How do you unstick Springsteen?

Leaning back on the bench, watching Dex and Edson hitting some rallies, chat with Stephen turned inevitably to the pantomime of England v Algeria. Stephen’s a bit of an expert—he knows lots of terms and what they mean, so I took the opportunity to probe him for an answer to the question that’s been niggling since Friday night.

“I don’t mean to over-simplify, but I didn’t really notice England players passing the ball to each other. And I don’t mean that a few passes went astray. I mean they either kicked the ball away like some leprous turd, or just hoofed it in the general direction of the Algerian goalkeeper. In my mind, there’s this kind of assumption that in football, to build up the play, develop the position, er, make chances, the thing to do is to work the ball forward so that it eventually reaches someone who can put it in the net. And the way this is normally done is to find a player wearing the same shirt, preferably one who’s in a position to receive the ball and then hopefully also to find someone else to send it on to, and, er, pass it to him. And if you do this methodically, and patiently, you create a situation where (a) the opposition don’t get the ball very much, which is what they call possession and (b) you keep some sort of shape to the team so that if you do lose the ball you’re well-placed to retrieve it or make some kind of defensive manoeuvre or something. And anyway, if you keep the ball long enough, you stand a good chance of scoring eventually. I guess if I were to coach a bunch of nine-year-olds, I think this is where I would start. That and keeping people in position rather than everyone chasing the ball, so that you don’t get a really congested midfield and so that you can use the width of the pitch. These seem to be basics. Is it just that these England players are playing at such a high level that the basics don’t apply? Is there a strategy, some sort of technique, so advanced that it’s invisible to anyone not intimately familiar with top-level football?”

It was a long question, it’s true. Long enough to see Stephen’s face change from an expression of light amusement at my sarcasm, to a gradual realisation that despite my reputation for levity and cynicism, this was a serious, earnest question from someone so confused, so untutored in the ways of football that it was simply an honest observation.

He thought for a little while, frowning and chewing his lower lip slightly.

“That’s a good point,” he began “but I think it’s even simpler than that. I think they were just frightened out of their wits to play football.”

He continued. He painted a picture of a group of young men who know nothing outside of football, who are so pressured, and so isolated, that they have no one to advise them except a bunch of slightly older men who are likewise pressured and isolated. Watching Dex play the other day, I noticed he was standing way in front of the baseline. We did a little drill where I made him stand six feet behind the line, only coming in if he needed to. Standing so far forward he was in no position to play a deep ball, reduced either to playing soft mid-court volleys or else those cheap and nasty slices that I learnt to play when I was stranded because I never stood behind the base line. We hit a few balls like that, nice and deep, and eventually it came back to him. He had strayed. In his mind and in his feet he had strayed, and although he had been taught right at the beginning of his tennis to stand far enough back, it hadn’t been revisited despite seven years of coaching since. A little light went on.

It occurred to me that in their club teams, these England players have generally become so integrated into a pattern on play that they don’t even have to think about basics. Taken out of their comfort zone, cajoled into readjustment, retuned to a new interpretation of the game, another system, was just too much. The problem, like everything else, is the fear of failure getting in the way of the courage to win. So what’s the secret to success?

I’m not a big fan of Bruce Springsteen. I always felt he had negotiated a great position in the market and had produced songs that were tailor-made for the anti-establishment working class flag-waving that only works in the States. And fame and fortune are the measure of his success, so he continued to do it for years. Maybe he eventually felt he had a responsibility as spokesman for his generation. So what am I saying here? Er, maybe he didn’t need to develop as an artist. Maybe in fact I just don’t know his stuff well enough, and actually he’s constantly reinventing himself. Maybe he’s breaking new ground the whole time. But maybe he became surrounded by people who told him what they thought he wanted to hear, and he got stuck. How do you move on from that? How do you unstick Springsteen?

England have two days to do it in. Brilliantly, John Terry decided to hold a press conference. The ex-captain, stripped of his rank for fornicating with a team-mate’s wife, now tells the world’s media that there are issues, and that the manager has to listen, and that Joe Cole is the only player who can make a difference. Capello hasn’t played Cole in the first two games, and is famous for sticking to his guns. And, turns out, Terry is not speaking for his team-mates. It’s his own little attempt to re-establish a bit of authority. Jesus. Not a good start.

And for the record I would, under the circumstances, like to see England get utterly stuffed by Slovenia, with Rooney sent off for swearing at the ref. Or what about England winning 5-0 with Rooney scoring a hat-trick? Well that would be fine too.