There are places I’ll remember all my life from following the England men’s football team to major tournaments. Some are capital cities teeming with culture, one is an outpost on the edge of the Highveld, one is at the heart of the Ruhr, one is on the Cote d’Azur. I remember them for my friends and the camaraderie we shared but I remember them, too, for the way they ended for England. And they never ended well.
For those who seem puzzled or even amused by the outpouring of emotion that accompanied England’s victory over Denmark on Wednesday night, a victory that took the country to its first major final for 55 years, they could do worse than retrace England’s path as they have criss-crossed the globe this last quarter of a century in search of something they lost.
There is a line that runs from England’s Euros semi-final at Wembley in 1996 to the Euro 2020 final this evening. It is a jagged trail littered with the accoutrements of broken dreams: red cards, missed penalties, riot police, broken metatarsals, players hung in effigy from a gibbet outside a pub. We have made fear and self-loathing our faithful friends. That is why this catharsis feels so powerful.
England are just one step away from claiming their first major trophy in 55 years
Victory against Italy could end a jagged trail littered with broken dreams since 1996
There is blood on the tracks that lead from St Etienne in 1998 on to Charleroi in 2000 and on to Shizuoka in 2002 and on to Lisbon in 2004 and on to Gelsenkirchen in 2006 and on to Bloemfontein in 2010 and on to Kiev in 2012 and on to Sao Paulo in 2014 and on to Nice in 2016 and on to Moscow in 2018, the fourth straight tournament semi-final England had lost.
I went to all England’s games at Euro 96 because I was ghost-writing a column for Sir Bobby Robson, which remains one of the great privileges of my working life, so I was there when Gareth Southgate missed that penalty and embarked on the journey towards a redemption that some of us never felt he needed to earn but which could yet come to a glorious end against Italy this evening.
I remember 1998 when the imagery of pain and violence and impotence associated with following England first struck home. I remember walking into the lobby of the Sofitel near the old port in Marseille with a few colleagues to find the then FA chief executive, Graham Kelly, to talk about the English hooliganism defacing the tournament. He was in the bar, smoking a cigar, gazing out of big picture windows at Marseille burning.
The story could come full circle from the start point of England's semi-final defeat in 1996
I remember Glenn Hoddle doing his best to take us into his confidence in La Manga, explaining why he had had to leave out Paul Gascoigne. ‘Come on, lads,’ he began. It was his first and last attempt at taking us into his confidence. A tournament that had begun with Gazza smashing up Hoddle’s hotel room, with Kenny G for background noise, ended with defeat by Argentina on penalties in the second round.
David Batty, who missed the decisive penalty, had never taken a spot-kick before. David Beckham, who had been sent off for flicking out a foot at Diego Simeone, was hung in effigy from a gibbet outside The Pleasant Pheasant, a pub in south London.
I remember Euro 2000, walking around the Place Charles II in the centre of Charleroi where English hooligans had hurled chairs and tables the day before and going into the Eglise Saint-Christophe. I remember looking at the visitors’ book. ‘I am sorry for what has happened to your city,’ a fan had written in it. ‘We are not all like that.’ I remember Phil Neville being made that year’s scapegoat.
I remember catching the Bullet Train to Shizuoka, an hour outside Tokyo, in 2002, and watching Ronaldinho’s free-kick sail over David Seaman’s head to consign England to defeat in the World Cup quarter-final.
Since then tournaments have come to an end on the back of red cards and penalty defeats
I remember a couple of my friends booing the England goalkeeper when he walked into the mixed zone. No matter, we told ourselves, there was still plenty of time for the Golden Generation to have its moment. No shame in losing to Brazil. This was just one tournament too early.
It was always a tournament too early. I remember 2004 and the excitement of watching Wayne Rooney burst on to the scene like our avenging angel. This was the one. England had momentum. I remember
