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England’s new order looks like the old order and the one before that England’s new order looks like the old order and the one before that
(about 2 hours later)
Welcome, then, to the new England order. Which looks, on the face of it, quite a lot like the old England order. Not to mention the one before that too. This was widely trailed as the start of a fresh cycle, a time of first things and new starts. And yet England’s 1-0 victory here felt throughout like something rather more familiar, from the awkward, angular early exchanges, that sense of England’s players struggling to control a ball that simply wants to bounce too much; to the reversion to a depressingly rigid meat-and-potatoes formation that leant the whole evening a peculiarly dank retro air; right down to the tiny little speckling of moribund fizz, of talents unexpressed, that decorated an otherwise lumpen night of second-rate international football at a Wembley Stadium wreathed in a predictable fug of post-World Cup ennui. Welcome, then, to the new England order. Which looks, on the face of it, quite a lot like the old England order. This friendly international had been trailed in the match programme as the start of “a new journey”, a moment of fresh starts and new cycles and general youthful evolution. And yet England’s 1-0 victory here felt like something more painfully familiar, from the awkward, angular early exchanges, that sense of England’s players struggling always to control a ball that simply wants to bounce too much; right down to the tiny speckles of moribund hope, of talent unexpressed and potential unexplored, that decorated a night of second-rate international football at a stadium wreathed in a predictable fug of post-World Cup ennui.
On nights like these pointing out England’s failings always feels a bit like pummelling the rib cage of a broken man. Indeed, as underpowered sporting occasions go this post-tournament belch of an autumn friendly always looked like a bit of a gimme. And yet such is England’s capacity to sink to the occasion right now that it was still possible to feel a little startled by the general stodginess of a performance of lumpen but willing intent from an England team lassoed for the occasion into a depressing reprise of rigid old 4-4-2. On nights like these poring over England’s failings always feels a bit like pummelling the rib cage of a broken man. Indeed, as underpowered sporting occasions go this post-tournament belch of an autumn friendly always looked like a gimme. And yet such is England’s capacity to sink to the occasion right now that it was still possible to feel a little startled by the stodginess of a performance of lumpen but willing intent from a team lassoed for the occasion into a depressingly rigid meat-and-potatoes 4-4-2 that leant the whole evening a peculiarly dank, retro air.
More interesting, perhaps, not to mention more challenging, to search for flickers of hope in among the beeps and gurgles and pings of the life support machines. For England there were two bright spots on one of the most enervated international nights in recent memory. Specifically Raheem Sterling – clamped to the left wing in defiance of all evidence of his attacking fluency, and indeed the basic tenets of modern football – and Daniel Sturridge, a mobile and nimble-footed presence at the point of England’s attack. Sterling it was who made the goal that settled the game, drawing a foul inside the Norwegian area with another fine, upright, scuttling surge. The penalty kick was expertly converted by Wayne Rooney, who scarcely had to move from his position clamped at the central edge of the penalty area to take it. It is, of course, much more challenging to search for glimmers of hope in among the beeps and pings of the life-support machines. For England there was one obvious bright spot and a few supporting flickers. Raheem Sterling, stationed on the left wing in defiance of all evidence of his attacking fluency, was an obvious man of the match and made the goal that settled the game, drawing a foul inside the Norway area with another fine, upright, scuttling surge. The penalty kick was expertly converted by Wayne Rooney, who scarcely had to move from his customary position clamped at the central edge of the penalty area to take it.
Otherwise if there grounds for hope they were simply that this was at least a relatively new England team out there playing like the same old England team. Hodgson made the only move he could make here, opting for the most callow lineup for a semi-serious international in recent memory. Only John Stones, pictured right, Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain and Raheem Sterling of the starting XI were genuine tyros, but this was still a team with seven players aged 25 or under sent out to confront a dogged but third rate Norwegian team. What youthfulness! What brio! What stifling tactical rigidity! Daniel Sturridge was a nimble-footed presence at the point of England’s attack. John Stones had a decent game at right-back. Otherwise if there were grounds for hope they were simply that this was at least a relatively new England team out there playing like the same old England team as Hodgson picked seven players aged 25 or under. What youthfulness! What brio! What stifling tactical rigidity!
Indeed England were almost alarmingly muted at times in the first half. Back and forth. Back. And forth. And back again. Watching the lateral movements of that four-square midfield there was a danger some in the crowd might have been lulled to sleep like deck hands in a hammock. There is above all a sense of trapped energy about all this. The modern full-back is a wonderfully potent force at times, just as the footballing world is currently rife with roving attacking midfielders. These are the riches of the age. And yet in this suffocating truss of a formation England are denied access to any of this, the full-backs running a straight line back and forth across halfway, and only Sterling’s natural adventure drawing him inside into areas he can be most effective Indeed England were almost alarmingly muted at times in the first half. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back again. Forth again. Watching the lateral movements of England’s four-square midfield there was a danger some in the crowd might have been lulled to sleep like deck hands in hammocks. There is above all a sense of trapped energy about all this. The modern full-back is a wonderfully potent force at times, just as the footballing world is currently rife with roving attacking midfielders. And yet in this suffocating truss of a formation England are denied access to any of this, the full-backs running a straight line around halfway and only Sterling’s natural adventure drawing him inside into areas he can be most effective
It is baffling that anybody who saw Sterling’s contribution from the tip of the attacking diamond in Liverpool’s win at White Hart Lane would want to isolate him on the left wing (other than the obvious need to not just accommodate but to placate Wayne Rooney). Here is a player with a rare combination of vision, touch and heartening physical strength, in evidence as early as the third minute as Sterling killed a high pass out of defence, accelerated, jinked inside and was tripped in roughly the area of the pitch he should be spending most of his time, the in-between areas where a true No10 can inflict so much pain. It is baffling that anybody who saw Sterling’s contribution from the tip of the attacking diamond in Liverpool’s win at White Hart Lane on Sunday would want to isolate him on the left wing, beyond the obvious need to accommodate Rooney in his own preferred role. And indeed at times there seemed to be two England teams playing simultaneously: the one with Sterling and Sturridge and (in glimpses) Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain in it, all fleet-footed, if slightly ragged, attacking ambition. And then the rest, pegged out in those familiar straight lines, with Rooney not just immobile but strangely deathly in that muted No10 role, the clogged artery at the heart of this England team.
And indeed at times there seemed to be two England teams playing simultaneously: the one with Sterling, Sturridge and Oxlade-Chamberlain in it, all fleet-footed if at times slightly ragged attacking ambition; and the rest, pegged out in those familiar ceremonial straight lines. There will be much debate about systems, more specifically the one Hodgson reverted to here, abandoning the 4-2-3-1 seized on before the World Cup like a middle-aged man desperately squeezing himself into the nearest pair of tactical skinny jeans. And yet it would be wrong to fixate on formations. Not only is 4-4-2 itself experiencing a cautious revival (Atlético Madrid won La Liga with a high-energy variation last season), but as many sage judges have pointed out, international football is less about systems as about players in the end, the indivisible base metal that your system provides.
There will of course be much debate about systems, more specifically the one Hodgson reverted to here after the 4-2-3-1 England’s manager seized on before the World Cup like a middle-aged man squeezing himself into the nearest pair of tactical skinny jeans. With this in mind, if there were some tempting parallels to be drawn between the presence of Norway at Wembley and the travails of Graham Taylor and the team that could not “knock it” 21 years ago, there is undoubtedly a broader sense of pessimism now. Even in the throes of that doomed World Cup qualifying campaign under Taylor there was still some vague hope then that the newly booming Premier League would eventually provide, that English football’s grand schematic makeover would involve spending just a moment or two ironing out the knots in the England team.
And yet it would be wrong to fixate on formations – not only is 4-4-2 itself experiencing a cautious retro-cool revival (Atlético Madrid took the La Liga title with a high energy variation last season), but as many sage judges have pointed out, international football is less about systems per se as about players, the indivisible base metal that your system provides. And yet quite the opposite has happened. The success of the Premier League has brought with it a profound developmental strangulation of young English talent. The players were willing, as ever, at Wembley, and some belated relief arrived late on in the final post-Rooney minutes when that portable pall of gloom seemed to lift a little. Rooney will be comforted by having scored his 41st England goal on his captaincy debut. But England were undeniably more fluid, as they were against Italy in Manaus, with Sterling in that central role and two quick mobile forwards ahead of him.
If there were of course some tempting parallels to be drawn between the presence of Norway at Wembley and the travails of Graham Taylor and the team in Oslo 21 years ago, there is undoubtedly a greater sense of pessimism now. Not that this matters particularly. Hodgson will not drop his captain for the Euro 2016 qualifier against Switzerland in Basel on Monday. And while there will be frustration at the restraints imposed by some overly linear tactics, the greater sense of waste lies in the evidence here and in Brazil of a shallow, and strangely unassertive pool of talent.
Even in the throes of a doomed World Cup qualifying campaign 20 years ago there was still hope then that the newly booming Premier League would provide eventually, that English football’s grand schematic makeover would surely involve spending just a moment or two finally ironing out the knots in the England team. And yet quite the opposite has happened, the success of the rootless, deregulated utterly global Premier League bringing with it a profound developmental strangulation of young English talent. And of another new era dawning, once again, with a familiarly muted thud.
England’s players were willing, as ever at Wembley, and there will be frustration at the restraints imposed on their attacking talents by some overly linear tactics. But the greater sense of waste lies in the evidence here and at the World Cup of a shallow, and strangely unassertive pool of talent; and of another new era dawning, once again, with a familiarly muted thud.