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England are baffling, flawed, unexplainable

ARENA AUFSCHALKE — England’s players go towards the largest concentration of their support and they are cheered, not booed. Gareth Southgate heads there next, surely a little sheepish after last week and the last two hours; he is treated as a hero. This is proof of one of two things: either Sweet Caroline contains hypnotic magic within its lyrics and melody or it really doesn’t matter how you perform if you win.

Analysis? You want an analysis of that? England are baffling and flawed and frustrating and imbalanced and ultimately unexplainable because they are still in Euro 2024. At least we can delete our career obituaries of the man in charge after this 2-1 victory over Slovakia. The faintest pulse is enough to prove life and while you are still alive nothing else registers.

If strength being gleaned through adversity is not a myth, England are in rude health. It would scarcely be possible to edge closer towards the precipice, to offer fewer signs of their major tournament capabilities, and still retain a chance of winning it. They were wretched until they weren’t and the first part lasted 98 per cent longer than the second.

The saving moment at least was wondrous, one of those that you will watch back in one, five and 10 years from now and still remember your dejection before it and ecstasy afterwards. Was Jude Bellingham lucky to still be on the pitch after a wholly dreadful performance? Yes. Is there anyone else in this team who seems so capable of dragging narrative towards him as if it were weightless? No.

We saw the worst of Southgate’s England; all of it. For almost all of normal time this was one of those grainy 1990s VHSs of calamity and despair that dared you to laugh, so parodic was their performance – Gareth Southgate’s own goals and gaffes.

It started in possession, where England were painfully slow. During the tournament, their typical method of building attacking play has been to pass the ball slowly across defence, at one point or another returning it to Jordan Pickford. Pickford then knocks the ball long to either of two noted target men Bukayo Saka or Phil Foden.

What happened next will shock you: England struggled to create chances from these long balls and longer spells of sterile possession. They had two shots on target in 132 minutes of football and they scored them both. Kings of efficiency? Good luck trying that angle with your mates and work colleagues this week. They floated cross after cross into the box and looked shocked when all were cleared.

Of greater frustration was the inability to shift the game off its seemingly inevitable axis. One of the most eminent criticisms of Southgate is his conservative use of substitutes, but this felt like inertia to the point of negligence. England made one change before Slovakia had made four. It was begging for something different and white shirts simply did the same thing on repeat.

Ready for the punchline? England used those same flaws, those same maddening indecipherables, to win the tie. Those interminable crosses that did nothing? They scored from two crosses. That luxury midfielder who had looked haunted since the first half of the first game? He scored. The captain and striker who barely had a touch? Him too. As for the lack of substitutes, England suddenly had greater options and energy to win the game in extra-time, and the changes Southgate did make worked well. No wonder everybody has a headache.

There is a tendency to make all this come full circle. Squeeze through in the dying seconds, despite yourself rather than because, and fate becomes subconsciously dragged towards you. We’ve all been there before: it’s been so bad that we’ll probably win the thing now. England can at least brand themselves as the team that never knows it is beaten and never looks capable of winning well.

That is the only viable conclusion, the deep mystery of all this. England are the cohesive group of friendly, talented players with the long-serving manager who spend the majority of their matches appearing as if they have never met. We ache when watching them and then ache as soon as the game has finished in anticipation of how they might extricate themselves from the self-created crisis. Same time next Saturday, then?


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