DOUBTING THOMAS
They say never go that far back. In the last half an hour of their end-of-days Geopolitics World Cup semi-final with Argentina, England committed to the bit in the Deep South. No wonder there were gaps. Thomas Tuchel stood and watched national trauma unfold in front of his eyes as towering aerial threats such as Alexis Mac Allister and Lautaro Martínez beat his four centre-backs to cross after cross. Forget the ghosts of ‘66, the spectre of Southgate loomed over his successor as realism reared its ugly head at the business end of an England men’s major-tournament run once again.

“I don’t believe so much in an English thing and a curse or whatever,” Tuchel sniffed after the 2-1 defeat. “It’s repeating itself in different moments. It’s different coaches, different players, different situations.” Which sounds quite like an English thing. But glorious failure comes naturally to the Three Lions. After averting disaster against DR Congo, storming the Azteca and taming Erling Haaland, there is only so far a narrative can take you. When Enzo Fernández (world champion, £100m-plus player) and Lautaro Martínez (world champion, three-time Serie A winner) stick a couple past Jordan Pickford (zero Bigger Cup appearances) and you chuck Big Dan Burn (former Asda employee) and Ivan Toney (six-time League One loanee) up front to try to rescue things, maybe it’s time to accept your limitations.

Argentina started the game in full villain mode, like a deluxe Paraguay, producing more ‘housery in the opening half an hour than Diego Simeone’s Atlético had in a decade. Fifa’s TV directors no doubt knew what they were doing when cutting to David Beckham, always watching, after another niggly foul committed by Giuliano Simeone, whose life’s destiny seemed to be clipping the ankles of Djed Spence. Elliot Anderson spent those first 30 minutes being kicked from pillar to post, knowing that as soon as he bumped into Lionel Messi, like standing up to a rough older sibling, he’d be punished. Football Daily will put this Argentina display behind a special red cordon in our gallery of the dark arts.
When Anthony Gordon touched in Morgan Rogers’ cross, his new club [checks notes] – Barcelona [checks notes again] – posted a video of the winger in the Camp Nou dressing room, saying: “Hi, I’m Anthony Gordon, and if you’re watching this, I’ve just scored at the World Cup.” A bit like he was recording a tape for his will. Maybe their social media disgrace team would have expected to use that video of their £70m, £300,000-a-week signing more than once. Then again, with a bronze-medal match to come, maybe they will. Either way, Gordon was hooked for Ezri Konsa on 72 minutes and England began their desperate descent into their own penalty area. “There was blood in the water and we went for it,” smirked Lionel Scaloni, whose side have three days to prepare for a final against a Spain team frantically ordering sturdier shinpads. As for England, they have the pleasure of now facing France, for whom Kylian Mbappé will no doubt have his eye on the Golden Boot. There’s a silver lining somewhere.
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QUOTE OF THE DAY
“I would just say, the World Cup might not be ours, but the Falkland Islands definitely are. Our position is unchanged. Self-determination rests with the islanders, and our commitment to the Falklands will never waver. More broadly, potential action is a matter for Fifa, but it’s been a fantastic World Cup, and we’ve said throughout that politics should stay out of football” – Keir Starmer’s spokesperson says the PM supports the idea of Fifa investigating Argentina players who displayed a banner touting their nation’s claims to the Falklands. Asked who Starmer would be supporting in the final, the spokesperson added: “The PM wishes both teams well for the final, especially Spain.” As for Lisandro Martínez, one of those waving it, he explained: “I can picture a Malvinas veteran seeing that and weeping. I don’t know if there might be sanctions or not, but what they did was display that banner and assert that the islands belong to us.”

Thomas Tuchel’s teenage years being filled with crepuscular ice cream sounds delightful (yesterday’s News, Bits and Bobs, full email edition). Right now, he might feel more at home in mine: paralytic drunk on cheap vodka, crying into rain-soaked bitumen about the injustice of the world. Good times” – Rowan Sweeney.
Re: naming the 2030 World Cup (Football Daily letters passim). Surely simplicity is best: N64WC. The controller of that console being as easy to wield as the competition itself” – Donald Larmour.
If you have any, please send letters to [email protected]. Today’s prizeless letter o’ the day goes to … Rowan Sweeney. Terms and conditions for our competitions, when we run them, are here.
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