Euro Genes
By
Mickey Blue Eyes

Nobody yet knows how the genetic dice roll. If they did, we could produce a Wayne Rooney double six every time. Fortunately I won’t be around when that boring state of affairs applies. Right now I’m happy to settle for the glorious unpredictability and spontaneity of it all. As Greavsie once said famously, it’s a funny old game. Long may it stay that way.

I never thought England V Croatia would be the walk over implied by the media or some thoughtless fans. That isn’t the way the game works. Sure enough the Croats scared the pants off us before it got settled in our favour, in the end in a canter. And The Duke starred again with another two goals – this time reinforced with the kind of support play we saw gradually evolve during our last league season.

The only change I would have made to the team would have been Ledley King in place of John Terry. The rest were surely the best team we have available. If they couldn’t succeed there wasn’t much in reserve. Despite the group points position we HAD to win to increase playing confidence.

The first five minutes looked like the Croats hadn’t bothered to turn up as we came forward and had them on the collar. Then during their first attack Becks gave away a lazy free kick wide left four metres outside our penalty box. When it came in dipping and swerving superbly neither centre back got near it, Ashley Cole tried to hook it clear left footed at our left edge of the goal area, missed, it hit his right shin and rebounded toward goal where Calam pawed it away well, Terry failed to boot it into row Z and their man steamed in and prodded it home from point blank range. Shit. Suddenly the Croats looked bigger and meaner than ever. Still, no need for panic. Not yet anyway.

Things perked up slightly when it became obvious the Croats were quite happy to retreat toward the edge of their penalty area and depend on breakaways. Occasionally they looked sharp, especially when Prso powered forward. But this enabled our midfield to interchange at will, a ploy that seemed to have them perplexed for a lot of the time. Any of the four could pop up anywhere and did. Yet despite clear advantage in territory and possession the final pass was always maddeningly misplaced or suffered an unlucky bounce. You began to think uh oh. It was all one paced pretty much the way the French played it against us. We weren’t as classy, though gradually more and more shape began to creep into our game and interpassing began to take its toll through the centre where the Croats didn’t look too solid.

Five minutes before half time just such a move finally got the break it deserved when Cole and Terry combined to set up a through ball to Frank Lampard left side about five metres inside their half. Quick as a flash he slid a stiletto of a ball through to the Hawarden Terror racing through into the left of their box. The old Michael Owen would have buried it instantly but he seems to have lost a vital half metre of pace as well some confidence. Instead he bundled into their keeper, the ball shot straight up in the air and Wayne Rooney appeared instantly from seeming nowhere and then did something which showed wisdom beyond his years. Even veteran players would have been sorely tempted to nod it towards goal to attempt a score. Instead, he nodded it sideways from left to right to where there were three other England players. It fell right onto Paul Scholes head and he glanced it home with his forehead as a Croat boot flayed into the air.

A minute before half time came one of The Duke’s specials and we were in front. Another left wing move, another left-to-right, then across and outside the edge of the penalty area, Lampard – Owen – Scholes, and then a short rolled pass to Rooney who was almost begging for the ball with outstretched arms. Unmarked, he knew exactly what he was going to do. As usual, he did it. Two strides and a solidly hit right foot cross shot swerved out ever so slightly, then dipped slightly, took a flick of the keeper’s right hand and buried gloriously in the bottom right hand corner. It is of course a deathly time to lose a goal but nobody could say either Wayne or the team didn’t deserve it. It was the culmination of a display of truly remarkable maturity for the young man. He had been everywhere, laying it off, holding it up when necessary, and going on runs that kept the Croats stretched and wary all the time. Like all great players he looks as though he has all the time in the world. And as I said when I first wrote of him, his natural ability to pace his game is one his most fearsome weapons. As the game wears on he gets even better. There isn’t much the opposition can do about it when he’s in the mood.

The first fifteen minutes of the second half mostly featured the Croats as they raced forward trying courageously to get back into a game they had to win to stay in the competition. We had a few scares during this phase but still managed one or two of our own. Then the inevitable, a breakaway and a second goal for Rooney after twenty more minutes courtesy of a wonderfully visionary Michael Owen effort. An umpteenth Croat attack foundered in midfield, Scholesy transferred it to Owen just inside their half on the left side but unfortunately underhit it and it was going behind him until he reached back and hooked it perfectly through to Rooney rampaging right through the centre, outstripping everyone and one-on-one with the ‘keeper. No sweat. He took the time to look up once before slotting it without a blink. 3-1 and Motty in the commentary box was having a fit, shouting at Joe Royle, “It’s all over now!” Joe stayed stoic with, “I’m saying nothing.” Quite right too.

Five minutes later the Croats scored again when Ashley Cole gave away one of his stupid, narky free kicks virtually on our left side goal line just outside the box. While he was telling referee Pierluigi Collina to Fuck Off You Soft Cunt, but not to his face and not loudly, it got whipped over brilliantly to our right side goal area and their man Tudor bulleted in an excellent goal. You wanted to get hold of Cole and kick his arse from now to breakfast time. It might have happened too if we hadn’t got a fourth after five minutes more.

By then Darius Vassell was on for The Duke who had gone off to ecstatic applause. As usual he was doing his own version of run-till-you-drop for England, something he hardly ever achieves for Aston Villa. Another breakaway attack – by then both sides were stretched and quite tired – down the old inside-right channel, Vassell out to Gerrard, inside to Lampard right side edge of the D, dropped shoulder right, defender falls for the dummy, jink left, temporary clear opening, left foot shot that bounced twice but easily beat their ‘keeper, and everyone in England except miserable curmudgeons was dancing happily. Ten minutes left but the Croats looked thoroughly deflated. This time it really WAS all over.

In truth it wasn’t all that good a game of quality football. The tension gave it a high edginess and apprehension of What-Comes-Next? But it was a big step forward for England at just the right time. Tellingly, the four goals we have conceded so far have come from three free kicks and a penalty. Yet it all pales into insignificance at the playing progress of Wayne Rooney. Surely true sports greatness beckons if he handles himself as well and as modestly as he does in interviews.

Enjoy him while you can, people. He is One Of Us. (22/06/04)

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