This posting formed part of an e-mail message to friends in July 2006.
Well the World Cup was a recurring nightmare for English fans. So much anticipation and so little to applaud and be grateful for. We really did have a golden generation of footballers but they played like goldielockses. We just ask too much of our players I reckon every season and come May/June they’re just completely knackered. Sven didn’t help with his squad selection and tournament tactics but I’m convinced in World Cup and Euro Championship years England squad members should finish playing at end April to give them time to rest and recover, then prepare completely. But with titles/promotions/relegations at stake and cups to play for, there’s no chance of course. So when England were knocked out against those dirty cheating Leeds-like Portuguese (perhaps it’s worth reminding myself that it was Rooney who stamped on Carvalho’s genitals) I didn’t cry. I simply shifted my allegiance to my adopted country, Italy, whose team happened to be running into form at just the right time. Call me cynical, I don’t care. Continue reading