Cup fixture to smoke out expert opinion. ‘Some great positives to take from the game! Well done lads,’ announced Olly Murs. ‘The ref was s***e and did his best to ruin our night,’ blasted Trevor Nelson. ‘Get in there,’ yelped Craig Phillips, winner of the inaugural Big Brother.
Twitter’s terms and conditions must have been recently updated to make it a contractual obligation for anyone with a vague public persona to tweet about England. All night long the analysis continued, some of it was even quite considered. But it would all be lost in the tidal wave of opinion that consumes social media in the wake of these games.
Quarter of an hour after full-time would be the best moment for any government to bury bad news. Jeremy Hunt could announce a £10billion cut to NHS funding without fear of any repercussion, lobbing a press release out like a needle into a haystack of debate about Ashley Young’s effectiveness down the left side. Twenty-seven hospitals are going to close across the West Midlands but Danny Rose would have been a much better option as he wouldn’t have cut inside so much would he?
It was time to head home, taking the summer scenic route alongside the Thames, past more pubs disgorging fans on to the streets where the high-pitched football debate still filled the air. Was it possible to become immune to the chatter?
Then, out of the blue, appeared a place that hadn’t been showing the football. There in the beer garden sat two elderly couples enjoying a bottle of wine between themselves. Oblivious to planet football around them, just enjoying each other’s company and the setting sun across the river. Here they sat, at peace with the world and themselves.
What a lovely state of consciousness to have found. But, in the words of any footballer after any result, we go again. Enjoy the Panama match. And remember, if Brody from Hollyoaks says it was awesome, it must have been awesome.
