Eeeeeveryone remembers the Koeman foul, followed by the no penalty, the yellow card, and then Koeman scoring the bloody free kick at the other end. Everything else though? Not a scooby. For me anyway. Let’s go back to October 1993…

The experience of Paul Parker is preferred to Rob Jones, who’d won a quarter of his eventual 8 caps by this point. Stuart Pearce is injured so Tony Dorigo replaces him. Paul Merson plays as a striker instead of Ian Wright. Ok then. I think it’s fair to say this team is a little…unbalanced.

Shit the bed, lads. We’re fucked!

Dorigo’s receding, curly mullet is an absolute joy, and I’d probably have picked him all the time just for that reason. 6 minutes gone, and as Overmars glides to the byline, Brian Moore informs us that “Overmars goes past him again.” 6 minutes in! Lee Sharpe, can you track the fuck back please? The cut back finds Bryan Roy, who touches deftly back to Bergkamp, but he blazes it over. Warning signs.

Some pretty slapdash build up in midfield, with 2 obvious handballs missed by the ref, leads to Merson playing in Platt down the right. It’s a tight angle but he hits it well and De Goey turns it behind for a corner.

Merson turns De Wolf brilliantly down the left, leaving his glorious mullet swishing in the breeze. He cuts inside and shoots just wide. Should have laid it off to Shearer who had made a run into the box.

Ince makes a surging run forward, playing a 1-2 with Alan Shearer and is subsequently clobbered by Ronald Koeman. He’s pretty fucking late, he’s jumping off the ground and knees Ince in the back, but it’s not a yellow card apparently. Still, free kick in a good position.

Here comes Tony Dorigo. SHIT! Hits the post. Slight deflection off Tony Adams, but so close! You can hear Ron Atkinson start to shout “YEAA-” but he cuts himself off when it doesn’t go in.

Dorigo hits a massive up and under into the box. Merson flicks it on to Platt, who finds Tony Adams in space in the box. His first touch isn’t brilliant, but he hits a beautiful deft chip over the onrushing De Goey, only to see his shot cleared off the line. ARGH! Great effort from Big Tone. England have been in the ascendancy since that Bergkamp chance.

Roy is giving Parker a torrid time down Holland’s left flank. He twists and turns and eventually puts in a cross to Bergkamp, who again blazes over from 15 yards, though this was a much more difficult chance than the first one.

The ball’s played in from Holland’s left flank, Rijkaard steals in and tucks it away. But no! Offside flag is up. Let’s do some 29 years late VAR…

Jeeeeesus. Just the 4 yards onside? Fucking hell! “He wasn’t offisde,” says Ron Atkinson. As Rijkaard jogs back, you briefly see Tony Adams applauding the linesman for getting it “right”.

Half time: Netherlands 0-0 England. Looked like a mismatch on paper, but England have had their chances.

Platt gives it away just inside the Dutch half with a terribly undercooked pass, and suddenly it’s 4 on 4. Bergkamp strides forward with it, but hits a rather tame shot at Seaman, who probably should have held it but puts it behind for a corner.

Ok, here we go. Expectedly direct stuff from this England. Adams intercepts it, plays a ball forward to Shearer, who flicks it wide right for Sinton, who just lumps it high and forward. The Dutch line is so high, and De Goey wants nothing to do with it, so it just hangs in the air for ages. Koeman can’t run, he’s the last man and Platt gets there first…

“That’s got to be a penalty! Penalty given!” says Brian Moore. Yes! Get in.

And here’s the ref running into the box to give the penalty. His decision is final, remember.

Bollocks! Overturned by the linesman. Well, fair enough, I think it was just outside the box. But don’t worry, Shearer’s there to helpfully remind the ref what colour card he needs, just in case he’s forgotten. It’s red, ref, red is the colour.

Oh, fuck off. FUCK OFF. Fuck off you absolute fuck. “He’s through, with a clear goalscoring opportunity. Red card! He’s given a yellow.” Even the unflappably balanced and neutral Brian Moore can’t hide his absolute disdain for this fucking shit shower of a referee, who has fucking bottled it.

You’re right Didier, you’re absolutely right.

Dick Advocaat. Dick Bomboclaat more like. Dorigo’s subsequent free kick is charged down from about 3 yards away by an encroaching Dutch player, but obviously, no-one cares. Least of all the ref. Moore calms down quickly and remembers Rijkaard’s offside goal from the first half that should have stood. Yes, well, shut up Brian.

Having received tacit permission from the ref that they can now do whatever the fuck they want, Erwin Koeman actually tries to kill Paul Parker with this “challenge”, which is beyond late and actually, truly fucking horrendous.

“Knees? Where we’re going, you won’t need KNEES!”

Some nice build up play sees Wouters breaking between the centre backs. Pallister slides in and brings him down right on the edge of the box. Adams was there covering and it’s a stupid challenge.

The Dutch fans having the gall to ask for a red card after the Koeman travesty, I don’t know. And yeah, who hasn’t been to a football match in full blackface. What the fuck?

Koeman’s taking the free kick, because of course he fucking is.

And it’s blocked by Ince! Haaa! Fuck you, shithead.

Ah, what’s this now? Ince is booked for encroaching. Well, at least he’s consistent. What’s that?

Oh, just the Dutch player doing exactly the same thing THREE FUCKING MINUTES earlier, for which nothing was given, NOTHING? Bra-fucking-vo you absolute fucking cretin, ref.

“He’s gonna flick one. He’s gonna flick one! HE’S GONNA FLICK ONE!”

Well fucking bollocks and bullshit and bollocks and fuck you, ref. Fuck. After saying, “And it’s in!”, Moore is silent for what feels like an eternity, letting the England fans stew and curse in whichever freestyle manner they choose, because what can you fucking say about it? Other than fuck. FUCK. FUUUUUUCK.

And just moments later, we’ve got a free kick about 30 yards out. I think Dorigo’s had enough goes, so it’s Merson’s turn.

Hits the fucking post again! ARRRRRGH. Twice now. For fuck’s sake! Brilliant free kick. So close.

Some excellent build up play from the Dutch in the final third, lovely one touch stuff, and it comes to Bergkamp, who looks to place what would become one of his trademark curlers in the bottom corner. Seaman saves superbly, and then is up in a flash to make another fantastic stop from Rijkaard. Brilliant double save.

Ian Wright is ready to come on. Meanwhile, Dorigo has another long range pop, this time fizzing it just wide.

Well would you believe it. After all their brilliant technical build up play that amounted to nothing, the Dutch 2nd goal is the most route one, Graham Taylor would be proud of it goal of the entire qualifying campaign. Fitting in a way, England must have practiced this in training a million times, goal kick, flick on, striker shoots, boom. I don’t think it’s Bergkamp’s best finish, and just one minute after his sterling efforts, Seaman will be royally fucked off that he couldn’t stop this one, creeping in low to his left hand side. On the replay, you can see he’s totally wrong footed, expecting Bergkamp to go for the far corner. Goddamn.

Rijkaard has a chance to put a Miscarriage of Justice cherry on our Absolute Travesty cake, but slides it just wide.

Full time: Netherlands 2-0 England. Fucking hell. I’m seething and it’s ancient history. Graham Taylor is dead and I bet he’s STILL fuming about this.

Rest in peace, mate.

On balance, the Netherlands were a much better footballing side than Taylor’s England, and I doubt the neutrals would have been glad to see us at USA ’94 instead of the Dutch. But fucking hell, this ref. One of the all-time shittest reffing performances, surely. Fucking fuck.

Today’s feeling: Out in the groups, thanks to some terrible refereeing.

Sample this disaster of a refereeing performance here:

With the adrenaline rush of a glorified friendly draw against Germany now finally wearing off, those of us who question Harry Maguire’s inclusion in England’s World Cup starting XI must now answer the question: who, then? Let’s look at the potential options.

Tony Adams: Age: 55, Caps: 66, Goals: 5

Lack of pace shouldn’t be a big problem, since he was never the quickest and relied on the famous Arsenal offside trap to get him out of trouble. Last seen stumbling across the ballroom at Elstree Studios. 30YS rating: A

Andy Linighan: Age: 60, England B Caps: 4

Again, mobility was never Linighan’s MO, and really, if any England team is going to pick him, it’s going to be the one playing a low block a la Southgate. Last seen plumbing in Hertfordshire. 30YS rating: B-

Chris Sutton: Age 49: Caps: 1

Though more well known as a striker, his original incarnation as a defender was remembered well enough to label him as a “D/S C” on CM9798. Plus, the ability to play in different positions will be an attractive option to Southgate when we’re chasing the game against Wales on November 29. All of this, of course, comes with the added bonus of getting his moaning arse out of the 5 live studio and away from my delicate ears. 30YS rating: A+

Steve Bruce: Age: 61, England B Caps: 1

Cruelly overlooked in his prime by Bobby Robson in favour of other, better defenders, the “uncapped cabbage” as he isn’t known could still force his way into Southgate’s plans. Last seen playing 4-4-2 at the Hawthorns and being the first manager in charge of 1,000 excruciatingly turgid football matches. 30YS rating: C

Andy Thorn: Age: 55, England U21 caps: 5

An experienced defender in teams that defended a lot, which would suit Southgate’s England. Really only included so he can come on as a sub and they can play “Thorn in your eye” by Anthrax as his entrance music. Last seen briefly managing Kidderminster. 30YS rating: C+

Harry Kane: Age: 29, Caps: 75, Goals: 51

Whilst some would consider it a bold and unusual move to put your most prolific striker into central defence, Kane’s game has seen him dropping a lot deeper over the years, so it’s really only the next logical step for him to fully assume defensive responsibilties. We also know he’s good at defending, attacking and taking corners for England, which are really the three key components of any defender’s game. Last seen warming up for his metatarsal injury in the NLD by smashing home a penalty against Germany. 30YS rating: A*

Conclusion: With a central defensive pairing of Chris Sutton and Harry Kane, England will rightly be favourites for the tournament.

Today’s feeling: World Cup Winners. End of.

I saw a great tweet from Tony Evans yesterday, talking about about a hypothetical injury to Harry Kane:

Back to football for a moment. Given Southgate did not offer any playing time to Toney and Abraham, when do we reckon Kane picks up THAT injury? In the north London derby (allowing him to go to Qatar at about 40%) or in early November?

— Tony Evans (@TonyEvans92a) September 27, 2022

I feel like it’s been a while since we had the “injury to a key player in the build up to a major tournament” narrative to contend with. In 2002, it was David Beckham. Ever the trend setter, it felt like he was the player to really bring the broken metatarsal into the mainstream, suffering the injury in April 2002 ahead of the World Cup in Japan & South Korea. Installed as captain by Peter Taylor after the resignation of Kevin Keegan, Beckham hadn’t played any club football at all following the injury, and if I remember rightly, there was a great deal of media discussion surrounding his inclusion in the squad. It kind of worked out for him; he completed his ’98-’02 redemption arc with the winning penalty against Argentina in the groups, though he was nowhere near his best and England succumbed to 10-man Brazil in the quarters.

Wayne Rooney followed suit 4 years later, also breaking his metatarsal in April 2006. Still only 20 at the time and coming off an amazing debut tournament at the Euros in 2004, he had become the beacon of hope for a nation starting to wonder if the “golden generation” was really capable of achieving anything. Like Beckham, he was clearly unfit, and the frustration of the whole situation was probably a huge factor in his red card in the quarter final. If only Sven had had the guts to play Walcott; an unknown and fearless Theo just might have been the key. Instead, Michael Owen’s knee exploded, Rooney huffed and puffed and we ended up just lumping it up to Peter Crouch. Golden Generation. Jesus Christ.

So, cometh the hour, cometh the man. A North London Derby, Granit Xhaka on the other side long overdue a red card. Less than two months to go until the start of the tournament. What was once football’s must-have injury has been waiting in the wings too long. My only hope is that by talking about it with such certainty, I can jinx it in to not happening…

Todays feeling: An unfit Harry Kane lumbers around while Tammy Abraham sits bored on the sidelines as we go out in the group.

The fickle-ometer was dropping and peaking for all its worth during last night’s 3-3 draw with Germany. Aside from a 3-minute spell during the first half and up to the 67th minute when Foden and Sterling were replaced, England were back to their insipid worst, ponderous on the ball, drained of confidence, and showing precious little attacking intent aside from some half-hearted notions about counterattacking. The feeling that we were on the cusp of major tournament humiliation on the scale of Euro ’88 and Euro 2000 was palpable.

But then, the substitutions. Sterling, who improved slightly from a real shocker against Italy, had squandered good chances to score and set up Kane, and Foden, who ran around a lot and took some corners, went off. On came Saka and Mount. Saka, played out of position and looking all at sea against Italy, played as a right sided attacker here and looked like his Arsenal self, offered purposeful dribbling and a constant attacking threat. Mount, played nominally on the left, but like Saka, showed excellent attacking intent, none more so encapsulated than by a superbly taken equaliser. It felt like the tide had shifted, suddenly we had momentum and confidence, players we know that are capable of great things looked like playing to their potential instead of being spooked by their own shadow. An England team forced to take the initiative feels like the England team we all hope for at kick off, but time and again, doesn’t materialize in the big games.

Crucially, game-state has a huge influence on how the subs and the subbed off players shape the game. Perhaps it’s slightly unfair to be critical of Sterling and Foden when they are tactically limited by what the manager allows the rest of the team to do in supporting their attacking endeavours. However, given England were able to eke out a small handful of decent chances – none of which were taken – it suggests that for a gameplan that relies on exploiting the thinnest of margins, the personnel involved are incorrect.

None more so are razor thin margins of error more ruthlessly taken advantage of than by high level international teams against back lines who aren’t quite at it. Maguire, looking unfit, immobile and uncomfortable for 180 minutes against two decent enough sides, cannot be expected to excel given his current state of fitness and confidence. Nick Pope, usually a good shot stopper but with all the footwork skills that comfortably place him in the “bad touch for a big man” bracket, can no longer be reasonably considered England’s #2 goalkeeper. If the distribution and technique alone isn’t enough to convince you, spilling a routine save out for Havertz to gift the Germans the easiest possible equaliser should be.

As evidenced by the Euro 2020 final, Southgate does not trust himself or his team to be brave in the biggest moments. Hemmed into their own half by a pair of centre backs with a combined age of 71, only once with the game at 1-1 were England able to get in behind, at which point Chiellini knew his race was run and cynically hauled down Saka. Having seen the potential path to victory, it never felt like Southgate was interested in pursuing it, only continuing with his “Game Management as a Service” (GaaS) tactic, in which only the low risk, low reward percentages are played.

A cold, hard dedication to a percentage game, coupled with unerring loyalty to players who are not performing, is not conducive to major tournament victories. Even in better times, collective momentum is not enough to hide the weaknesses of those players who are not performing. Never has there been a more important or obvious moment for Southgate to ditch the habit of lifetime and stop playing his favourites. But it seems unthinkable for a man so set in his ways to change now.

Today’s feeling: Glass half full. Out in the group stage but we win 1 game.