The BBC’s Derek ‘Robbo’ Robson on England’s failure to qualify for Euro 2008 after a pitiful performance against the croats.
Are there any excuses? Some mild ones maybe.
McClaren had almost a third-choice back four out there, plus a second-choice front two. But I knew he’d go 4-5-1!
I knew Lamps’d be back in. I knew the players, Englishmen with all the flexibility of polystyrene, would snap under the pressure of a new formation!
You know what? I withdraw comments about too many foreigners in the Premier League. There’s just too few Englishmen in Serie A and La Liga.
Becks, unfit, ponderous and playing Mickey Mouse footie in the most artificial place on God’s green earth, was the only bloke to deliver a geunine pass in the whole game (Croats aside).
I’m not going to batter Carson. Robinson should have been replaced games ago, then the lad wouldn’t have had to be given a Bonetti of a job to do on Wednesday night. As for Peter Crouch, well by gum, lad, you’re the first name in the next squad.
At half-time I felt, well, relieved. The wife’s head is on me shoulder and she’s saying: “So, can we go somewhere warm for our summer holidays now, then?”
And I’m saying: “I still want to watch all the games, pet.” And she’s saying: “I know, but you won’t mind those funny foreign commentators if there’s no Brits involved.”
And suddenly I’m free! Free from the tyranny of supporting a bunch of pampered, overpaid plonkers who couldn’t successfully make a pass at a speed-dating session for 40-year old virgins.
But then comes the comeback, dammit. And we’re back believing again, until the lad Petric, closely marked by the Ghosts of England Past but left alone by the clueless pillocks on the pitch, finishes it once and for all…
We’re off to Crete, apparently.
But before I scare the infant population of Teesside by throwing toys out of every pram in Middlesbrough, let’s just take a deep breath and count to ten… four, four, two. Continue reading ‘You don’t know what you’re doing!’
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