This should have been a goal-fest for England. But the soon-to-be-ex Manager Steve McClaren put a child in goal who apparently has never faced a high-speed ball heading his way before, so he ducked out of the way every time one came towards him. Jesú Ache Cristo (as we say in Spain when we want to say Jesus H fecking Christ).
It breaks my heart, really it does. We invented the game! I was nine years old the last time England did anything truly impressive in soccer (we won the World Cup, at home, in 1966, in case your memory isn't that long). Now I'm fifty. How long do I have to live until England's Association Football 'team' actually manages to deliver something?
I'm inclined to agree with the UK Sports Minister who recently said he thought a lot of 'top' players were seriously overpaid. I don't know the ins and outs of them playing for the national team - I suspect they get their travel, accommodation, personal hairdressers and food paid for, and a few quid in walking-around money. Whatever it is, they don't seem to feel any hunger.
I suppose, in a way, it's a relief. Next summer we won't have to watch England doing their usual can we/shall we/ will we/won't we SHITE. We can just watch games played by competent teams and enjoy the football they play. McClaren should never have been given this job.
But the head honchos at the FA. Well. I just don't know. They have develped a spectacular record for choosing Managers who are, at best, Not Much Good, at worst, Total Wankers. So I think the selection of the next Manager should be made by one of these:
a) Some chickens
b) Me
c) Six cuttlefish
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
