Boycott England

#6

International break will be over after this evening and tomorrow we can all start to look forward to the weekend and Fulham away. Bread and butter will never taste so good. Don't know about you, but I've already got my gram and hooker at the ready. However, the clock still needs to tick tock into Wednesday before I ruin my nasal septum whilst having a twenty-one year old wrap her legs around my neck.

I've been positively brain dead with boredom. Placing aside daily routines consisting of travel and work and household stuff (did someone say baby?), I've had to find ways to amuse myself, keep myself entertained. It's not like there are no Tottenham stories doing the rounds out there. There are plenty. But you'll have read them. Countless times. I'm not inspired enough to write up commentary on said stories either. Again, mainly because there's not really that much to comment on, and there are plenty of media outlets and sites echoing the same bits and pieces of rumours and quotes.

I've said all I've wanted to say about Gollivan and Brady. But that hasn't stopped me from crashing my lolcopter whilst reading how West Ham have had a huge boost in their bid to claim the stadium from the grasp of Spurs. Three words. Northumberland Redevelopment Project. The Olympic stadium is a 'back up' a 'ploy'. How many times now? Move the f**k on.

Then, I think at the start of the break, there was Comolli trying to take credit for the players he signed during his tenure that are doing so well at Spurs currently. Cheers for that Damien. Do you also want to take responsibility retrospectively of the fact the club signed mis-matched individuals with different levels of application and varying styles of ability and technique that as a collective didn't quite gel and blend together until after you (director of football, right?) was sacked? What? No comment?

Oh look, I'm commentating. Stop it. Down boy.

Sigh.

Once the England game is done and dusted we can start talking tactics and formations with complete freedom and begin the padding up process of our knees to help deter the potential for jerks post-final whistle over at Craven Cottage this Saturday. Ah yes, back to reality.

So, how exactly have I amused myself other than writing up these journals, burning the midnight candle? I haven't, if I'm perfectly honest. Seems the England disease has infected my tolerance level and I have become susceptible to various ills and tragedy. I'm practically draining the soul out of my body. I've done nothing with my 'free time'. To elaborate:

X-Factor
Sleep paralysis
Peppa Pig
Eye-balling a fox that was rummaging through the rubbish bins
The only way is Essex

I've hit rock-bottom.

This is England, this is torture. I've even starved myself of James Richardson's puns, bless his brilliant bald head.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrgh!

So, as I've not been paying any attention to football news or found the patience to, I'll comment on the above list rather than whatever the heck is going on in the England camp at the moment. Regular readers, I apologise for the off topic meltdown. Day trippers, it's how I roll.

X-Factor - The newspaper coverage is almost akin to some of the BS you get about our beloved football club when the reporting bends reality to suit the headline and the hype. It's all self-serving and keeps it in topic. Do people honestly believe the judges (other than Cowell) have the full responsibility of selecting their 'final three' for the live shows? Cheryl Cole is there because of her undisputable beauty. That's it. You'll probably asking (again) why I even bother. Well as previously stated, it feeds my cynicism. I need a fix, and I'm happy to tap my veins on a Saturday night to get it. The first of the live shows was particularly uncomfortable car-crash viewing, yet behold, according to the 'experts' it was magical/brilliant/amazing.

Close your eyes and you could have been listening to Jamie Redknapp and Richard Keys telling you that the bore-draw being played out on Sky Sports is an epic 'chess game'.

Are people fooled by all this or do they know, but just like to pretend they don't? Watching this show, angering the blood, at one point I was certain I could see red, but alas, I had just subconsciously stabbed my eyes out with a pen.

Sleep paralysis - You're awake in bed, but you're not. Unable to move a muscle, buried under overwhelming fear of the unknown. You can’t get up and you can't wake up. Stuck in the limbo that exists between sleep and awakening. It's just like being in the singing section at the Emirates.

Peppa Pig - Countless potatoes references. Pigs and various animals driving cars stuck in a traffic jam. Banging theme music. Childrens television is made for magic mushroom consumption.

Eye-balling a fox that was rummaging through the rubbish bins - Next time, and there will be a next time, I will dismantle the sonofabitch piece of filth, bone by skinny bone.

The only way is Essex - Buckhurst Hill is where they frequent. Oh the shame of these plastic superficial twats, twatting around with daddies money. There are plenty of characters in and around Essex, so what do we get? Clichéd stereotypes attempting to act out their lives in forced exaggerated stage set-pieces in a production that makes The Hills look like Citizen Kane. Head butting the tv has never felt so great.

That's it. Someone tweet me when Liverpool go into administration because I'm immensely looking forward to the follow-up to that hugely embarrassing video Mike Jerfferies made with fans and 'celebs'  where they all cry into the camera about how the Yanks have been raping the Anfield club and yadda yadda yadda. I might have sank low these past two weeks what with my ITV brain haemorrhaging session, but compared to the scousers, at least I've retained a degree (be it a little) of self-respect.

Peace. Out.

And for the love of God, COYMFS.

You've been reading the sixth and final part of Spooky's International Break diary journals.

Part one - International Heart break

Part two - Tottenham till I die

Part three - A spoon full of sugar makes the Venables go down

Part four - FAO Sullivan, Gold and Brady

Part five - In defence of Robbie Keane

International heart-break

#1

International break. It's no longer about whether England perform solidly and win and more so a thoroughly painstaking experience looking through your fingers as you cover your face with your hand gagging on your heart in mouth, hoping/praying/sacrificing the Arsenal supporting neighbours cat to pacify the footballing Gods type of evening in.

We (The Tottenham) have got plenty of international players. But it's the ones who represent England that tend to come back with missing limbs and shrapnel embedded in their splintered bodies. This time round, we have Huddlestone, Lennon and Crouch representing. Some of you may argue that your concerns will be more focused on the likes of Bale and van der Vaart. Both more likely to play a part for their nation. I think. You know what, I haven't even checked the fixture list for midweek and next week. I'm that frigging professional. The fact of the matter is, you and I will both be hoping for no injuries more so than looking out for actual results and performances. The priority is club over country. Again.

We don't want our merchandise returned damaged.

So, what to do in the mean time? Not a lot. Other than endure the time out from the Premier League by going for brisk walk in the park and writing poetry for your lover. Perhaps the weaker amongst you will try to pretend you do care about Fabio and the boys because you prefer to dance with the devil and watch the game with a machete in one hand and the neighbours cat in the other.

I sadly can't muster up the will power at the moment to ready myself for the torment of watching the live coverage.

Okay, you got me, I've misplaced my machete.

My attention, to be perfectly honest with you, will be firmly stuck on another type of kick-off altogether this weekend (rather than the one against Montenegro on Tuesday 12th). I'm talking about the live X-Factor shows that begin on Saturday. Yes, you heard me right. I said, X-Factor. I said X-Factor on a Spurs blog. I've gone and done it now, I've pulled you all outside of the boundaries of sports writing and into off-topic discussion. Don't shake your head at me. Hey, stop spitting at your monitor screen, calm down will ya!

In my defence, I watch it for the pure cynicism that it evokes from me, as it's the most fabricated, contrived show on television and somehow people who tune in seem to either not care about the big con and the awful set-piece acting and scripted pretences or just accept it for what it is and watch it regardless for the kicks provided by the soap opera dramatics it positively drowns in. Bit like following England I guess. You might ask why, if I know its such a shallow show, why would I still tune in just to anger the blood to boiling point? I guess it's because I can scream and shout at the stupidity and the egos without the back draft of worrying about the end result. Oh hold up, that's just like following England again.

However, the Three Lions have Ashley and X-Factor has Cheryl.

No contest.

How can I possibly resist the beauty of Tweedy as she subtly looks down at the sheet of paper in front of her, eyes glistening with concentration, and looks back up again to the contestant waiting nervously on stage as she reads out the highlighted-for-her-attention relevant sound-bite to exuberant applause from the studio audience.

Hating on International break? A million percent yes from me.

You have been reading the first in the series of Spooky's International Break diary journals.

Observations

Some observations and statto type stuff. Not that they need highlighting, but in case you've just woken up from a coma, read on. What with the fabled International Break now upon us, many will want to avoid slipping into a coma so best to keep talking about Spurs. No chance of boredom what with all the various arcs and sub-plots doing the rounds over in N17.

Goals Conceded, Goals Scored

Only Chelsea and City have conceded less goals in the league than us. But the former has scored almost double the amount we have. Sort of great, sort of not. Make-shift defence currently getting away with it or doing a sterling job. Depends on how deep you analysis from one game to the next. Down to bare bones, yet we keep plugging away. As for our forwards and lack of goals...

One Goal

Seven Prem games in and the collective force of Defoe, Crouch, dos Santos, Roman and Keane have given us the one, single goal between them. If forwards are not scoring, then you have to look at their all round play to justify their inclusion. JD is injured. So that leaves just Crouch who does assist, at the very least. And he's good with his feet too, apparently. You know, for a tall bloke.

One Point

One point gained against Wigan, WBA and West Ham. And yet we find ourselves in the top 5. Man Utd haven't won away from home yet and are third. Either the league is very average or super competitive. The only thing we should be gutted about is that we are just as slow out of the blocks, stuttering away, much like 99% of the league.

What if...oh what if, we had hit the ground running and changed up a gear earlier in the season? This old season of seven games of age.

At the minute, even Chelsea who have stormed ahead, don't look out of this world amazing. They don't have to be. Man Utd, are looking mid-table. How's that for controversy. Fergie will have to sign 3/4 of our players in Jan to juice up his side again. Batten down the hatches, Daniel.

So, with us and 4th spot, it's going to be about who starts to pull away from their competition, and thus applying the pressure on the chasing pack. The alternative is, this stop-start we've got in the Prem at the moment which everyone seems to be embracing, continues, which will mean this season might well be the most open ever. More so than last season. Can you handle that? I'm still holding out with my prediction that we'll finish about City and we'll finish in the Top 4. Again. There is something eerie about the Prem this season.

England squad

Crouch is joined by Huddlestone and Lennon. May the Gods have mercy on us this time round. We're a big club now, right? Can they not all pull out due to slight knocks?



WALOB II

Defoe. Off. On a stretcher. Clutching his ankle. Three Spurs players go on England duty. How many come back fit? Can someone say 'conspiracy'? If you want further evidence, look no further than this Saturday's up and coming EPL game away to W.B.A.

Howard Webb officiates.

Facebook Tottenham Relegation Party group in 3...2...1...

WALOB

Sodding internationals. Why don't they just line-up our players and shoot them in the back of the head. I'm going to go score some coke and drink a bottle of rum.

Update on Friday, September 3, 2010 at 9:47PM by spooky

Defoe hat-trick. Defoe limps off. I can't prove it, but this game was set up specifically to hurt our season. The ghost of David Dein lives on in the halls of the Football Association.

Wear your heart on your sleeve

So, here I am. Having returned from a weekend no-internet sabbatical. I have seen nothing at all of our 3-2 home friendly win against Fiorentina. Dare I ask...is Robbie Keane showing signs of redemption in form? It's pre-season though, right? So I guess we can't read too much into it. Although dos Santos continues to pull out the tricks apparently. No sign of any new signings. Harry now spouting sound-bites that we are not in a position to challenge the upper tier unless he brings in 3 players. Everyone awaits to see what Citeh plan to do, considering their untold targets and little squad room. They buy, they need to sell. And it's open season for the rest of us.

Had some colourful conversations this weekend. One concerned our redevelopment project. The listed building that have caused such a fuss, you know the ones? The ones that have been derelict for so many years. Apparently, if they do remain they'll be knocked down eventually. It's called progress. All this fuss, apparently - will be for nothing. I'm not I..T..K..(I promise).

Also had a fellow Spurs fan say that Bellamy would be a great signing. You get the feeling nothing is going to happen until perhaps this week or next - with incomings and outgoings. Like I said, everyone is waiting for City to kick-start it. One signing will cause a knock-on effect. I don't like Bellamy. Spends too time injured, or at least that's the perception I get from him. Yes, he was stupendous at times last season for City. You get the feeling he's the type of player who would kill off the 'ickle' teams we sometimes make hard work out of. But is he a next-level player? I guess 'superstar' signings are hard to find in this day and age.

Only other news I've picked up on since browsing back on-line is Crouchie paying £800 to some hooker for sex. Honestly Peter, shop about mate, you probably only have to endure two hours of West End shopping with the missus to get it for free.

Apparently Liverpool want him back. I don't see how that would work out. Although someone is going to have to leave if we're going to boost our front line with a new addition. My money is still on Keane.

Also, the England squad. Bit of a mish-mash. Several players dropped. Perhaps because they under-performed? Or maybe Fabio wants to take a look at some new blood and has simply excluded one or two for that perhaps. Although quite how a few of them (guess) have made it back in there considering their World Cup experience...meh, who cares? Either way, it's good news for us. Last thing we need are injury concerns before the season has even started thanks to a nothing international game.

Less than a week to go now until the EPL is back. Epiphany time. Many people are sort of half knee-jerking about the new season. I'm not so sure much has changed from last season to this. If we show the same tenacity, we'll do just fine. City might be collecting players for fun, but they might find themselves in a similar position to last year. Fragmented, and thus 5th. Doesn't mean we should be dismissive of them or others. When is it ever easy? But considering what we achieved in that final month or so, I'd say we should trust more. Wear your heart on your sleeve, and just enjoy it.

The World Cup is a load of balls

The World Cup hasn't exactly been great. One or two half-memorable games, a couple of stonking goals, but it's not going to look amazing in around 10-20 years time when we look back on it. At least at the time of writing.

It would be rather comforting to blame Blatter and his obsession with having to change something fundamental about the game in the lead up to the biggest, grandest footballing tournament of them all. Every single sodding time. The Jambulani is without doubt his crowning moment of lunacy. Not that I'm completely blaming the ball for the lack of the sexy football. Although it doesn't help when half of the players out in SA struggle to weight the ball when attempting to thread it. It's got more bounce than a kangaroo on a trampoline.

But then again, many are not struggling to get to grips with it, so you can discuss and argue amongst yourselves if its down to individual ability to adapt to FIFA's Blatterisms. Nobody is really truly complaining about it any more, then again, the various football associations have probably been instructed by FIFA to make sure the correct directive is followed and nobody mentions 'the ball'. It's not the ball. What ball?

The reality is nobody can do a thing about it and it hasn't stopped some teams from smashing up other teams by making sure the only bouncing the Jambulani does is in the back of the net.

Might be wrong with this*, but the FA rejected using the Jambulani because of their contract with Nike. You'd think knowing its going to be used at the WC (the likes of Germany were using it in the Bundesliga), we'd do our best to do anything to get the players in the best condition possible, and that would have involved using the new ball in the lead up to it. But God forbid we put football ahead of money.

*If I am, let me know.

Regardless, of this, we still have the issue of the quality of football played and it's lack of tempo and excitement. Is it because there is no longer a massive gap between the nations once considered giants and the ones seen as being weak? Players cancelling each other out? Defending deep, avoiding risk? Is it now more important not to lose than it is to win? Are the super-star players scared somehow or just not as bothered, maybe even arrogant to a degree? Or are the alleged 'weak' the ones that no longer lose the game before the national anthems are finished. No more fear for the supposed giants.

It's one thing the lesser sides sitting back and defending with all their might, but if you have quality in abundance, surely you should be doing your utmost to display it? I guess we can all be sucked into believing the hype. No matter our nationality.

You could also argue about TV rights and how it controls football. Too much money in the game. Too much money for players who don't need to be anywhere near world-class to be earning untold thousands per week. No winter break in England. Tired legs. But then that's all just bollocks. Hasn't stopped one or two non-English Prem based players from impressing in SA. And some of the best players in the world, as rich as they are, continue to display unparalleled commitment to the cause - wanting and needing to impress and win.

All of the above has been carefully coated with a touch of glossy knee-jerk. The WC might just about be ready to explode with the Q-F's and the only negative thing we might remember about 2010 is when the Germans humiliated the English. Negative for some, funny for the rest.

As for England. Fabio - in the space of two games (USA and Algeria) went from having unconditional support from the red tops to apparently being tactically inept. Although the press appear to have ever so slightly backed off now (probably because the FA and Capello will not be parting any time soon) and decided that the majority of the blame should sit with the players. Specifically; Ashley Cole, Ledley King, Aaron Lennon for their lack of respect post-exit. Hmm. Let's also all forget about the truly guilty ones out on the pitch. You know, the darling buds of May. It's black and white to me.

So what of the players?

We failed in 2006, we didn't even qualify for the European Championships in 2008 and we were woeful in 2010. More or less the same group of players, with a few changes here and there. There's a pattern, I can't quite put my finger on it. Golden generation, you say?

Modern day footballers, English ones, appear to lack that edge, that drive we've seen in the past. At least when playing with 3 Lions on their shirt. This current batch appeared to have little desire to win. To want to play for their country. Whether there is any truth in the stories of a fragmented camp or not, well, I guess if there were battles between egos then that just about sums it up. Vanity before country.

Could you imagine this ever occurring in the distant past? Where is the sacrifice? Where is the honour? There is no collective. Just individuals. Football will eat itself.

Roy Keane said our so called backbone (apart from possibly two) have had distinctively average seasons. And the player we hoped would lead us to glory (Rooney, one of the two, Milner the other) has so far failed to be overly convincing on the big stage. But still, we believe. It's what we do as supporters. And it's what the media do, with their building up to knock 'em down ethics. How dare you failed, we said you wouldn't!

And when they (the players) don't quite believe in it all, then there's no great shock when they go home early. Hence the cigar smoking and beers. We are no longer wired up in the right way. Therefore, no great need to look absolutely devastated when departing the competition early. At the moment playing for country is no longer as important than playing for club. So perhaps we should be placing an equal amount of effort in supporting these players who are meant to be representing us as they do failing to represent us when playing. They appeared to be content, happy it was all over. The truth will out, maybe.

An attitude adjustment is required. That and perhaps the acknowledgement that we should play to our strengths. Honestly, Fabio, our players don't get anything other than 100% full blooded 1000mph football. We'll know when we've got our England back when we can visibly see the intensity in the players eyes and in their application on the pitch.

With regards to Harry Redknapp telling all he would accept the England job if offered it, don't fret (from a Spurs perspective). England is England and I see no harm with him saying what he said. Mainly because in no uncertain terms he knows he will never be offered the job. Sells a few papers does Harry.

Feel free to knee-jerk with me.

Roll on the Euros.

Havanagate

In the wake of the rather disgraceful photo of Ledley King and Ashley Cole (Laughgate) walking off a jet 'aving it, laughing, waving a massive banner stating 'who gives a shit, we're rich' and flashing their willies, someone has managed to grab and share a photo captured by King (he's blatantly the ring-leader in this, compensating for only having one knee I reckon) in the Hotel Marang in Rustenberg (photo snapped on his Blackberry, leaked thanks to a function that allows selected friends to share photos) of the England players sitting around, lounging, smiling and laughing (they sicken me with their constant Jokeresque grinning) along with Aaron Lennon puffing on a big fat cigar. Presumably because he's now free to return home to oversee the sale of his mansion. The mansion that you and I have paid for. To which he has shown his gratitude by aiding England's World Cup to go up in smoke. Keep on puffing on that cigar Azza. Which by the way, was lit. The cigar. Not just sitting perched in his mouth for show. The cigar was in full working order, unlike England's formation. Who the heck has ever heard of someone smoking a lit cigar? Who the hell does think he is? Smoking, a lit cigar, in a hotel? Aaron Che Guevara Lennon? And if that wasn't enough, their mentalist party also included beer, beer and ice buckets for more beer, champagne and wine. Hedonism at it's very worst. See how the table is untidy, no regard for the maids that. It's what money does to you. That's the level of respect they have for the little people.

The photo was tagged by the hapless King with the title 'Home time then holiday time'. Because the photo was taken before they left South Africa, to return to England, to then leave again no doubt for more sun and probably more kicks of a beachball than they've had of a football in the past couple of weeks. Surely the title 'Larding it up with the England massive, off our tits' would have been far more suitable commentary. Who the f*ck do they think they are anyway? Two summer holidays in one working year? WTF? Hapless indeed. I mean who sends a picture message these days and doesn't expect a dishonest friend to forward it onto the paragons of justice, the national tabloids? One knee. And half a brain. Guilty as charged.

Football is in ruins. I have never witnessed such debauchery in the wake of defeat when the expectancy was for us to win the whole damn thing. The players should have sat reflecting on their early exit, had tea and fizzy drinks, wore black suits, and quietly prayed for forgiveness.

I blame Fabio. This wouldn't have happened had he taken the job.

Laughgate

Ashley Cole and Ledley King, laughing together. Sharing a laugh and a joke. Sorry, I meant a LAUGH and a JOKE. The shame. The shame of these two uncaring millionaires more interested in champagne than football who dare to dance on our World Cup grave. Cole was awful at left-back wasn't he? Wasn't he? He hasn't exactly hogged the headlines on the pitch. And King quite obviously bottled it and refused to reappear for his country after a brief cameo. One knee? He's only got one working knee? That's how bothered he is. One knee equates to half the required commitment. He can't even be bothered to train properly the lazy git. Laughing and joking, because he was no doubt too busy trying to work out where dirty jokes originate from so he can find the perfect one to share with his partner in crime. Neither of them are comparable to the likes of Gerrard; Liverpool's engine, England's saviour.

Astonishing that the guilty two have managed to forget about the 4-1 drubbing so quickly whilst the rest of the nation continues to drown in sorrow.

I say, hung, drawn and quartered and then once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George'! And let's not fret because we can build our future on our youngsters like Andy Carroll and Theo Walcott and Micah Richards who won't let us down, who will grow  together and will be blessed with our complete support and win us the next World Cup, yes win us the next World Cup. Because it's in our blood.

Rule Britannia.

Harry for England

Nah, just f*cking with ya. What a shambles.

COYS.

The England Fallacy

There is a fallacy about the England national team based on, well, I'm not sure exactly. History I guess. The Empire, Rule Britannia, Wembley, 1966, England invented the game yadda yadda blah blah. Yet we have a tradition of being shit during the big tournaments, stumbling through and then managing in a majestic, plucky performance or two with it all finally ending in tears. But what heroes we had in defeat, right? And in amongst it, the media go loopy and the fans go into meltdown.

We live on hope, the hope that our players will all hit their potential collective best and result in winning the World Cup. How many times has that happened? Forget 66. Please. Since then we have done nothing more than live off the back of hope, citing the past as though we were deserving of more simply because of the name we carried. There is nothing wrong with this. As long as you know and understand that hope is not always enough.

It's ironic. Mainly because as a Spurs fan I wear my heart on my sleeve and have - throughout my life - wanted to see us achieve great things. This means that you tend to be a little bit over-excitable. Dreaming a little too much and too hard because you're not satisfied with just existing - you want your existence to be defined by glory. It's not being arrogant or delusional if you want something that badly. Nothing wrong at all in wanting success. And as long as you retain an air of realism with your expectations, you can saviour moments of progression and truly embrace those pockets of glory when they finally do come along. I get slated for it as a Lilywhite, yet the entire nation waves St George above their heads and no one bats an eyelid when it seems the mood of the nation is simply: we can win it (translated: we have to win it).

Regarding Spurs, it's an exact parallel to what it means to support England. The potential is there. Perhaps not exact, because England have the best players available to them (whereas Spurs splash millions on wannabes). But it's mostly botched up because of lack of belief/management and sometimes over-confidence and mis-placed confidence. Not building the team around certain players and failing to drop others for the good of the collective. And then there's the expectation. Expectations that weigh down on the fragile mental state we seem to be blessed with. We buckle. We fall. We fail. England are the perpetual wannabes. We are Spurs, stuck back in the sixites. Again, nothing wrong with looking behind us for inspiration, but once more, it's not enough.

We - everyone - fans, the media, pundits, the players; we all seem to be lost in the idea that we are world beaters rather than actually achieve something that would suggest we can be. Lesser teams have attained those giddy heights through effort and then belief that comes from overcoming diversity. Spurs kept knocking at the door, and we've finally made that step forwards, and it feels fantastic (be it we only finished 4th, but that was the step required to move onwards for us at this stage of our progression - a stage we've stood staring at for a decade +). England can play better, we do have a habit of turning up when facing our 'foes'. When perhaps we are considered the underdogs. As long as it doesn't end with penalties.

England's next step would be to not fail where we've failed before.

It's best to lower your standards. Don't expect too much. Until the the era of egos is over and a true cleansing occurs through the squad and set-up. Sorry, I'm dreaming again.

Fact is, we've never quite got our head around transitioning top club players and using them just as effectively at national level compared to their club form. Ridiculous isn't it? When we have got it right, the reason we've failed to achieve greatness is because, well, we're not great. No shame in that. We try our best, we're just not the best at that given moment. And maybe don't quite have the requirements other nations possesses in abundance that allows them to fight/muddle/luck it through. Footballing DNA can't be changed. It would seem.

England are the very definition of inconsistency. Brilliant one day, complete turd the next. Let's end the pretence that it's anything different and then act shocked and dismayed when we fail to turn up, baying for blood. Let's simply enjoy the moments when we do turn up and support them unconditionally (if you care for country in the same fashion as you do for club). And even though the truth might hurt or make you uncomfortably or simply not surprise you in the least, there's no reason not to wave those flags and wear your heart on your sleeve.

Hope, dreams. It's all good.

The agony makes the ecstasy so much sweeter.

England thrash Slovenia

That was more like it.

Slow build up, a tad nervous in the opening exchanges, but once we got going we had the right measure of tempo and conviction to get the job done. Rooney is still struggling to rediscover his game-face, but otherwise we defended well, moved through the middle with intent and our play in and around the box should have resulted in more than just that wonderfully taken Defoe goal, and winner. Wonderful movement in the box, perfect cross by Milner. The latter was decent, player instructions on key, allowing for a far more structured understanding between himself and Glen Johnson down the right.

Gerrard, purposeful and involved. Defoe, patient and sharp with the ball at his feet and unlucky not to have snatched a second. There was one or two mis-placed passes, but compared to the previous two group games, England have managed to claim some much need redemption. Terry and Upson (masterful tackle at the death) at times defending like warriors. Handanovic in-between the sticks for them, worthy of a mention too.

Lampard improved but nowhere near his Chelsea form. Milner, peach of a cross. Did he lack direction at times? Lose the ball too easily? One or two people perhaps being a tad too harsh there. Did think Barry lacked something. Was left disappointed with his overall impact. Much like Lampard, I guess their work on the field is undervalued when compared to the likes of Gerrard. Or perhaps they are just plain ordinary at the moment.

As mentioned, defence worked hard - Johnson a little dodgy at the start. Ashley Cole, top drawer. There were heart-in-mouth moments, but we survived.

Nice to see Joe Cole chucked on. Probably needs more time than a late cameo to be truly instrumental, but his substitution aided us in retaining possession towards the end with his corner flag antics. Looked a little rusty with his passing. Can't see Capello changing the midfield too much in the next game.

One questionable area is up front. And Wayne Rooney's disappointing form. Taken off, injured, but once more off-key. Regardless of his lack of spark, still wouldn't want him to be unavailable for the next match. You hope, he'll awaken soon. Had he not scuffed his shot, it might have happened today. To be fair, he wasn't awful but he was far from great. And compared to his Utd form, nowhere near the player we need for the crusade.

So, a win, confidence, belief. Mood of a nation shifts into the sunshine leaving the dark cloud behind. Was only Slovenia, right? But at least we beat them and our demons. Even Capello was excited (appy) at the final whistle, congratulating the players, all smiles. Team unity on public display for all to see. Well done. Still have to improve.

Also nice to hear actual singing over the textbook vuvuzelas. And thank you to the BBC for showing an England game that ends with an England win. ITV = cursed.

Do we need to improve further? Yes. Stick more chances away for starters. Knock-out football appears to have kick-started our World Cup. Late goal by the USA in their game against Algeria means we now play the winners of Group D. Germany.

And if we win, possibly the Argies. Happy days.

As for Sunday, we do not need any Carlsberg team talks or front page tabloids citing Churchill to inspire.

It's Germany. Just avoid the penalties.