So we’re through to the last sixteen and it’s Germany next. Blimey. Sunday is going to be tense. Let’s face it, aside from 1966 (when we played all our games at home and also benefited from a decision from a Russian linesman who may possibly have lost half his family in the second world war and could well have held a slight grudge against the Germans), they’ve always gone further in world cups than us. Which doesn’t augur well.
On the other hand, Germany are a young team and experience often tells in major tournaments. The two finalists in 2006 had the oldest average age of any of the teams. Also, the match is being shown on the BBC and this can only aid our chances. We have a much higher win percentage on the BBC. It’s as if the players play better knowing that as soon as the half time whistle blows, the studio discussion begins. There are no commercial breaks in which to escape the horrible reality of a bad performance.
It’s also likely that we’ll play in all red, which as we now know is probably the colour that will take us to our first major trophy for forty-four years. We’re never happy in white apparently (except when we beat Germany 5-1 in Munich).
Most importantly, we have John Terry. Now while I’ve always had respect for our ex-captains football ability, he’s not exactly been a great role model what with the dodgy training ground dealings and the extra-marital affairs. But against Slovenia, he did something that made me look at him in a totally new light.
I always knew he was brave. But on Wednesday afternoon, ten minutes from the end of the game, he tried to stop a shot with his head. Not a cross or a Rory Delap type throw-in, both of which he’s dealt with a million times playing for club and country. This was a shot. A proper, foot through the ball, “get in there” shot. I don’t know anyone else in England who would try to stop one of those with their head. You can only admire courage like that and at that moment, I honestly thought we might have a chance of winning the trophy.
Of course if we do beat the Germans (and I’m prepared to renounce atheism and return into the arms of God if it’ll help), we’ll probably play Argentina. And then Spain. And then Brazil. And if England win those four games, not only do they deserve to be world champions but I would give every one of the players a six-month amnesty from legal proceedings for any minor criminal offence and grant them permission to take any woman in the country for their wife. Although some of them don’t seem to need permission.
Now I realise that promising England players the earth based on the scenario that they beat, in a row, four of the best teams in the world is hardly going out on a limb. It’s a bit like the way that retailers promised refunds on any major electrical items bought before the tournament if England won it.
But hey, this is a world cup full of surprises. Italy have just gone out of the competition having lost to Slovakia (I’m sure there are many people who didn’t even know that was a country). They finished a point below New Zealand in their group. Spain lost to Switzerland. Germany lost to Serbia. Why can’t the eighth best team in the world beat the teams ranked seventh, sixth, second and first in the world? In eighteen days. Without one of their first choice central defenders. Stranger things have happened. Two days ago, I saw a man try to stop a shot with his head.
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