World Cup | 30 Yard Sniper

For various yet obvious reasons, I’m yet to feel any real enthusiasm about this World Cup as a whole. FIFA stinks. The principal host country is appalling. The bloated format is dreadful. Then you’re into unsociable kickoff times, stifling weather conditions, Sam Matterface. The list goes on and on. I just don’t have the same keen-eyed desire to lap up every last drop of the action in the way I used to.

It’s not just external factors. Non-footballing commitments such as work and parenting take up most of my free time, so by the time the kitchen is tidied up after dinner, it’s usually about 9pm and I have about 30-60 minutes of free time before dragging myself off to bed. That’s at most one hour of free time a day, and whilst I’m extremely grateful for its existence at all, it means I’ve become a lot more choosy about what I do with it. Assuming you even feel like watching TV, do you want subject your significant other to Norway vs Senegal? Sure, it was a fun game with lots of goals, but that’s beside the point. There’s perilously few situations I’m going to spend my leisure time on if it involves listening to Guy Mowbray commentating on anything (sorry, Gladiators).

Having said all that, it’s been quite enjoyable catching up on the highlights over the course of breakfast and/or the morning commute. I haven’t felt anything like the immersion of Major Tournaments past, but then that’s probably true of most people doing parenting or with more demanding life schedules. For me, this is the Tournament of Highlights. And that’s fine. My attention span is wrecked as anyone’s in the year 2026, and whilst I will always love sitting down to really engage with 90 minutes of football, it feels like a nice way of staying in touch with everything.

Of course, the one exception to all this was England vs Croatia. The first half gave me the sinking feeling that I was once again watching Arsenal trying to stodge their way to the title. Not only that, it felt like it was the “Major Tournament” version of England we’ve been used to seeing since, well, forever. No rhythm to the play, no attacking plan, just sit in and wait for a spark of genius or a set piece. Luckily Tuchel managed to SPENGE it out of them at half time and it felt like it was England playing the way they “should” have been for the last 10 years, all zippy passing and fluid attacking intent. It was beautiful and liberating to watch, and it may yet prove to be our finest hour, even as I write this on the day of England’s 2nd group game.

Rather than igniting my passion for the tournament as a whole, though, I don’t think I bothered watching any other matches or even highlights for the next 2 days. The emotional trauma of re-living Arsenal’s crawl to the title in the first half was quickly forgotten, yet I still felt like I couldn’t be arsed. In some ways, it’s the World Cup you dream of – big names scoring bags of goals, along with interesting match-ups you wouldn’t normally get to see. From a purely footballing perspective, what’s not to love?

But I’m just not there at the moment. As I’ve got older, the month of June has become more and more difficult for me in terms of mental health, and so the things I would usually enjoy don’t resonate as much. More broadly, I’m just finding I’m not that bothered about football in general anymore, and that’s with Arsenal winning the league this season. From my narrow vista on the few places I visit online, this is not uncommon among men around the same age as me. There’s a disconnect in the way modern football is presented and described – “the GREATEST and MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER” – compared to the way it makes me feel when I watch it. Like generative AI, it may sort of look authentic around the edges, but what’s inside is a hollowed out sloppy mess.

My somewhat muted interest in this year’s World Cup has however thrown up some questions.

Do you think Messi’s teammates hate Messi as much as Cristiano Ronaldo’s teammates hate Cristiano Ronaldo?
Why can’t England have a player with the surname “Canobbio”?
How often do you think Guy Mowbray watches YouTube compilations of Guy Mowbray commentary per day? 5-10? >10?
Is Sam Matterface being the voice of Google Gemini adverts the most Unholy Alliance of Fucking Awful Things that has ever existed?
Why is there a proliferation of pundits/co-commentators calling it the “football” instead of the “ball”?
Has Stephen Warnock been studying Jim Beglin’s PES co-commentary?

Anyway. It’s England vs Ghana later and I’m feeling…alright..

As we are wont to do, we look backward before looking forward to tomorrow’s World Cup quarter final match between France and England. The countries have met twice at World Cups: first, in the group stage in 1966, with England running out 2-0 winners thanks to a brace from Roger Hunt, second, at Spain ’82, again in the group stage, England winning 3-1 thanks to a couple from Bryan Robson and Plymouth’s finest Paul Mariner.

So in order not to get carried away with our 100% record against Les Bleus at World Cups, let’s revisit an old friend: Euro 2004. The only major tournament that Wayne Rooney really excelled in, it was probably the best chance the Golden Generation had to win a major tournament. Before the quarter final heartache against Portugal, there was yet another group stage match between two nations.

In the opening preamble of the highlights I’m watching, Martin Tyler talks about Beckham and Zidane being clubmates in Madrid, but are here standing next to each other in EXTREME RIVARLY. You hear that? EXTREME.

The first action is Zidane picking up the ball between the lines. England are a touch slow to close down, and he’s able get a shot away from about 25 yards, which goes wide.

Patrick Vieira crosses from the right, David Trezeguet steals a run in front of the centre backs and flashes a header just over.

Beckham buys a free kick on the right wing, which is in a great position for the set piece maestro to cross. He plays it into the box, and Frank Lampard is there to head home a fairly difficult chance that he was kind of moving backwards for. It’s a PES 2 goal if ever I’ve seen one.

Simple as anything. 2nd half now. Thierry Henry tees up a volley from 20 yards, but it’s straight at David James. England look like they’re defending a counterattack (lads, you’re winning, what are you doing), Henry cuts in on his right foot but again it’s straight at the keeper. Beckham shoots from about 30 yards but it goes over. Henry blasts over from 20 yards on his left foot.

Now then. Beckham lumps it clear from inside the England box. We’re treated to an extended shot of Bixente Lizarazu jogging up the pitch whilst Martin Tyler informs us that Rooney chases and wins the ball. We finally cut back to the match and Rooney is galloping forward, Vassell’s right there with him and it’s a 2 on 1.

It’s such an easy square ball to Vassell to wrap up the game, but he goes it alone, just getting into the box when he is absolutely clobbered by Mikael Silvestre. It looks for all the world like a penalty and a red card, but it’s only a yellow. Unlike Rotterdam 11 years ago though, a penalty is given. Urrggh, look at this. Just fucking square it!

Martin Tyler informs us that Beckham missed his last England penalty. Up he steps:

Oh, Dave. Undeterred, England still push for a 2nd. Vassell hits a bobbling shot from 25 yards that somehow catches Barthez by surprise and smashes him in the face. It looks like a blatant backpass is about to happen but the camera conveniently cuts away. CONSPIRACY. Hargreaves replaces Scholes to shore up the England midfield to help them see out the game.

Some sterling defensive work from Emile Heskey sees him boot Makelele in the chest to give away a free kick in a very dangerous area. David James lines up the wall, then stands directly behind it to give himself the least possible chance of reacting to the shot:

Go on, here it comes:

I mean, the ball goes in the net in the exact spot where David James is supposed to be fucking standing. It’s just fucking terible goalkeeping. I did enjoy him absolutely lampooning the ball at Gallas after it’s bounced out of the net, mind. There’s a shot of Beckham doing exaggerated breathing exercises, telling everyone they need to calm down.

Good advice, too – there’s not long left, a draw is a still good result, don’t do anything stupid, right Steve? Steve? STEEEEEEVE!

Jesus Christ almighty, what the fuck is he playing at! Under no pressure, the 30 yard lofted backpass to certain death. David James duly obliges with a horrendous looking tackle to give away the penalty. Could he not have challenged with his hands because it was a backpass? Not that it’d probably have made any difference anyway, for fuck’s sake.

“It’s heartbreak for England,” says Martin Tyler. Sure was. Like Shilton at Italia ’90, you knew James wasn’t getting anywhere near that. I remember being pretty distraught after this. Luckily I was staying with my uncle and I don’t really remember what else happened that evening so I presume sorrows were drowned and the world was put to rights.

England had the lead and had a golden chance to make it 2-0, but Beckham couldn’t make it count and it all fell apart terribly with Gerrard’s insane backpass of destiny. Let’s hope for better tomorrow.

Today’s feeling: at least David James isn’t in goal for the next game.

Bonus Gallery:

30 Yard Sniper

Was it something Alan said?

Category Archives: World Cup

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France vs England