World Cup 2014 ebook by Football Cliches

A speculative effort, from distance, to translate the curious language of football

Football ClichĂŠs

Adam Hurrey

WORLD CUP GUIDE

Tardelli 3% Dark horses 16% Traditional slow-starters 2% Groups of Death 17%

Goalkeepers moaning about the new ball 8%

Dutch in-fighting 1%

World Cup wall charts 11% Wilting in the heat 4%

1966 (and all that) 13%

TOTAL: 110%

Surrealist opening ceremonies 7%

Samba style 9%

Panini sticker albums 4% Writing the Germans off (at your peril) 15%

Football Clichés WORLD CUP GUIDE

Football ClichĂŠs

A speculative effort, from distance, to translate the curious language of football

Adam Hurrey

WORLD CUP GUIDE

headline

Copyright © 2014 Adam Hurrey The right of Adam Hurrey to be identified as the Author  of theWork has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. First published in 2014 by Headline Publishing Group Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means,with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Every effort has been made to fulfil requirements with regard to reproducing copyright material.The author and publisher will be glad to rectify any omissions at the earliest opportunity. Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library eISBN 978 1 4722 2056 1

About the book Dark Horses, Dutch in-fighting, the Group of Death, taking on fluids, writing the Germans off (at your peril)... As the small matter of the World Cup approaches, Adam Hurrey turns his attention to the clichés that abound at football's world stage. Featuring: – World Cup TV preview (BBC vs ITV) – England Expects (And Other World Cup Clichés) – The Perfect World Cup – A Speculative Effort: England at USA '94

Typeset in Plantin and Helvetica  Designed by James Edgar at Post98design.co.uk Headline Publishing Group An Hachette UK Company 338 Euston Road London NW1 3BH www.headline.co.uk www.hachette.co.uk

Football Clichés

A speculative effort, from distance, to translate the curious language of football

Adam Hurrey

Come-and-get-me pleas 10%

Parking the bus 6%

Determination 5%

Dramatic U-turns 3%

Grit 5%

Transfer war chests 14%

Aplomb 7%

Potential banana skins 3%

Half a dozen of the other 6%

Bragging rights 19%

Six of one 6%

Booing 3% European hangovers 1%

Imaginary yellow cards 7% Dreaded votes of confidence 10%

Schoolboy defending 4%

Metatarsals 1%

TOTAL: 110%

Click here to find out more about Adam's full-length book, Football Clichés, coming soon.

About the Author Adam Hurrey is a London-based football writer. He created the Football ClichĂŠs blog in 2007 while working as a TV listings editor and has since contributed articles about the unique language of football to the websites of the Guardian and the Mirror, among others. He also had trials for Swindon Town as a youngster, but genuinely was rejected for being 'too small'.

Football Clichés

Section Heading Here

1. The Perfect World Cup

11 – 21

Football Clichés

The Perfect World Cup

1. The Perfect World Cup Featuring the mascots from Italia 90, the stadiums of Germany 06, the Group of Death from Spain 82 and the USA 94 kits.

Format: 1998-present The current 32-team, eight-group format arguably works better than anything before it, especially for those who enjoy the glorious televisual clutter of the group stages. The final-less tournament of 1950, despite its undeniably dramatic decider at the Maracana, would never be countenanced today. Inevitably, though, some self-serving tinkering is afoot. Uefa president Michel Platini, looking ahead to the next FIFA presidential election in 2015, has proposed a 40-strong competition in 2018. An extra 32 group games, and the vast amount of dead rubber they would create, would test the resolve of even the most ardent group-stage marathon enthusiast.

Ciao, 1990

Mascot: Ciao, 1990

Stadiums: Germany, 2006

The unveiling of an official mascot is traditionally one of the earliest glimpses of a forthcoming World Cup. Leading up to Italia 90, some creative soul provided – in the threedimensional form of Ciao – a welcome deviation from chubby children in giant hats or anthropomorphic animals, fruit and vegetables. Sadly, the 2014 tournament organisers have reverted to the ever-marketable formula and given the world a cheerful armadillo called Fuleco.

Established in the 21st century as the low-cost template for how to cater for football fans, the German model (as we must apparently refer to it) lent itself perfectly to staging football's flagship event in 2006. No FIFA tournament will ever boast budget ticket prices, of course, but Germany's twelve impeccable venues oozed class, without a missed deadline or white elephant in sight. The strength of the array of venues was in such depth that the iconic Olympiastadion in Munich, host of the 1974 final, saw no match action.

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Honourable mentions are certainly due elsewhere. Mexico City's Estadio Azteca witnessed several veritable World Cup classics in 1970 and, despite apparently being plagued by a giant spider hovering over the centre circle, provided a dramatic centrepiece second time around in 1986.

Group of Death: Group C, 1982 A prerequisite for any World Cup. The original phrase, grupo de la muerte, was first coined by Mexican journalists in 1970 as favourites Brazil and holders England were drawn against Romania and Czechoslovakia in the first round. The deathliest group of all, though? In 1982, the second round pitted together holders Argentina, free-scoring favourites Brazil and eventual winners Italy, with only the winners progressing. A three-team group of death may not satisfy the criteria of the purists, but this was an unprecedented clash of the titans. In the end, a Paolo Rossi-inspired Italy edged out the Brazilians, while Argentina crumbled. Brazil 2014's best hope of a grupo de la muerte looks to be Group G, which pits together Germany, 2010 quarter-finalists Ghana, Cristiano Ronaldo's Portugal and the USA. The Group of Mild Peril, perhaps.

The Perfect World Cup

From the well-catered modern know-it-alls, we must look back to a more innocent age of World Cup broadcasting. Nearly twenty-four years on, the in-game Italia 90 graphics remain a classic of their rather niche genre. Those little dots of doom running down the side of the screen are as vivid a memory as Paul Gascoigne's tear-jerking yellow card, Gary Lineker's rifled equaliser or Chris Waddle approaching the penalty spot with the look of a condemned man. The World Cups of 1986 and 1990 witnessed the BBC's commentary titans at the peak of their contrasting powers. Four years before a still-containable John Motson had conveyed perfectly the drama of Turin (without resorting to the crockery-themed nonsense of 2002), Barry Davies was at his schoolmasterly best in Mexico as England stuttered through the group stage: ‘Agh – mistake by Fenwick! And again it's a threeagainst-two break... Ohhh, what an important foot in by Terry Butcher! But England just cannot afford to make crass errors like that! We've got away with it twice; we cannot tempt fate further.’ Alongside Davies in the gantry was Jimmy Hill who, unlike the calming presence of Brooking in 1990, greeted England finally opening their account for the tournament against Poland in wonderful fashion:

TV coverage: BBC, 1986 and 1990 Coverage of major tournaments has never been slicker and more comprehensive but, in the YouTube age, there is no longer the same exotic sense of detachment and fear of the unknown – 2014's World Cup stars are already wellestablished. As the next Roger Milla prepares an impromptu arrival on the global stage, he may find the shop window rather cluttered when he gets there.

Davies: ‘. . . four in the area . . . LINEKER!’ Hill: ‘Haaaaaaooooooooooooooooooo! Ha-ha-hahooooooooooooooo!’ At no point since Brooking and Hill left the gantry have we had a co-commentator that we felt was with us for every kick, every foul and every agonising miss. In Brazil this summer, we will likely hear the overearnest observations of

Football Clichés

Andy Townsend, the verbal whirlwind of Clarke Carlisle and – if we're very unlucky – Mark Lawrenson, the commentary equivalent of the groan-inspiring joke in a Christmas cracker.

Kits: USA 94 The goal-shy Italia 90 signalled the end for many of football's increasingly stale elements. Within two years, the backpass law had been introduced, increasing the speed and intensity of the game almost instantly. Meanwhile, the next World Cup was to break new ground. The United States had won the right to host it, despite not having a domestic league to call its own, and made up in sheer flamboyance what it lacked in genuine soccer pedigree. If the sight of Diana Ross bottling it from the penalty spot on the opening day wasn't arresting enough, USA 94 was notable for a kaleidoscopic explosion of 100 per cent polyester. With some stunning exceptions (Denmark's Hummeldesigned efforts in 1986 continue to induce hipster swooning), football shirts had been mired in minimalism for decades. But now there was Sweden, Bulgaria, Norway and Romania. And Jorge Campos. The leading kit manufacturers, led by the bold stripes of Adidas, had chosen the perfect moment to throw caution to the wind. Austerity may be about to make a comeback, however. A vaguely-worded passage in FIFA's 2014 tournament regulations refers to kits being ‘predominately’ dark or light in colour. Spain have opted for an all-red strip, while Germany and Argentina will wear tradition-defying white shorts. An important part of World Cup iconography is under threat, but no-one is quite sure why.

The Perfect World Cup

Match ball: Adidas Tango, 1982 Surprisingly (or not, given that they're a rather fundamental piece of equipment) match balls have an eventful World Cup history. The very first final in 1930 was preceded by a charmingly playground-style spat between Uruguay and Argentina who both insisted on using their own ball; a FIFA compromise finally saw them accept a half each. Brown or orange leather balls were de rigueur at tournaments until 1970, when the truncated icosahedron made its debut. The Adidas Telstar's revolutionary black-and-

Mr. Crack, 1962

1966

Telstar, 1970

Tango, 1978

Tricolore, 1998

Fevernova, 2002

Teamgeist, 2006

Jabulani, 2010

Brazuca, 2014

World Cup Balls

Football Clichés

white design (which improved the ball's visibility for TV viewers) remains, several decades later, the universally understood symbol for ‘football’. Even now, given a pen and paper, nobody is going to draw a picture of a Jabulani, are they? Then, in 1978, came a design classic: the Adidas Tango. What it lacked in visual impact in comparison to its predecessor, it made up for in understated style. The design remained more or less intact through to the 1998 World Cup, when the Tricolore signalled the beginning of the end – multicoloured match balls. The Fevernova, 2002's official abomination, was blamed for a catalogue of poor free-kicks, before World Cup balls reached their widely-accepted nadir in 2010 with the seemingly anti-gravity Jabulani. It remains to be seen what the goalkeepers' union thinks of the freshlyunveiled Brazuca. The technique of thermal bonding, where stitching was once used, has produced near-frictionless beach balls that veer through the air and consternate the world's leading goalkeepers in the run-up to every tournament. Bring back the Tango. Or perhaps the delightfully-named 1962 ball, ‘Mr. Crack’.

Goalscoring: Spain, 1982 Until the expansion of the competition to 32 teams in 1998, the 1982 World Cup was the highest-scoring in history, but quantity did not come at the cost of quality. Free-kicks flew in from every direction and Brazilians Eder, Socrates and Zico held their own personal goal of the tournament competition – mainly at the expense of a forlorn-looking Alan Rough in the Scotland goal. More recently, the 2006 tournament featured an increasingly absurd selection of long-range efforts.

The Perfect World Cup

In 1994, cavernous, billowing, luxurious goal nets characterised a World Cup of excess: record attendances, soaring temperatures and goals, goals, goals. There were 141 rifled, curled and slotted into these voluptuous onion bags, plus a visibly emotional Rashidi Yekini.

Indiscipline: Germany, 2006 Despite repeated FIFA directives aimed at quelling them, acts of violence and disorder are an indelible feature of the rich World Cup tapestry. Cameroon's attempts to cut Claudio Caniggia down to size in the opening match of Italia 90 are remembered as fondly as Francois Omam-Biyik's gravity-defying headed winner. Italian enforcer Claudio Gentile's 90-minute bullying of Diego Maradona in 1982 included a mere 23 fouls (despite, record books say, him being cautioned in the first minute). It was undeniably effective, though; Italy claimed a vital 2-1 win, and Gentile presumably pocketed Maradona's dinner money. After three consecutive tournaments of being kicked from pillar to post and back again, an ephedrinefuelled Maradona would himself see his World Cup odyssey end in crazy-eyed ignominy in 1994. Statistically, the 2006 finals stand out as the dirtiest of all. Their crown jewel of indiscretion was Portugal's second-round clash with the Netherlands, melodramatically dubbed ‘The Battle of Nuremberg’, which included four red and sixteen yellow cards and eclipsed both the Battles of Berne (1954) and Santiago (1962) in the process. World Cup officials haven't always made life easy for themselves. Ecuadorian referee Byron Moreno's eccentric decisions in favour of co-hosts South Korea raised a few eyebrows (and broke a few Italian hearts) in 2002.

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Moreno would go on to be banned for twenty games in his home country for some suspicious timekeeping, and then jailed for twenty-six months for attempting to smuggle heroin into the US via his underpants. All of which makes Graham Poll's infamous administrative error in 2006, when he managed to book Josip Simunic three times, look rather tame.

Official World Cup Film: Hero, 1986 Something immediately apparent when looking back at Mexico 86 is the unrelenting sunshine. It created a tournament-long shimmer that more than compensated for the absence of potentially more dramatic floodlit matches, and FIFA's official film Hero unashamedly basks in the rays. Michael Caine's unhurried narration, backed by some genuinely wonderful Rick Wakeman synths, betrays a detached awe of foreign football that would seem quaint now: Michael Laudrup, ‘from the glamorous Juventus club in the Italian league’, slaloms about in slow-motion, and the irrepressible Hugo Sanchez drags the hosts to the quarter-finals. The main protagonist of this World Cup is undeniable; Maradona is the anti-hero and the narrative is compelling. You suspect they could easily have made this entire film from footage of him either being fouled or appealing in vain to unmoved referees. The muscular cannonball twists, turns and tricks his way past Uruguay, England and Belgium in the knockout stages before West Germany loom in the final at the Azteca. Argentina contrive to throw away a two-goal lead but, with one final piece of magic, Maradona releases Jorge Burruchaga to slide home the winner and complete El Diego's script – the greatest solo effort the world's biggest team sport has ever seen.

The Perfect World Cup

Winners: Netherlands This hypothetical perfect World Cup offers a chance for history's greatest also-rans to shine. The Brazil side of 1982 could only curl, dink and swerve their way to the second round but, twelve years later, Romario would finally toe-poke the Selecao to their fourth title. Still waiting for their first triumph, and unfortunate enough to fall at the final hurdle to two consecutive host nations in 1974 and 1978, are the Netherlands. The first of those finals has taken on more and more of a hard-luck hue as the years have rolled by. The Dutch arrived in Munich after putting six goals past Brazil and Argentina without reply in the second round. In the final against West Germany, a training-ground passing session led to Johan Cruyff being felled by Berti Vogts in the opening minute and, well, you know the rest. For once, this perfect World Cup will risk the commensurate peril of writing the Germans off. The Italians and Brazilian trophy cabinets are already well-stocked, and Spain's possession-hoarding metronomes have already seen the early rumblings of a backlash. Cruyff gets his hands on a World Cup trophy (not the punier Jules Rimet version, although it's a close call) and his legacy, like Maradona's, Johan ‘The Master’ lifts the World trophy has its crowning glory. Cue Pavarotti...

Football Clichés

Section Heading Here

2. England Expects (And Other World Cup Clichés)

23 – 29

Football Clichés

England Expects

2. England Expects (And Other World Cup Clichés) It's amazing how the England team can generate so much drama and despair out of such consistent mediocrity, but this is one of many effects of the quadrennial pandemic of World Cup fever. Symptoms of this condition include (but are not limited to) an unsustainable enthusiasm for wall charts, a heightened tolerance to opening ceremonies and Andy Townsend, plus sudden outbreaks of optimism. In some extreme cases, the victim's face may become painted white and red.

English football’s enforced soul-searching of the last few years has resulted in a more measured outlook for major tournaments. The heroic World Cup and European Championship exits of 1986 to 1998 were succeeded by the rather more meek failures after the turn of the millennium, most of which were characterised by a lack of technique and composure against savvier opponents. England doesn’t quite Expect these days, perhaps, but there are some deeper World Cup clichés that have proven to be much harder to dislodge.

ENGLAND EXPECTS: THE WORLD CUP JOURNEY Build-up Group Stage Second Round METATARSAL SCARE

HOTEL FACILITIES ROW

DOUR FIRST GAME

CLAMOUR FOR RAHEEM STERLING TO BE UNLEASHED

Quarter-finals

CAN WE DO IT?!

THE WAGS ARE COMING (OR NOT)

ENGLAND SCRAPE THROUGH

ENGLAND CRUISE INTO QUARTER FINALS

Aftermath LAMPARD AND GERRARD RETIRE FROM INTERNATIONAL FOOTBALL

IT’S NOT SO MUCH THE HEAT, IT’S THE HUMIDITY

HODGSON CONTRACT TERMINATED BY MUTUAL CONSENT

ENGLAND LOSE ON PENALTIES

REFEREE RECEIVES DEATH THREATS

FOREIGN COACH APPOINTED

ROOT AND BRANCH REVIEW

Football Clichés

The Metatarsal Scare The beginning of an England World Cup campaign is traditionally heralded by a metatarsal scare. For Brazil 2014, Roy Hodgson found himself sweating over the fitness of Jack Wilshere, a player who seems to be forever picking himself up gingerly after a strong challenge. Wilshere's hopes hang in the balance thanks to a fractured navicular (technically a tarsal bone, if we're being precise), but this uniquely English tradition remains more or less intact. On The Plane The months leading up to the tournament are the time for England hopefuls to stake their claims, with a sliding scale of air-travel metaphors – 'on the plane', 'in the departure lounge', 'struggling to close that clear plastic bag for their liquids', etc. – which are deployed to assess their progress. World Cup squad call-ups and rejections are a messy affair to deal with before getting down to the real business of tournament preparation. From Paul Gascoigne's hotelroom meltdown in 1998 to Theo Walcott hearing his 2010 fate while playing a round of golf, the shattering of World Cup dreams are part and parcel of the story. Surprise call-ups, meanwhile, are traditionally suspicious of good news, lest they be 'wind-ups' from their mates (which sounds like overly cruel behaviour, however hypothetical it may be). The Selection Headaches In 2014, Roy Hodgson's squad remained difficult to predict with any certainty. Old-fashioned centre-forward Andy Carroll, apart from being the footballing version of a replica vintage kit-car that your grandad once built, represents a uniquely British squad-selection obsession – the something different.

England Expects

This is a rather cryptic way of saying that Carroll (like Peter Crouch before him) would be thrown on in the last twenty minutes of England's must-win final group game, because whichever bunch of wimpy foreigners we're up against won't be able to handle the aerial bombardment. Even old England squad dilemmas continue to cause Hodgson the odd sleepless night. There are cave paintings from the Late Pleistocene age that depict the catastrophe that unfolds when Frank Lampard and Steven Gerrard fail to agree on 'who goes and who stays'. Meanwhile, the only things in football that are perennial are 'underachievers' and 'England's left-sided problem' and those are often not mutually exclusive. Many of Hodgson's predecessors have tried to remedy this lopsidedness with willing-but-limited right wingers (Trevor Sinclair), willing-but-out-of-position strikers (Darius Vassell, Emile Heskey), and willing-butinadequate left-wingers (Steve Froggatt, Steve Guppy). Latterly, Adam Johnson briefly emerged as the T-1000 sent back in time to solve the perennial left-sided problem that Stewart Downing's T-800 couldn't. Unfortunately for him, football tactics became self-aware and the obsession with inverted wingers solved the problem overnight. In these otherwise drought-stricken times for the English talent pool, and despite injuries to Theo Walcott and Andros Townsend, one area in which Roy Hodgson is arguably spoilt for choice is the Jet-Heeled Wide Man department. Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain and Raheem Sterling are likely to be in Brazil to offer electricity of pace and brightness of thought. Much like Carroll may be called upon to strike gravity-defying fear into the hearts of England's opponents, tiring legs will be the cue for an injection of pace from one or more of these ultra-direct wildcards. Elsewhere, Hodgson's cupboard is a little more bare. Goalkeepers, centre-halves, strikers – you name them – England aren't producing them in the same numbers any

Football Clichés

more. James Milner, the ultimate shift-worker, is ready to clock in whenever called upon but is destined to end his World Cup watching England lose on penalties in the quarter-finals, standing in an orange bib, arm-in-arm with the third-choice goalkeeper. Speaking of whom, being a back-up keeper is an existential dilemma in itself, but travelling to a major tournament as England's spare, spare custodian magnifies this plight even further. Barring a couple of unfortunate injuries or suspensions, the 23rd man's most significant contribution seems to be offering a bit of advice before a penalty shootout and stumping pub quiz machine users years later. The WAGS Are Coming (Or Not) England World Cup preparations are more sober affairs these days. Drinking scandals like the pre-Euro 96 dentist's chair are a thing of the past and today's pale equivalent would be a brief Twitter storm. England's hotel choices are notoriously perilous, though. They're either too remote and unstimulating (Rustenburg, 2010) or too exposed and distracting (Rio, 2014). The low-rent soap opera of the WAGs (who announced themselves as a World Cup cliché in Baden Baden in 2006) has perhaps already reached its peak this time around – their cordial invitation to join the squad throughout the tournament has since been withdrawn by the FA, who continue to make Frank Spencer look like the personification of decisiveness. The Clamouring One below-par group-stage performance is the trigger for armchair England managers to begin 'clamouring' for the inclusion of a player in the starting lineup. France 98 saw some nationwide clamouring for the raw talent of Michael Owen to be unleashed. Glenn Hoddle duly obliged and,

England Expects

against Argentina in the 2nd round, the rest was jet-heeled history. The pinnacle of any English group-stage mini drama is the quasi-heroic third game in which England scrape through to the knockouts. Football is undoubtedly a results business, but nowhere else in the sport does expectation detach itself further from the actual performances on the pitch than with the England team at a major tournament. The Wilting Another curiously English phenomenon involves eleven burnt-out Premier League stars 'wilting' in the 35-degree heat of whichever nation happens to be hosting the World Cup that summer. Footballers never drink anything during games to remedy this, by the way – they 'take on fluids'. Also taking on fluids are the punters in the rammed-to-the-rafters pubs back home, some of whom may be lucky enough to have the news cameras turn up and film their ecstasy/despair. Meanwhile, the prime minister will begin to feign his mandatory interest around about the start of the knockout stage. The Root-and-Branch Review Post-tournament soul-searching is traditionally formalised in the root-and-branch review conducted by an FA that simply cannot fathom why England aren't the greatest football team in the world. The yo-yo effect of these brainstorms will continue to swing between honest Englishmen and sophisticated foreign coaches, until all that remain are Alan Curbishley and Dr Jozef Venglos. England’s expectations are altogether more humble in 2014, but there are some World Cup habits that just simply can’t be kicked. It’ll be a rollercoaster again, no doubt, but one you suddenly realise you’ve been on half-a-dozen times before.

Football Clichés

Section Heading Here

3. World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV

31 – 41

Football Clichés

3. World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV Unless you possess more money than sense, are a serial competition entrant, or Mark Lawrenson, the chances are that you're not going to the World Cup in Brazil this summer. No matter, though, because while the greatest sporting event in the world remains enshrined in the automatic rights of free-to-air UK television, the BBC and ITV will cover as much of it as they humanly can. Imagine not liking football. Imagine how much of a void that must create when the fixture list is published, on Championship playoff final day, or when the Sky Sports News countdown clock approaches the transfer deadline. Or, indeed, every other summer when there's a major tournament to enjoy. The World Cup embraces armchair fandom just as much as it does the face-painted/drum-beating/ city-centre-marauding ticket-holders. Why else would the BBC be sending 272 staff to Brazil in a bid to make this the first ‘24/7 World Cup’? In spite of the time zones – not that the World Cup of 2002 in Japan and South Korea was any less enjoyable over the breakfast table – the widespread desire to take in every group game (yes, even Algeria v South Korea) means that there is no hiding place for the broadcasters in their coverage. And if there's one rapidly growing sub-genre of football, it's the Twitter-enabled, real-time appraisal of pundits and commentators as they go about their work. Their jobs can be thankless ones but, since they're paid to fly to Brazil and watch football and therefore we're all insanely jealous, the two biggest broadcasters deserve some scrutiny.

World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV

Presenters Gary Lineker (BBC) vs Adrian Chiles (ITV)

Boyish grin still intact, it's now fifteen years since Gary Lineker assumed the front-man duties for the BBC's football coverage from the purring ‘housewives’ favourite’ Des Lynam. Since then, Lineker has made the giant step from sheepish ex-player pundit to studio presenter look rather effortless. As comfortable with his knowingly excruciating puns as he is with moments of genuine gravitas – he switches on his Serious Face via a small button behind an ear – Lineker has almost managed to replicate Lynam's smooth operation, and is light years ahead in terms of his football literacy. One major advantage he has over the competition, particularly in even-numbered years, is that he is inextricably linked with heroic English footballing failures of yore. He was there in 1986 and 1990, and doesn't need to go on about it because it's etched on the brain of anyone over thirty. Lineker may not ask the tough questions – football is rarely forthcoming with tough answers anyway – but his sense of the big occasion, seasoned with a pinch of customary selfdeprecation, puts him at the top of his field. Over on ITV this summer will be their established figurehead Adrian Chiles. His rise from Working Lunch to World Cup is an impressive one and, although he lacks Lineker's perma-tanned relative glamour, he plays to his own strengths as a broadcaster. Engaging the studio guests is Chiles's bread and butter. He's chatty when the pressure's off, and then half-exasperated-half-awe-struck when the stakes are raised. He's well-versed not just in English football's failures but also in its depressing mediocrity and, in an era

Football Clichés

where England Expects is an anachronism, Chiles is not given to tub-thumping just because it might stop a few potential advert-watchers from switching over. His broadcasting experience has arguably made him a smoother banterer than Lineker but, try as he might to steal our hearts, he didn't score the equaliser in a World Cup semi-final against the Germans. However, like much of ITV's coverage, he's a great deal better than he's given credit for. Pundits Alan Hansen, Alan Shearer, Rio Ferdinand, Phil Neville, Thierry Henry (BBC) vs Lee Dixon, Roy Keane, Glenn Hoddle, Gordon Strachan, Patrick Vieira, Ian Wright (ITV)

As always, the two terrestrial channels are expected to boast star-studded lineups in their World Cup studios, with a perfect blend of curmudgeonliness, earnestness, personality and freshness. Alan Hansen – a 22-year stalwart of the BBC's output – will hang up his punditry boots after the tournament, taking with him such slurred, growled adjectives as ‘diabolical’ and ‘abysmal’. Without Hansen's tutelage, we'd never have known that certain things on a football field are liable to happen ‘time and time again’ or what that one thing is that defenders hate above all else. The other Alan is fittingly the most likely candidate to step up to the plate when Hansen leaves our screens, assuming he has abandoned any ambitions of club management. Shearer is surprisingly versatile, switching from terse and dour to jovial depending on how interesting he finds the subject matter (he's the general secretary of the lesser-

World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV

known Strikers' Union) and has developed a recent penchant for statistics. However, some practise is needed to shoehorn them into his analysis without it sounding like the work experience kid looked it up on Wikipedia for him fifteen minutes earlier. The BBC's headline acquisition for the tournament is semi-retired former England captain Rio Ferdinand. He has promised viewers ‘a different sort of insight and analysis’, while Lineker has welcomed his ‘reputation for telling it how it is’. Sadly, a reputation for telling it how it is seems to be exactly what the consensus says punditry really doesn't need. Unlike fuddy-duddies Shearer and Hansen, though, Ferdinand will also have a social media role during the tournament. It's 2014, everyone. The other confirmed pundits are Phil Neville (a bit like getting the less famous Dimbleby brother) and Thierry Henry, this summer's international choice for the BBC. Whisper it quietly, but ITV have amassed some serious strength-in-depth in their punditry department in recent years. Lee Dixon and Roy Keane are the ever-presents. Dixon is smart, considered, balanced . . . and somehow not boring. Keane, meanwhile, has been waging a long-running battle with his own caricature, but it remains a heartwarming moment whenever Chiles manages to raise a smile from him. The Irishman doesn't suffer fools (indeed, he verbally reduces fools to rubble) but this approach too often flirts with selfparody. Nevertheless, his indispensable knowledge of World Cup training camp standards may come in handy in the early stages of the tournament. In Gordon Strachan and Glenn Hoddle, ITV have two elder statesmen on hand to offer their valuable insight into World Cup football. Strachan is rather more than the Hollowayesque soundbite generator that he's often pigeonholed as, while Hoddle may find his punditry role less testing than his current war of attrition with Gerry Francis over

Football Clichés

who can maintain the same hairstyle the longest. In any case, a former England World Cup manager should always be a worthwhile addition to a tournament punditry panel. Finally, ITV have in Ian Wright a pundit who comes into his own during the inevitable mid-game England crisis moments. Although his departure from the BBC was acrimonious – Wright claimed they cast him as the ‘comedy jester’ in their ‘jacket, shirt and tie’ format – his sheer emotional investment rendered moot most of the debate over the lack of supposed insight in TV punditry. Wright, as a player and a pundit, simply gets what it means to represent his country. There is very little sense or consistency to customer feedback on modern football punditry (what is it that we want, exactly?) but, whatever the right formula, it is the much-maligned ITV who seem closer to perfecting it. Commentators Guy Mowbray, Steve Wilson, Jonathan Pearce, Simon Brotherton, Steve Bower (BBC) vs Clive Tyldesley, Sam Matterface (ITV)

To borrow a euphemism from football itself, the BBC's football commentary is still in somewhat of a transitional phase. John Motson, an indisputable living legend despite being the perennial butt of the joke, retired from covering live games six years ago and deserves to be remembered for his halcyon days of the 1980s and 90s. Just why the Beeb deemed Barry Davies surplus to their mid-2000s requirements continues to be a mystery. From his schoolmasterly admonishment of England's sloppiness against Poland at Mexico 86 (‘England just cannot afford to make

World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV

Where Andy Townsend Wants You

AROUND

crass errors like that!’) to his schoolmasterly admonishment of Italy as they crashed out in 2002 (‘...because they will not learn...’), Davies was consistently brilliant. His peak perhaps came during Euro 96, when he was granted the pulsating semi-final between England and Germany (‘This is unbelievable stuff!’) and, hell, he'd still do a job now. Get him on the plane. As it is, the BBC's squadron of commentators, who invariably cut their teeth on the peerless Radio 5 Live, are more than capable – if a little difficult to tell apart. Guy Mowbray has deservedly emerged as the leader of the pack, but Steve Wilson, Simon Brotherton, Steve Bower – are they actually all the same man? Jonathan Pearce, at least, offers something a little different, even if he has had to tone down his act since his alliteration-drenched Capital Gold radio days. Over on the other side, ITV don't quite have the same selection headache in the commentary gantry. Peter Drury seems to have taken elsewhere his propensity for giving us a player's full name before he shoots, presenting an opportunity

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for young whippersnapper Sam Matterface to finally make a name for himself on the biggest stage of all. With the big money luring established commentary talent to the USA and the Middle East, ITV suddenly find themselves down to the bare bones. And then there's Clive Tyldesley. Annoyingly, it's very difficult to study him without resorting to cliché: yes, he has a certain affinity to Manchester United and a vivid memory of the 1999 Champions League final. Both are understandable and, with a little perspective, even tolerable. But Tyldesley's commentary traits are more subtle than that. Wry understatement is Clive's bag: ‘A small matter of a certain young man by the name of David Beckham – whatever happened to him?!’, etc. A veteran of a frankly ludicrous twenty-nine major finals, he deserves respect for his sustained spell as ITV's number 1 man but, unfortunately, his familiarity has fathered a fair bit of contempt. Clive undoubtedly means well – his pretend conversations between members of the crowd caught on camera (as well as his surreal depictions of the nation's children negotiating revised bed-times when a cup game goes beyond 90 minutes) are, at worst, the harmless efforts of an embarrassing dad rather than a rampant egotist. Co-Commentators Mark Lawrenson, Phil Neville (BBC) vs Andy Townsend, Clarke Carlisle (ITV)

Good evening, everybody. Co-commentary is in crisis. Andy Gray cackled his way off British television, Trevor Brooking went and got a proper job with the FA, and David Pleat is no longer a regular fixture. Those remaining face a barrage of criticism from all angles

World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV

whenever they pick up a mic. What are they actually there for anyway? There's already someone there, often with thousands of games under their belt, to tell you what's happening right now – why the need for someone else, with considerably less formal broadcasting training, to tell you what’s just happened? If necessity is the mother of invention, what keeps giving birth to this irrelevance? Anyway, they're here, telling us if an injured player is still moving ‘gingerly’, which manager will be the happier at half-time and that, in many ways, that away goal hasn't changed your team's job very much. Let's start with ITV's Andy Townsend, a perfect example of a co-commentator whose apparent importance to his employers seems to directly correlate with Twitter opprobrium. Freed from the confines of his ill-conceived Tactics Truck when ITV relinquished top-flight highlights back to the BBC in 2004, Townsend has cemented his place as terrestrial television's most prominent co-commentator. Townsend is very much the anti-Pleat, communicating not in meandering monologues but in staccato bursts of gritty sentiment. ‘G'won,’ he mutters, an indication that a shooting chance is very much available. ‘That's better,’ he offers, sometimes up to half a dozen times in ninety minutes, to midfielders slowly managing to locate the scruff of the game's neck. None of this is particularly insightful from a man who captained a team at a World Cup, of course, but it adds something to the commentator's observations rather than just repeating them with slightly different words. There's genuine conviction there, even if it's misdirected. Whenever Townsend is in front of the camera, he's continually nodding or poking an earnest thumb at the pitch behind him – he longs to be back out there, but must settle for the next best thing. He lives vicariously through the younger men playing in front of him, urging them to ‘get in and around’ their opponents.

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Perhaps he is a victim of English football's forced Enlightenment, ushered in after various schoolings in major tournaments from sides capable of keeping metronomic possession, and a time where grit and determination alone just won't cut it. One again, though – what exactly do we want from our co-commentators? The answer to that question is unlikely to be ‘Clarke Carlisle’. After claiming the dubious honour of being Britain's Brainiest Footballer (defeating the intellectual might of Talksport's Alan Brazil in the final in 2002), Carlisle has found it to be heavy burden. His style of co-commentary is awkward, to say the least, like a malfunctioning robot programmed with Roget's Thesaurus, and his delivery reminds me of a UN interpreter desperately trying to keep up with a keynote speech. In Summary When the draw was finally made in December, the respective executives from the BBC and ITV locked horns to thrash out the crucial TV scheduling. Both channels, of course, will broadcast the final and ITV may just close the gap on the climax of 2010, where four out of every five viewers opted for Lineker, Lawrenson and Mowbray. ITV have negotiated the better deal in the group stages, perhaps. Chiles and co will present coverage of the opening game between Brazil and Croatia (Chiles is half-Croatian, handily) and the latter two of England's group games. The BBC have, however, secured England v Italy – the headline fixture on June 14th, a day that features four live games in a row. TWELVE HOURS of continuous live coverage. Imagine not liking football.

World Cup TV preview: BBC vs ITV

BBC and ITV – The World Cup Dream Team? Combining the best of what both channels can muster for the World Cup, here’s what a BBC-ITV coalition lineup might look like: Presenter: Gary Lineker Studio pundits: Alan Hansen, Lee Dixon, Roy Keane and Ian Wright Commentary box: Guy Mowbray and Andy Townsend Roving reporter: Gabriel Clarke Proceedings are in the safe, assured hands of Lineker, who’s proven to be able to step up in the big games and not simply fill time after a dour England friendly. The auto-piloted Hansen will just sit and do his job, allowing the younger trio of Dixon, Keane and Wright to offer more forthright opinions on England’s inevitably benevolent approach to gifting their opponents possession. Townsend’s urgency sees him claim a place in the gantry alongside the BBC’s well-drilled Mowbray rather than the over-rehearsed Tyldesley, and there’s a place for ITV’s suave Gabriel Clarke to provide his daily updates on the morale in the England camp. Our nation’s TV coverage has faced a barrage of criticism and arguably lacks the strength-in-depth of past generations. Their vast salaries are questioned, they’re lampooned incessantly in the Twittersphere but, ultimately, they’re all we’ve got. Perhaps they’re the perfect bunch to cover England at the World Cup after all.

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Section Heading Here

4. A Speculative Effort: England at USA 94

43 – 71

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4. A Speculative Effort: England at USA 94 Football's built-in annual rollercoaster provides ample opportunity to indulge in some tantalising what-iffing: – What if Peter Reid had broken into something approaching a sprint in 1986, bundled Diego Maradona over and taken a yellow card with a semi-apologetic raised hand? – What if Chris Waddle's extra-time daisy-cutter had pinged into the net via Bodo Illgner's left-hand post, with a satisfying metallic thud, against West Germany in 1990? – What if Sol Campbell's unbridled 1998 reversioning of the Tardelli celebration hadn't been cut short by a combination of Alan Shearer's elbow and Kim Milton Nielsen's whistle? – What if England had qualified for USA 94? Based on the empirical evidence of their lamentable qualifying campaign, England really had no business being part of the World Cup jamboree across the Atlantic twenty years ago. Convincing Wembley wins over the distinctly average Turkey and Poland were the occasional bright punctuations among the aimless struggles, home and away, against Norway and the Netherlands (hereon referred to as 'Holland', as we were all permitted to call them back then). Even San Marino managed to keep the floodgates merely ajar at Wembley for a good hour or so, before Davide Gualtieri's ninth-second display of opportunism provided one of the abiding memories of Taylor's dismal reign in the reverse fixture in Bologna.

A Speculative Effort

The league table, as they say, doesn't lie. However, with the English domestic top flight rebranded and revitalised in 1992, and the backpass rule ushering in a more dynamic, less negative brand of World Cup football, it's worth speculating just what England would have brought to the USA 94 party. By tweaking football history ever so slightly, and ushering England through at the expense of the ultimately disappointing Norway, how might Taylor's 1993/94 crop have fared?

Qualification Oslo, 30 May, 1993. England arrive, fresh from a hard-earned point away to Poland thanks to substitute Ian Wright's smuggled late equaliser – his first goal at international level. A win in the second of England's ‘cup finals’, as manager Graham Taylor described the double-header of away games, was now imperative. England had survived an onslaught in the cauldron of Chorzow, hardly an ideal atmosphere for David Bardsley and Teddy Sheringham to make their first starts in an England shirt. Amid the intermittent chaos, Paul Ince picked up another booking to rule himself out of the Norway test – a reshuffle was certainly needed. But Taylor went one step further in an attempt to befuddle his opposite number Egil Olsen, a methodical Charles Reep disciple whose rugged, counter-punching side were unrecognisable from that which had failed so miserably in the qualifying for Italia 90. A risky switch to a 3-5-2 formation paid off, with the towering threat of Sheffield United-bound Jostein Flo stifled by an immense performance from Gary Pallister. Taylor's bold tactics had forced Olsen's side back for long periods of the game and, twelve minutes from time, a Lee Sharpe cross was

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headed home by Les Ferdinand. England leapt to the top of the group ahead of Norway and Holland (albeit having played a game more) before their two nearest rivals played out a stalemate in Rotterdam a week later. Taylor's ‘headless chickens’ of Chorzow were now suddenly preparing a quick count of their unhatched eggs. Naturally, a ritual humiliation lurked around the corner for Taylor. England's dreadful showing at the US Cup (a warm-up for the World Cup) was summed up by a 2-0 defeat to the hosts, although only some fingertip heroism from American goalkeeper Tony Meola denied Ian Wright a hat-trick and Taylor some respite. A more solid draw against Brazil and a straightforward defeat by Germany did little to suggest that England would put up much of a fight should they return for the main event the following summer. Taylor was urged to make changes to his creaking squad. In goal, David Seaman would replace Chris Woods, by now second choice at Sheffield Wednesday behind Kevin Pressman. Des Walker, whose missing yard-and-a-half of pace had been cruelly exposed by a teenage Marc Overmars in a 2-2 draw at Wembley, now found himself behind Tony Adams and Gary Pallister. When the qualifiers resumed in September, Poland were comfortably dispatched 3-0 at Wembley. All eyes then turned to the showdown with the Dutch in Rotterdam five weeks later. A 2-0 defeat, in which Ronald Koeman was pivotal at both ends of the pitch, once again brought about the sharpening of the press-pack knives. But while Taylor deflected increasingly pointed questions about his future – ‘it's one you should direct at my employers’ – Norway failed to capitalise, losing 2-1 away to Turkey in their final qualifier. Suddenly, despite a patchy away record, a humbling against the USA, and question marks over the manager, England were a win away from qualifying for their fourth straight World Cup finals. A win against San Marino, no less,

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who had mustered a single goal in their nine qualifiers and conceded 39. On 17 November 1993, the unthinkable became rather more thinkable when Gualtieri pounced on the first thing Stuart Pearce had ever underhit in his career and gleefully slid the ball under Seaman. Comical though it was (and it truly was, even on such a critical evening), it remains the most extreme case of an underdog perhaps scoring too early. England eventually eased to a 7-1 victory (with Wright bagging four), Pearce's blushes were spared, and England had booked their place in the 1994 World Cup.

The eventful qualification campaign was charted in the Channel 4 documentary Graham Taylor: Road to USA 94, which demonstrated the manager's crucial rapport with the bloodthirsty press, his intuitive tactical nous and arm-roundthe-shoulder approach to man-management. Crucially, he had the backing of the fans again – for now.

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Preparations If football was in any doubt about what kind of World Cup the USA were to deliver, the draw ceremony answered those questions emphatically. Caesars Palace in Las Vegas was the setting - with James Brown, Barry Manilow and a Sepp Blatter-lampooning Robin Williams providing the entertainment - and England found themselves pitted against Italy, Mexico and (for the third time in four major tournaments) the familar faces from the Republic of Ireland. Throughout the highs and lows of his World Cup odyssey, Taylor was rarely blessed with huge slices of luck. Nine weeks before England were due to kick off their tournament against Mexico, Paul Gascoigne's right tibia and fibula took the brunt of an overzealous training-ground challenge on Lazio youngster Alessandro Nesta. Gazza's career looked in serious doubt, let alone his unfinished World Cup business, and England's creative thrust was ripped out in an instant. Taylor's thirty-man provisional squad for the warm-up games away to Norway (again) and at Wembley against Costa Rica, gave auditions to several hopefuls to fill the Gascoigneshaped void. Tottenham's leggy winger Darren Anderton was given a chance to impress, as was Liverpool's even leggier winger Steve McManaman. While England's midfield options looked uncertain, Taylor was experiencing a welcome selection headache with his forward line. The sensational form of youngsters Andy Cole (the Premier League's top scorer that season with 34) and Norwich's Chris Sutton earned them provisional spots, but it was a rejuvenated Peter Beardsley who many felt carried the replacement key to unlocking World Cup defences. At 33, Beardsley's career was arguably peaking at Newcastle United, who had just finished third in their return to the top flight. With a fit-again Alan Shearer, Les Ferdinand and Ian Wright seemingly certain to be on the plane, there

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was a single spot left to claim. Woods' international exile was confirmed with the inclusion of Pressman in the provisional squad, but Taylor's trio of goalkeepers – Seaman, Tim Flowers and Nigel Martyn – seemed unlikely to change. Blackburn's Graeme Le Saux was a surprise inclusion, as Tony Dorigo became another victim of England's US Cup debacle. There were other traditional selection dilemmas, too: the World Cup anthem, being one. On the back of his 1993 Christmas No.1 single, ubiquitous TV absurdity Mr Blobby released/inflicted his song, ‘Blobby Charlton’. The official offering, a re-release of D:Ream's ‘Things Can Only Get Better’ which featured the England squad on backing vocals, was duly upstaged in the charts – an ominous sign for the team's hopes in the USA. Preparations began with a return trip to the venue where England's qualification had hinged, the Ullevaal stadium, to face Norway. A largely forgettable and pedestrian 0-0 draw, in which Taylor learned next to nothing from his squad, was comfortably overshadowed by an almighty fuss involving several players, an Oslo nightclub and a flagrantly disregarded curfew. The press tucked into the story with gusto, while Taylor bemoaned the ‘refuelling habits’ of certain members of his squad. The last chance for the fringe players and newcomers to stake their claim for the USA, and for England to receive a morale-boosting send-off, came against Costa Rica at Wembley on 1 June, a few days before the final squad of 22 would be confirmed. Le Saux, Anderton, Cole and Sutton were all given starts but experienced mixed fortunes. Three presentable chances came and were squandered by a jittery Cole, whose electric goalscoring form had deserted him at the worst possible moment. England led at half-time through a David Platt penalty, but Wembley remained anxious and impatient for a spontaneous spark of magic. Cole made way for the eagerly-anticipated return of Peter Beardsley to the

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England scene – Taylor later admitted he should have started the Newcastle teammates in tandem – and, in the third minute of the second half, a trademark Beardsley shimmy set up Shearer (who had replaced the quiet Sutton) for a tidy second goal. The impish veteran began to run the show in a way only Gascoigne himself previously could for England. A pinpoint Le Saux cross found Shearer's head to make it 3-0 before, inevitably, Beardsley had the final say. Bursting yet again into the Costa Rica box, he met an Anderton pull-back on the halfvolley, pelting it in off the bar before goalkeeper Lonnis could even move. The BBC's John Motson hailed a ‘vintage Beardsley’ display, and the back pages left Taylor in no doubt over the popular choice for the fourth and final spot in his World Cup forward line. An emphatic scoreline against disinterested opposition it may have been, but the individual performances (of Beardsley and Le Saux in particular) had sown the seeds of English optimism. Anderton edged out McManaman to compete with Paul Merson on the right side of midfield, while Taylor put his faith in the out-of-form Des Walker's major tournament experience. England's 1994 World Cup squad: Goalkeepers: Seaman, Martyn, Flowers Defenders: Pearce, Pallister, Adams, Walker, Dixon, Keown, Le Saux Midfielders: Platt (c), Ince, Sharpe, Anderton, Batty, Merson, Palmer, Barnes Forwards: Shearer, Ferdinand, Wright, Beardsley After arriving at their World Cup base in Orlando, England's final test before the tournament began was a meeting at the Citrus Bowl with hosts USA, almost exactly a year since Taylor's nadir in Boston. Essentially an

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acclimatisation exercise for the stifling summer heat, the game became fragmented with a raft of substitutions from both sides, but a first international goal for Anderton and a rasping Stuart Pearce free-kick gave England another win. However, a heavy 89th-minute tackle from USA substitute Cobi Jones saw Paul Ince stretchered off in agony. An ankle ligament injury was the diagnosis, and Taylor fumed at the Americans' overly-physical approach, but Ince would be given every chance of making the opener against Mexico.

Group Phase After the penalty-taking hilarities from Diana Ross in the opening ceremony (we laughed at the time, but this would turn out to be a prescient moment), Group E began with a bang. Ray Houghton's swivel and lob over Gianluca Pagliuca gave Ireland an unexpected early win against Italy in New Jersey, before England began their campaign against Mexico at the RFK Stadium in Washington. Despite improvement of his troublesome ankle, the game came too early for Ince, so David Batty was drafted into the midfield. Shearer and Wright would lead the attack, while Anderton and Sharpe were charged with providing width to stretch the Mexicans. Back home on ITV, pundit Ray Wilkins said he was encouraged by England's balanced look, but Ireland's shock win had cranked the pressure up on Graham Taylor to get off to a flying start against a Mexico side who had struggled against European opposition (they had lost 4-1 against Switzerland and 5-1 against Russia earlier in the year). The relatively merciful 4pm kick-off on a warm day in Washington helped England, as they began purposefully. Garishly-attired goalkeeper Jorge Campos was forced to tip over the bar from Adams and then Wright in the opening exchanges, with the Mexicans forced back. As the first half

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wore on, however, England's initial gusto evaporated and Mexico began to dominate possession. Ince's midfield drive was certainly missed, but Batty's defensive instinct was shielding the back four well from the clever interchanges of attacking duo Garcia and Alves. At half-time, with England comfortable but making little impact, Taylor resisted making any changes. Wright had repeatedly been implored to exploit the channels but the midfield struggled to keep enough possession to supply him. Just after the hour mark came the hammer blow for England, albeit the goalscoring jolt that the game sorely needed as a spectacle. Mexican left-back Ramon Ramirez had already had a couple of sighters in the first half and advanced into space, 35 yards from goal. It seemed a little wide to take the shot on, but his thumping effort took Seaman by surprise and, via the heel of Pallister, flew in at his near post. The sizeable Mexican crowd erupted, while Taylor turned to his bench. Batty's security was sacrificed for Beardsley's invention. Mexico responded by shutting up shop and, try as Beardsley might, England rarely found an opening in the final third. A John Barnes free-kick flashed wide as Campos scrambled across his line, but Mexico were otherwise unruffled. Ferdinand joined the fray to replace the tireless Wright as England half-heartedly summoned the kitchen sink, but referee Sandor Puhl's whistle blew and Taylor's men trudged off to frustrated sighs in the ITV studio. ENGLAND WILT IN WASHINGTON and YOU'RE WASHED UP were the back-page condemnations the next morning, as Taylor was busy reacquainting himself with his drawing board. Four days later, Italy bounced back with a win against the Mexicans (Group E's third 1-0 scoreline in as many games) and England found themselves, winless, at the bottom of the table. And next up? Jack Charlton's buzzing, buccaneering Ireland in sun-bleached Orlando.

A Speculative Effort

Before the tournament, much had been made of the mid-summer heat's effect on England's hopes, and the Florida sun would prove their most gruelling challenge of all. Fortunately, the similarly all-action, Premier League style of the Irish faced the same sapping limitations. The pitchside temperature at midday edged 40 degrees â&#x20AC;&#x201C; this threatened to be a last-man-standing encounter in the roofless Citrus Bowl. Despite the conditions, Ince was deemed ready to return. Ian Wright, who had seemingly given every blade of grass a personal examination against Mexico, was spared in favour of Beardsley in an attempt to outmanoeuvre Ireland's central defence. Taylor needed no reminding (although he got it anyway) of England's previous major-tournament struggles against the Irish in Cagliari in 1990 and, more devastatingly, in Stuttgart at Euro 88. A third failure would be terminal for England's American dream. Predictably, with little regard for the sweltering heat, the two single-geared sides began at a frenetic pace. Swiss referee Roethlisberger, with a low tolerance for Premier League

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physicality, reached for his pocket twice in the first ten minutes as Shearer went in decades late on Phil Babb before Roy Keane clattered into Platt. With the reducers now out of the way, it was England who found the greater fluidity in the first half. Anderton and Sharpe were keeping the Irish fullbacks Denis Irwin and Terry Phelan occupied, while Beardsley was finding space by drifting between the Irish defence and midfield. On 33 minutes, Ince surged through the middle and flicked the ball right to Beardsley, who shuffled into the area and shot early with his right foot, through Babb's legs and into the far corner. ‘HOT SHOT!’ shrieked the BBC's Clive Tyldesley, as the delighted goalscorer leapt into Ince's arms in celebration. His second World Cup goal had been eight years in coming, and Taylor shared Beardsley's relief. England sought the shade of the dressing room at half-time with a spring in their step, while Ireland – with Tommy Coyne ploughing a lone furrow up front – hadn't created a single chance. Jack Charlton's immutable gameplan was lacking a focal point; Niall Quinn's knee injury had ruled him out of the tournament while his logical replacement, Tony Cascarino, had picked up a calf injury during Ireland's preparations. The veteran goal-plunderer John Aldridge kicked his heels on the bench, but he would feature later, infamously so. The second half had barely started before England had doubled their lead. Darren Anderton burst down the right and teed up Lee Dixon, whose looping cross was met perfectly at the back post by the head of Shearer, sending the ball back across Pat Bonner into the net. Shearer wheeled away in his customary manner – England, belatedly, were up and running. With the flagging Ireland now forced to chase the game, England should have been able to sit back and pick them off on the break. Any sense of calm, however, was disrupted when oncoming Irish substitute John Aldridge, followed by his manager Charlton, became involved in a wonderfully frank exchange of views with a baseball-capped FIFA official.

A Speculative Effort

Aldridge finally entered the fray and, with English concentration wandering (or perhaps melting), Ireland snatched a goal out of nothing. A long, angled ball from Steve Staunton sought out Coyne in the box, but the pass was marginally underhit. With the Florida sun still high in the sky, Stuart Pearce misjudged his clearing header and the ball fell to John Sheridan twenty yards from goal. On the half-volley, with Adams desperately throwing himself into an attempted block, Sheridan smashed past Seaman's outstretched right hand and into the billowing net. Suddenly, having sauntered into a two-goal lead against a Plan B-less Irish side, England were now clinging on. Eleven minutes remained. Sheridan tussled with Dixon in a maelstrom of netting and red faces to claim the ball for the restart – a booking apiece from the stone-faced Roethlisberger the result. Charlton introduced the fresh legs of Jason McAteer for a grandstand finish and Taylor responded with a double change; Barnes again replaced a visibly knackered Sharpe,

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while Beardsley was withdrawn to bring on the distinctly rangier Carlton Palmer to bolster the midfield. England braced themselves for a belts-and-braces onslaught which, in truth, Ireland just couldn't muster. Skipper Andy Townsend tried to drag them forward but Coyne was spent and Aldridge's sprightliness was, at 35, confined to the penalty area. A thirty-yard Roy Keane drive, which Seaman clutched to the turf for what felt like three days, was the final throw of the Irish dice. The Group of Death had become the Group of Mutually-Assured Destruction. After two rounds of games in Group E, all four teams had a win apiece and a goal difference of zero. England sat top by virtue of their head-tohead record against the Irish, who had scored one more than Italy in third place, with Mexico bottom following their loss to the Azzurri. While the endless permutations kept Des Lynam and his pundits busy on BBC, England's task was simple(ish): a win or a score-draw against the Italians would guarantee progression to the second round. The mathematical repercussions of a 0-0 draw, however, would cause the space-time continuum to explode and the World Cup awarded automatically to the Moon. Amazingly, after their punishing efforts in Orlando, England's only fitness concern was Lee Sharpe, who had been diagnosed with heat exhaustion. Barnes, in his third World Cup, would be his vastly-experienced deputy, while the rest of the team remained unchanged. The Italians, meanwhile, were once again without their captain Franco Baresi due to a knee injury and his replacement, Parma's Luigi Apolloni, was identified as a weak link by renowned Serie A aficionado Alan Hansen in the BBC studio. Another early-afternoon kick-off saw the sun beat straight down again at the RFK Stadium in Washington, although a light breeze took the edge off. Argentine referee Francisco Lamolina, unlike the schoolmasterly Roethlisberger

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in England's previous match, was known for his Siga, Siga reputation (literally: go on, go on) and England competed for every loose ball as if it were a ding-dong FA Cup tie. The robust Italian midfield of Albertini, Dino Baggio and Nicola Berti had considerable stomach for the battle, though, and – with qualification matters so delicately poised – the game was a scrappy, forgettable affair in the first half. Pearce and Dixon made only the occasional sortie into the Italy half, Barnes tucked in alongside Ince and Platt, and Beardsley did his best to knit things together whenever England pushed forward. The turning point came at the interval. The ineffective Casiraghi was replaced by Daniele Massaro, fresh from scoring twice in AC Milan's European Cup final demolition of Barcelona but unable to force his way into Arrigo Sacchi's starting lineup. Four minutes into the second half, he made the impact that would keep him in the team until the final. Albertini's lofted ball bisected the Pallister-Adams wall, Massaro tamed the ball with his chest and slammed his finish beyond a helpless Seaman. Taylor gestured despairingly at his players for getting caught cold so effortlessly and, regardless of what was unfolding between Ireland and Mexico in New Jersey, England were now staring elimination right in the sunburnt face. Stuart Pearce jabbed aggressively at his temple, urging his teammates to switch on, and a small squadron of English substitutes were sent to warm up. The full-backs now pressed forward urgently. Pearce powered beyond Barnes like a man possessed, immediately whipping in two crosses that Pagliuca had to punch clear of the waiting Shearer. Anderton stayed pinned to the right touchline, meanwhile, as England tried to stretch a compact Italian rearguard who seemed content to sit on Massaro's opener. The hour mark came and went; still Taylor kept his powder dry on the bench. Italy tested the heart of the BBC's already highly-strung John Motson with long-range efforts.

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A Speculative Effort

A Roberto Baggio free-kick flirted with the angle of post and bar before namesake Dino, ignoring the better-placed Massaro, fired a shot wide. With fifteen minutes to go, Paul Merson was introduced for Anderton, with the instructions to join Shearer and Beardsley from the right-hand side.

It was to be the game's second inspired substitution. Ninety seconds later, Dixon sent Arsenal teammate Merson scampering into the channel, marshalled closely by Paolo Maldini. Heading to the by-line, and rapidly running out of turf, Merson managed to dig out the peachiest peach of a cross. Beardsley's 5ft 8ins weren't quite tall enough at the near post but Shearer, having smartly pulled away from Apolloni, met the ball on the volley. It didn't so much nestle in Pagliuca's net as become absorbed, almost lost forever, in a mass of white nylon. ‘Aaaaaaooooggghhhh, EXTRAWWRD'NRYY!’ Motson squealed, in sheer ecstasy. Alongside him, Trevor Brooking struggled manfully to keep his composure. Pearce was again jabbing at that sweat-soaked temple, this time to

drag his teammates back to earth and, finally, see this excruciating group stage to its safe conclusion. Now it was Sacchi's turn to sweat. A goal for the Mexicans (still drawing 0-0 with an obstinate Ireland) would, Motson assured us, send his side home. Fearing a second England goal, they pressed forward with care. The substitute Donadoni was denied by a smart Seaman stop at the near post as the clocks ticked down in Washington and New Jersey. Sacchi's nerves would perhaps have been slightly less frayed if he could have seen the turgid encounter unfolding at the Giants Stadium, where McGrath was heading away anything that came near him as Mexico huffed and puffed. Lamolina's whistle brought a collective sigh of relief from the England contingent, who had done just enough to reach the second round. The reaction to the limp Mexico defeat had been encouraging for Taylor, Beardsley was justifying his return to the international fold and now Shearer – with one of the best goals of the tournament so far – was looking at home at football's top table. Ireland's opening-game heroics

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A Speculative Effort

had just about carried them through to the knockouts while the Italians – living up to their slow-starters reputation – scraped through along with Argentina, Belgium and USA as the best third-placed nations.

29 June 1994 Republic of Ireland 0–0 Giants Stadium, East Rutherford

GROUP E Team

Second Round

England Republic of Ireland Italy Mexico

Mexico

Pld W D L GF GA GD Pts 3 3 3 3

1 1 1 1

18 June 1994 Italy 0–1 Republic of Ireland Giants Stadium, East Rutherford 19 June 1994 Mexico 1-0 England RFK Stadium, Washington 23 June 1994 Italy 1–0 Mexico Giants Stadium, East Rutherford 24 June 1994 England 2–1 Republic of Ireland Citrus Bowl, Orlando 28 June 1994 Italy 1–1 England RFK Stadium, Washington

3 2 2 1

0 0 0 0

4 4 4 4

Lying in wait for England in the second round were Hristo Stoichkov and Bulgaria at the Giants Stadium in New Jersey. Having been overwhelmed by Nigeria (and the net-shaking Rashidi Yekini) in their first game, they bounced back to thrash the sorry, pointless Greeks and then shock Argentina. Stoichkov was backed by a supporting cast of attacking talent – Yordan Letchkov, Krasimir Balakov and Emil Kostadinov – and a defence patrolled by guard dog Trifon Ivanov. It was a team full of players at their peak and, crucially, with enough European top-flight nous to have England worried. ‘Our players are not scared of the England team,’ Bulgaria's coach Dimitar Penev declared in his press conference. ‘We know what we have to do.’ Midfielder Yordan Lechkov added, ‘We like the role of outsider’, but England were by no means clear favourites. Once again, Taylor was reluctant to make changes. Sharpe, now recovered from his exertions against Ireland, was restored to the left wing while Merson had to be content with a place on the bench despite his instant impact against Italy in Washington. The BBC's Jimmy Hill vociferously opposed the appointment of Syrian referee Jamal Al Sharif. An experienced European official, Hill argued to no-one in particular, would have been more suitable. Some erratic refereeing throughout the tournament, not helped by FIFA's stern directives on timewasting and tackles from behind, meant that any appointment would have been questioned. Nevertheless, Al Sharif's afternoon would be an eventful one.

Football Clichés

The opening minutes at the Giants Stadium were chess-like. Dixon and Pallister kept watchful eyes on the smouldering Stoichkov, and England were reluctant to leave themselves exposed to the Bulgarians' lightning counterattacks. Just as it seemed that only a moment of magic or a cruel slip could tip the game off-balance, Jimmy Hill's fears were realised in a way he perhaps might not have expected. As an Anderton corner was swung in from the right, Al Sharif's whistle blew. Brian Moore and Ron Atkinson, like most of us watching at home, assumed the usual cheap free-kick to the defending side. ‘And has he given a penalty, has he?! HE HAS!’, Moore spluttered in near disbelief. The Bulgarians either clasped their heads with similar incredulity or performed an angry ensemble dance around Al Sharif as he motioned to Emil Kremenliev, suggesting that his light examination of Ince's shirt was the offence. As the appeal process inevitably stalled, the penalty area cleared and Mikhailov finally retreated to his line, Alan Shearer was left standing on the spot and placed the ball. A further delay – the referee wanted the ball re-placed. Mikhailov bounced on his line again. Shearer stepped up, Mikhailov guessed and leapt the right way, but the shot sliced away from his gloves and into the top left. Up went a Shearer arm as he charged off in celebration. Stoichkov's glares towards the referee continued even as the game restarted and, taking their talisman's lead, the Bulgarian's struggled to refocus. England were encouraged forward; Ince unleashed a 25-yard drive straight at Mikhailov, before an instinctive shot on the turn from David Platt was tipped over the bar. Anderton and Sharpe were almost taking it in turns to raid down the wings and, only five minutes after Shearer's penalty, the endeavour was rewarded with a beautifully-crafted second goal. Sharpe's quick one-two with Beardsley set him free on the left and his first-time cross whipped into the Bulgaria box. In came the forehead of Platt

A Speculative Effort

to direct a stunning header into the far corner, a finish every bit as aesthetically pleasing and action replay-friendly as his hooked volley against Belgium at the same stage of Italia 90. And, just as in Bologna, his crazed grin said it all: England were flying. Stoichkov finally talked himself into a booking as Bulgaria trudged off at half-time. England were forced into a change, as the hamstrung Dixon was replaced by Des Walker. Having experienced an unhappy 1992/93 season at Sampdoria, where manager Sven-Göran Eriksson had deployed him on the left, Walker wasn't the ideal full-back but, with Bulgaria still in a funk of injustice, this wouldn't become the stringent test it should have been. Bulgarian coach Penev introduced an extra striker in Nasko Sirakov – whose dangly earring escaped the officials' attention – to play alongside Emil Kostadinov, while Stoichkov probed from the left. Taylor, for perhaps the first time since the comfortable qualifying win over Poland at Wembley back in the September of 1993, cut a relaxed figure on the England bench alongside

Football Clichés

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Phil Neal and (despite the unrelenting heat) the immaculatelyblazered Lawrie McMenemy. Bulgaria had built up a head of steam in their wins over Greece and Argentina, but Taylor's side stifled them expertly in New Jersey. England had steadily improved as the tournament had gone on, but there hadn't yet been a moment to dizzy the head or to elevate the expectations of those back home. In the absurdly appropriate 66th minute, Alan Shearer delivered that moment. Stuart Pearce sent a long ball to Peter Beardsley on the edge of the Bulgaria box and, although Ivanov towered above him to head away, it only fell as far as Shearer almost thirty yards from goal. An instinctive touch with the thigh brought the ball under his spell. ‘Go on, son,’ Atkinson muttered, as Shearer steadied himself. The volley exploded off his right boot, dipping and swerving, and flew in with a brief kiss off Mikhailov's far post. The goal of USA '94. Among the olés – Graham Taylor's England playing champagne football, ladies and gentlemen – a smartly-taken 90th minute consolation from Sirakov barely registered. England's Euro '92 donkeys had beaten Bulgaria's dark horses by a couple of lengths. The reward was an extended stay in New Jersey, a World Cup quarter-final and yet another crack at an old foe.

substituted against the South Koreans (a decision which didn't quite have the squad's full backing) and captain Lothar Matthäus was struggling with a foot injury picked up in the same game. Vogts' side had, like England, suffered from the soaring temperatures but had the significant advantage of three extra days' rest after their 3-2 victory over Belgium in the second round. Klinsmann's strike partnership with three-time World Cup veteran Rudi Völler had finally clicked in that game, after Vogts had initially favoured Karl-Heinz Riedle in the group stage. Much like in that pivotal qualifier in Oslo, Taylor had a tactical quandary. Conscious of being outnumbered in the heart of midfield, and with Lee Dixon struggling with his hamstring injury, Taylor once again turned to his 3-5-2 alternative. Pearce joined Adams and Pallister in defence, which meant wing-back roles for Anderton and, in only his third cap, Graeme Le Saux. David Batty would anchor the midfield, allowing David Platt to get forward more frequently than in previous games to support Beardsley and Shearer.

Quarter-final

Germany: Illgner; Matthäus (c), Berthold, Helmer, Kohler, Wagner, Sammer, Moller, Hässler, Klinsmann, Völler

In comparison with England's group-stage rollercoaster, defending champions Germany made light work of progressing from Group C. Four Jürgen Klinsmann goals helped secure a win against Bolivia in the opening game, a draw against unfancied Spain and a 3-2 win over South Korea. It hadn't been entirely plain sailing, however. Vogts sent temperamental midfielder Stefan Effenberg packing after he had offered jeering fans a middle finger when being

England: Seaman, Pearce, Pallister, Adams, Anderton, Batty, Platt (c), Ince, Le Saux, Shearer, Beardsley

Referee: José Torres Cadena (COL) Terry Venables, Jimmy Hill and Alan Hansen joined Des Lynam in the BBC studio. Barry Davies and Trevor Brooking were to be our calming television presence throughout this quarter-final, watched by a peak audience of 24.4m.

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As expected, much of the early stages were a midfield battle. Ince saw yellow after only nine minutes for a hopelessly late challenge on Matthäus, as the Columbian referee José Torres Cadena set his stall out. Cadena's whistle hardly left his lips, as soft free-kick followed soft free-kick. Klinsmann and Völler lurked with intent in and around the England defence, never giving Adams a moment's rest. Le Saux looked nervous on his baptism of World Cup fire, even with the senior figure of Pearce behind him, and rarely ventured beyond his opposite number Thomas Berthold in the first half. It seemed only a matter of time before Cadena's pedantic refereeing would catch someone out and, to England's horror, it was they who paid the price. Andreas Möller took a tumble after Batty dared to breath in his direction and Ince, a fraction of a second after the whistle had gone, hoofed the ball away and over the German bench. Under pressure from the gesticulating Germans, who sensed an opportunity, Cadena showed Ince his second yellow and a red with a theatrical one-two flourish. FIFA's directive on timewasting had been followed to the letter, but Ince furiously pointed to his ears to indicate that he hadn’t heard the whistle. Even with the 72,000 crowd at the Giants Stadium, this seemed unlikely, but Cadena's decision nevertheless incensed the English contingent. Taylor repeatedly directed his audible ire towards a startled linesman and then the fourth official as Ince trudged into the bowels of the stadium; Brooking, for once, didn't mince his words, calling the decision ‘a scandal’. England were a man down with four minutes of the first half still to play. Having regrouped at the interval, England knew they couldn't retreat to their eighteen-yard box and invite German pressure. With Batty holding in front of the back three, Beardsley dropped deeper alongside Platt, while Le Saux and Anderton continued to patrol the wide areas. The Germans inevitably began to dominate possession, with Matthäus

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venturing forward more and more from his sweeper position, but England held firm. Thirty minutes left. Twenty minutes left. Whatever England were holding out for, it was edging closer. On 74 minutes, the roving Hässler was barged over by Anderton on the left wing. As England gathered themselves for the free-kick, Hässler took it quickly and exchanged passes with Wagner. The inswinging cross evaded Pallister's head on its way into the corridor of uncertainty. Seaman stayed rooted to his line as Klinsmann darted across Adams and planted a diving header into the bottom-right corner. England's depleted resistance was broken and the goalscorer galloped away to celebrate his sixth goal of the tournament. England had trailed against Mexico in their opening game and couldn't force parity, while Shearer's belter had crucially dragged them level against the Italians to take them beyond the groups. But with ten men, against defending champions who were not particularly known for sloppiness, this seemed like a step too far. Ian Wright was summoned from the bench in place of Beardsley as Taylor went for broke in the final quarter of an hour, and the Arsenal striker immediately began to hare after loose balls. The minutes ticked by and England instinctively started to go more direct; the German markers Jürgen Kohler and Thomas Helmer were now finally being made to sweat under pressure from the previously isolated Shearer. Eight minutes left. Another Kohler clearance fell to Le Saux, who was immediately confronted by Berthold. Pushing it past the wing-back, Le Saux made space for a cross and wrapped his left foot around the ball, which cannoned off the German's wrist, a yard inside the area. Penalty. Cardena raced over to the spot and thrust a hand earthwards. Now it was Germany's turn to swarm around him and, amid the jostling, Matthäus and Völler were booked.

Football Clichés

Alan Shearer clutched the ball and over 24 million BBC viewers held their breath. His penalty against Bulgaria had been dispatched in his usual way – powerfully, high and to the left – and he stepped up again in front of the same goal as he had five days previously. Shearer glanced at the referee before bustling towards the ball. Illgner twitched on his line, but the penalty was, as before, unerring on its way high to his right. Out of sheer relief, or perhaps sheer exhaustion, there was no wheeling away with glee this time. Twenty-four million BBC viewers finally exhaled and punched the air with him. The last eight minutes felt like they were in slow motion, as twenty-one pairs of legs dragged themselves rather aimlessly around the pitch. Neither side could coordinate an assault for a decisive goal in the remainder of the ninety, and Cardena's whistle brought the benches swarming onto the pitch to issue fluids and hurried rub-downs to the cramping sets of calves and hamstrings. Batty, who had been run ragged by Moller and Hässler, couldn't continue and was replaced by Carlton Palmer. Extra-time brought further drama. Karl-Heinz Riedle, on for Völler, was millimetres from connecting with a low Wagner cross that flashed across the England goal. Almost straight up the other end, England won a corner. Taylor urged his men forward – Platt, Adams, Pallister all ventured up. As Anderton floated a hopeful cross into the melee, Illgner went to punch. Up leapt Pallister with him, seemingly getting there a fraction before the goalkeeper, and nodding it off the underside of the bar and down on to the line. England appealed to Cardena, convinced that it had gone over, but the whistle had already blown against Pallister for the most dubious of fouls. We all knew where this was headed, and the end of extra-time came as a blessed relief from the agonising tension. Lynam and his guests puffed out their cheeks in the studio: ‘Well, here we are again,’ Des wearily quipped, as drained from the preceding 120 minutes as the rest of us.

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Shearer was first up for England in the shootout..Illgner went to his right again, but the ball flew in the other side off Shearer's in-step. Hässler buried his effort to level it up. David Platt strode forward and converted with the minimum of fuss. Matthäus fired down the middle to make it 2-2. Stuart Pearce, dragging his balls of titanium all the way from the centre circle, was next. Barry Davies' voice, although he tried not to show it, betrayed his dread. With Turin still a vivid memory, Illgner stared Pearce down from his goalline, but failed to establish eye contact. Six thunderous strides later, Pearce rammed the ball into the bottom left, glared back at Illgner and clenched a fist, while the usually so eloquent Davies allowed himself a roaring, unashamed and utterly brilliant ‘GET IN!’. It was quite an act for Klinsmann to follow, but he expertly duped Seaman with enough disguise to keep the Germans level once more. Illgner could only help Wright's powerful penalty into the net for 4-3, before Riedle found the top corner with ease.

Football Clichés

With Ince and Batty already off, England's fifth penalty fell to substitute Carlton Palmer. If there had been 24.4 million howls of terror before Stuart Pearce exorcised his Italia 90 demons, then Carlton Palmer's walk to the penalty spot was witnessed through a similar number of sets of fingers. Just belt it, Carlton. Some penalty takers, like Waddle in Turin four years previously, have the look of a condemned man before they even reach the penalty area. Some, like Shearer, look like they haven't given the prospect of failure a moment's consideration. Palmer belonged to the third category of shootout body language – every sinew of his body trying to mask the fact he’s shaking like a leaf. He placed the ball as if he'd never seen a penalty spot before, or indeed a football. There were three nervous glances to the referee before the whistle signalled for him to proceed. Palmer's run-up was 90 per cent haste, 10 per cent speed and, as his gargantuan frame shaped itself to shoot, Illgner was already halfway across his line in anticipation. The sidefooted shot lacked such power, height and direction that Illgner very nearly dived past it, the ball ricocheting back off a combination of thigh and glove and back into Palmer's path. Instinctively, he thumped the rebound back again, this time cannoning off the crossbar and causing the referee to duck just as he whistled for a German victory. White shirts slalomed past Palmer while he slumped to his haunches. Graham Taylor's low-key resignation on the plane seemed inevitable, as England looked to a future under the incoming Venables. They had to lick their wounds for two years afterwards, watching the rest of Europe qualify for Euro 96, but the hosts were much the wiser for their American adventure. Alan Shearer's five goals didn't earn him the Golden Boot in 1994, but instead a world record £14.3m move to Serie A with Inter, and he arrived home for the European

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Championships as the finished article. A six-goal haul, including winners in a revengeful semi-final against Germany and the climax against the Czech Republic at Wembley, carried England – now also boasting a fully-fit Gascoigne – to glory on home turf thirty years after Moore, Charlton and Hurst. It may have been Sir Terry Venables who basked in the triumph of that victory, but Graham Taylor, now cruelly a mere footnote in English football history, had sown these seeds all the way back in Oslo three years previously. The series of events during these fictional three years or so may sound incredibly convenient, but some retrospective what-iffing is just as much part of football as it is to dream about the future. Fortunes can change in a single moment, or with a single result, and it only takes a few of those to define a whole era. In Graham Taylor’s case, his tactical gamble against the Norwegians proved to be the beginning of the end but, as Jack Charlton’s Ireland proved, the all-action Premier League style of football was not an unwelcome guest at USA 94. After England’s historic contributions to the World Cup stories of 1986 and 1990 – and before Euro 96 and the dramatic tussle with Argentina in Saint-Etienne in 1998 – there sits a huge gap in their record. Just as Diana Ross continues to rue her opening-day penalty miss, you can’t help but wonder how loudly the Three Lions would have roared across the Atlantic twenty years ago.

Football ClichĂŠs

Available in hardback and ebook 09/10/14 Click here to pre-order

Football ClichĂŠs

A speculative effort, from distance, to translate the curious language of football

Adam Hurrey

Come-and-get-me pleas 10%

Parking the bus 6%

Determination 5%

Dramatic U-turns 3%

Grit 5%

Transfer war chests 14%

Aplomb 7%

Potential banana skins 3%

Half a dozen of the other 6%

Bragging rights 19%

Six of one 6%

Booing 3% European hangovers 1%

Imaginary yellow cards 7% Dreaded votes of confidence 10%

Schoolboy defending 4%

Metatarsals 1%

TOTAL: 110%