Beckham's 'lash out'. Phil Neville's challenge. Ronaldinho's fluke. Rooney's stamp. All incidents that have caused a million teenage hearts to break, including my own. I still had a firm grip on International football hope back in 2006 as I watched in horror as the referee produced another red card that all but ended England's World Cup dream. "I just wish..." I whined, to my friend who'd accompanied me across Germany for the previous three weeks, "That someone would beat us fairly and squarely and take away that bit of doubt that with a bit more luck, we could've done it." I was 22 and still convinced England had it in them to win a major trophy. I'm now 27. And I'm utterly convinced they won't within the next 20 years. What changed? Some would say I've developed a cynical side that come with the adult territory. Though I don't necessarily disagree, I think that cynicism is rapidly catalysed by consistent failure and worse, the consistent excusing of the undeniable failure. Yes, the national team has had some bad luck over the last decade and a half but during the same timescale, when have they ever shown genuine World Class performances, or more tellingly, results? The obvious two that stick in the mind are the 1996 European Championships demolition of Holland and the unforgettable rout of Germany in Munich. The potential flashed in Euro 96 never quite transformed into ruthlessness. I'll never criticise or downplay 'that night' in Munich but to put the one off result into perspective, our opponents that night reached the final of the competition both teams were scrapping for qualification into, whereas England were applauded from their aeroplane having fought all the way to the urrrm... Quarter Finals. England did manage to share that spotlight with seven other superpowers of World football: Brazil, Germany, Spain... Senegal...Turkey... USA and urrrm...South Korea. Not exactly the shoulders a nation carrying such expectancy should be rubbing up next to in order to return home to rapturous applause. Similarly and for me, a defining moment in English press' stupidity was the most recent England failure: That of their women's team. Having qualified, at a bit of a canter, for the World Cup Quarter Finals, England lost on penalties to an impressive France side, who despite being minutes away from losing the tie, stayed patient and in control right up to their 85th minute winner and then through thirty minutes of extra time and penalties. It was the left footed Claire Rafferty and England's inspirational captain Faye White that eventually let their country down. A captain missing a decisive penalty? A left footed full back missing the target? Sound familiar? Yet upon the full time whistle, the BBC commentator and pundits alike can't help themselves but pour sympathy and superlatives over the latest group of failures. Gallant and heroic were two such compliments that were lavished upon the quarter final losers and I'm since to read a bad word written about them since. Not that it's White and Rafferty that necessarily deserve criticism but there's something about a hardworking, technically and conditionally inept losing team that mainstream English press can't help but fall in love with. What English women's football needs to take from this summer is that they don't have enough players with ultimate confidence in possession and physically, they were a mile behind France who barely seemed to break stride whilst literally half of England's side huffed, puffed and limped around the extra thirty minutes like Battle of Agincourt veterans. Yet, the English public, blindly waving their St George's Cross from their bedroom windows, seem to miss the point. Again. No matter whether Beckham lost his temper, Phil Neville needed to go to ground or Ronaldinho or Rooney meant it, the common fact remains that with modern England's lack of imagination, ideas and to put it bluntly, skill, England had no chance in any of the respective tournaments anyway. It takes more than bravery and desire to beat every other nation on the planet. It usually takes either ruthless efficiency and ball retention or side with enough flair and creativity to consistently break down even the sturdiest of defences a couple of times per ninety minutes. I don't expect England to ever be the type of side to blow teams away with fluent, undefendable attacking football but I do expect them to be able to keep the ball as well as any other International team and consistently create clear cut chances. Since the 1980's, it seems every nation in the World has caught on to the value of possession. Except England. Hence why the likes of Ukraine, Switzerland and Sweden are consistently made to look like decent sides by clueless and lacklustre England performances while Portugal, Germany and France never seem to fail but to cast England aside. Every team has been modernised in their style of play whilst England has, at best, remained static. At worst, it's regressed. Speaking of style, I recently attended a charity function at a local Primary School with work when, during the kids' lunch break, a game of football broke out. Intrigued, I sat and watched about 15 kids scramble moronically around a tennis ball which had been hurled as far forward as physically possible by one team's 'keeper, only for the other custodian to mimic tact precisely when he eventually got his hands on the ball. "Why a tennis ball?" I asked the (Scottish) head mistress who'd wandered over, beaming, like a proud early century Queen observing her domain's latest civil war. "Oh! Far less broken windows with smaller balls, you see?" she replied. I don't think she noticed by deliberate baffled expression as I glanced around looking for the closest window to where the children were playing, eventually locating it a good 40 yards from the closest point on the makeshift pitch. A distance at least twice that of the pitch itself. I can't help but wonder how these lads are supposed to develop as footballers when nobody is there to teach them how to create, to keep, to pass, to retain. I played competitive football from the age of eight right up until the age of twenty four, most of it as a centre half. It struck me a few year ago that over that sixteen year period, not once had I been told how or when to play an offside trap. When to push up, when to sit back. When to keep possession, when to clear lines. It's left down to players' instinct as the only players recognised for their ability in this country are those who are mentally superior and those who are in the top percentile of athletes. Imagine if players like Terry, Pearce and Butcher had even half the technical mastery of Iniesta, Maldini or even Gerard Pique. This country relies on the players themselves mastering the technical side of the game, rather than instilling it from as early an age as possible. I've been lucky enough over recent years to not only witness the ruthless efficiency of multiple German sides but also experience the rise in power of a new style by a newly promoted nation whose technical mastery has accelerated to meteoric proportions both domestically and Internationally. A team that has thrown out the rule book, taken what they're good at, hereditably and made it the emphasis of a fresh brand of football that the rest of the world are destined to be playing catch up to for many years. I'm of course referencing Spain and their wonderful rise from England-esque also-rans to firm and deserved favourites at pretty much anything the enter. Never has such accolade been more deserved either, with several World class performances leaving many tough and experienced International warriors on their knees, shields and wills battered. I first noticed the difference between Spain and England when, upon losing a bet with my best friend, I had to sacrifice a QPR home game (the only one I missed all season) for a trip to see Chelsea take on Barcelona at the Nou Camp in a Champions League Quarter Final. My uneducated perception was originally confused, not by the players' attitudes or performance but more by the reaction of the Spanish crowd. Initially, my confusion was aroused when, seeing Carles Puyol rise spring-like above Didier Drogba to head away a Peter Cech place kick out for a throw in, the expected and normal (for a QPR fan at the time) applause for such rugged and physical defending, never came. Odd, I thought. Stranger still, was the almost bizarre and conflicting hysteria from the Nou Camp as it almost erupted shortly after when Puyol again rose above Drogba, only this time managed to control a cushioned header to the feet of his full back. It took a good hour of football - such was my lack of exposure to such a mind-set - for me to realise what the Barcelona fans wanted from their players more than anything else other than goals. Guts? Will? Honour? Pride? No. Skill? Flair? Creativity? In essence, not necessarily. Pace? Power? Desire? Eagerness? Certainly not. All these people wanted of their players, all the players had to do in order to receive such unquestioned praise, was keep the ball. A World Cup and European Championship later, I understand. I read after Spain's world cup success that there are so many qualified coaches in their country that for an English boy to gain the equivalent quality of coaching of a Spanish 8 year old, he'd most likely have to sign pro forms at a football league club. Such absurdity from a nation so eager to impress how important the sport is to its people is mystifying and the English FA and public get exactly what they deserve year after year for expecting something for absolutely nothing. And until the press and public face up to reality, I'm afraid England's destiny will continue to cross paths with gallant and heroic failure, year after year after year.
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