I watched England play Italy the other night.
It was the quarter final so as usual they got knocked out on penalties.
I had been quite satisfied earlier in the tournament with their effort and with their attempts to be the best team in the tournament at throwing themselves headlong in the way of the ball to stop it going near the net. Kicking it in the general direction of a colleague they weren't too good at, but the full length blocking dive, they'd got that off to a tee.
But I was very disappointed in their efforts against Italy. They were out on their feet from the start of the second half onwards, Rooney looking like he was running in concrete wellies and a lot of the others looking like they were running through treacle. How come England are always so bloody tired these days? These are young fit lads!
Anyway, I was pretty much over it before I'd even gone over and switched the telly off. I don't know if it's just because I'm older, but I don't get upset when England lose anymore. I just shrug and move on. Losing to Italy this week or Germany in 2010 just doesn't hurt anymore, not like in 1986 and 1990. In those days I felt depressed for days afterwards. It's well documented that I always tend to blame Shilton for these defeats rather than Maradona or the Germans and that may be a bit unfair, because after the Italy game this week I watched a documentary called 'One night in Turin' about England's run to the semi final at the 1990 World Cup and in it Shilton did quite a few good saves, and he also won 125 more caps for England than I did, so on reflection I should probably give him a break.
There were some other things I noticed about the 1990 tournament in this documentary which I'd never noticed before.
That goal that Platt scored against Belgium in the 120th minute came after Gazza ran from his own half and got fouled just outside the Belgian penalty area. In the 120th minute it was! And Gazza was leaving people for dead, sprinting past them at speed, with the ball. And there were other clips of him running with the ball late in games, and it was obvious that he was super-fit, and so were the players around him. And somehow that made me feel doubly sad about England just folding up at half time the other night.
Another thing I saw in the documentary from 1990 which I'd never seen before was this. When Chris Waddle misses the deciding penalty the camera stays on him as he's walking away back to the centre circle and the Germany captain Lothar Matthaus follows him and tries to commiserate with him. And I thought that was pretty admirable. His team had just got through the World Cup Final and instead of going and jumping on a pile of Germans, he took the time to try and comfort one of the team he'd just beaten. I also remember reading in Stuart Pearce's autobiography about how he had to give a urine sample after the match and he couldn't and he was waiting around for a while with a couple of the victorious German side, and instead of making a big deal of just having won, they were quiet and respectful and there was no gloating, and somehow all this gave me a new found respect for the Germans of 1990.
And it also brought back to me how I used to feel watching the England team in 1990, which was exactly half my life ago. Watching Waddle and Beardsley and Barnes and Lineker and Butcher and Platt and Pearce and Parker and Walker and Wright and even Shilton but especially Gazza. Running and running from the first minute to the 120th. And not only running around like headless diving chickens, but running around with purpose and passing the ball to each other, and looking not only good enough to be in the semi final, but looking good enough to win the World Cup.
And I wondered what's gone wrong since then, and why I don't feel like that anymore.
It was the quarter final so as usual they got knocked out on penalties.
I had been quite satisfied earlier in the tournament with their effort and with their attempts to be the best team in the tournament at throwing themselves headlong in the way of the ball to stop it going near the net. Kicking it in the general direction of a colleague they weren't too good at, but the full length blocking dive, they'd got that off to a tee.
But I was very disappointed in their efforts against Italy. They were out on their feet from the start of the second half onwards, Rooney looking like he was running in concrete wellies and a lot of the others looking like they were running through treacle. How come England are always so bloody tired these days? These are young fit lads!
Anyway, I was pretty much over it before I'd even gone over and switched the telly off. I don't know if it's just because I'm older, but I don't get upset when England lose anymore. I just shrug and move on. Losing to Italy this week or Germany in 2010 just doesn't hurt anymore, not like in 1986 and 1990. In those days I felt depressed for days afterwards. It's well documented that I always tend to blame Shilton for these defeats rather than Maradona or the Germans and that may be a bit unfair, because after the Italy game this week I watched a documentary called 'One night in Turin' about England's run to the semi final at the 1990 World Cup and in it Shilton did quite a few good saves, and he also won 125 more caps for England than I did, so on reflection I should probably give him a break.
There were some other things I noticed about the 1990 tournament in this documentary which I'd never noticed before.
That goal that Platt scored against Belgium in the 120th minute came after Gazza ran from his own half and got fouled just outside the Belgian penalty area. In the 120th minute it was! And Gazza was leaving people for dead, sprinting past them at speed, with the ball. And there were other clips of him running with the ball late in games, and it was obvious that he was super-fit, and so were the players around him. And somehow that made me feel doubly sad about England just folding up at half time the other night.
Another thing I saw in the documentary from 1990 which I'd never seen before was this. When Chris Waddle misses the deciding penalty the camera stays on him as he's walking away back to the centre circle and the Germany captain Lothar Matthaus follows him and tries to commiserate with him. And I thought that was pretty admirable. His team had just got through the World Cup Final and instead of going and jumping on a pile of Germans, he took the time to try and comfort one of the team he'd just beaten. I also remember reading in Stuart Pearce's autobiography about how he had to give a urine sample after the match and he couldn't and he was waiting around for a while with a couple of the victorious German side, and instead of making a big deal of just having won, they were quiet and respectful and there was no gloating, and somehow all this gave me a new found respect for the Germans of 1990.
And it also brought back to me how I used to feel watching the England team in 1990, which was exactly half my life ago. Watching Waddle and Beardsley and Barnes and Lineker and Butcher and Platt and Pearce and Parker and Walker and Wright and even Shilton but especially Gazza. Running and running from the first minute to the 120th. And not only running around like headless diving chickens, but running around with purpose and passing the ball to each other, and looking not only good enough to be in the semi final, but looking good enough to win the World Cup.
And I wondered what's gone wrong since then, and why I don't feel like that anymore.
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