The Morning After The Night Before

Balotelli's strenuous training regime was really
England's downfall.

Despite there being that terrifying moment of ‘logic’ that the expectations of a nation were so low that they had some how torn the space time continuum and actually turned into expectation again - we all know that at the end of the day, this was never going to be ‘the’ year for England. Comparing that rag-tag bunch of misfits to that of another team that happened to win the Champions League this year is too easy - and far too off the mark to be a viable comparison. There have been a number of questions about Chelsea’s season this past year - the answer was never to be found in Jordan Henderson.

Surely the ‘expectations were so low that England can succeed logic’ was the most ridiculous thing said about the England team? Right? RIGHT? No. Enter Mark Lawrenson. How this man gets paid to speak about anything, let alone football is beyond me. But telling a nation, unironically, that their best defender was a man who scored for Sweden after keeping everyone onside was really my Lawro-light of the tournament so far.

Yet, despite myself, I went into last night confident that England could and would in fact go out against Germany. How confident was I? Well, I was brimming with such confidence that I chose to be the other white meat in an Italian sandwich. It makes me slightly wistful for the first 15 minutes of last night’s match, when I smugly thought this may have been one of my best ideas to date. But as the clock ticked on I was reminded that I was still watching the same England that I always have done. Even one without promise, still came with promise. 

The Sun is Shining - Safe for One John Terry to take a Penalty

Gunnersaurus -knows- he's better than Koscielny... begs
to play. He doesn't want to be the Michael Owen
of mascots

Well, in all of Sky’s infinite wisdom they opted Liverpool’s trip to Brighton in the third round of this year’s Cup that doesn’t matter unless you’re actually in the final or Arsenal the ever prestigious Carling Cup. Although at this late stage i.e. well after the matches are done and over analyzed to within an inch of their little lives - you know that unless you were in a stadium somewhere, you probably didn’t get to see your club.

So, I’ll make it my responsibility to help out the Chelsea and Fulham supporters alike who didn’t get to the Bridge - or some dodgy internet feed to see the match. Spoiler alert: it went to penalties.

This of course means that the match must have been a ridiculously close affair. At least that’s what I’ve been told by a number of people who:

1. support other clubs
2. were not at the Bridge
3. did not even see the match
4. probably did not look at a match report
5. drink heavily*

Really they’re like a gossipy bunch of nans. No one has seen it, but everyone has an opinion on the matter that they will share with anyone stuck within earshot and they smell of gin.

Now, before I enlighten you annoy you with my waffling on about Chelsea's play, I will say that Jol has made a world of difference to Fulham. I mean, their supporters are all *hard* now with rumours of them invading the Bridge with balloons and confetti at hand (yes - I do in fact believe everything I read on twitter). There was in fact 3 balloons floating around the Shed End in the first half. So, it was nice that each of their supporters did in fact bring one. Towards the end, there was in fact more stewards protecting the Shed End banner that ‘mysteriously’ was up in their end than in the entire rest of their section. Good to know the stewards do have their priorities straight.

On with the match. Open end to end play, although, how Chelsea failed to score in the first 45 minutes let alone the remaining 120 is beyond me. Fantastic outings from McEachran (not surprising at all) and Romeu who arguably was man of the match for me. Alex pulled a bit of a naughty early in the second half so will now only be appearing in the CL for the next little while.

Once the game reached extra time it was clear that Fulham was playing for penalties. Fair play to them. When anyone plays a team that’s won ONCE in twelve years and have one of the post infamous penalty takes in a final ever, it’s an ingenious move. Not only that, but with Cech sustaining injury they’d get to take their penalties against Ross Turnbull. I’d basically have fancied my own chances out there.

To say there was a bit of tension in the air is akin to saying that Andy Reid kind of likes pie and mash and battered sausages and... oh, nevermind. You get the picture - collective held breath, squeaky bum, and all that bollocks. I’d like to tell you I was positive, but with Cech out and our penalty man stepping up and immediately having his saved - well, in that moment I was just happy to be their but fully resigned to the inevitable outcome. But I’m big enough to admit when I’m wrong. I mean, it happens so little** I don’t mind a moment of eating humble pie.

$^&%&^ gah....sorry readers, it appears that Andy Reid thought I had actual pie and interrupted me here.....

....back to me being wrong...although, my man of the match was easily Romeu, despite some more brilliant play from David Luiz both on the pitch and to the crowd - biggest surprise of the night was not John Terry’s brilliant penalty take (thank YOU weather) - but one Ross Turnbull.

Dear Ross,

We’ve definitely had our ups and downs. It all started so well for the two of us. I mean, when you were Boro’s number one, you were in fact my number one. Yes, before Joe Hart became Grenade Free FC’s number one in Fantasy Football, you in fact lead my team to top of the table. And for that, I was grateful - even pleased you turned fantasy football into reality by heading down to London town to fill the gaping hole left by Carlo Cudicini (clearly in football terms as Cech’s backup alone).

Things definitely took a turn for the worse. I suppose we made you a bit nervous. You lost control of the box and were found off your line more times than John has been caught by Toni. I realise I should have had more faith in you. I reverted to childish name calling (but let’s be honest - Turnbollocks is quite funny).

Yes. I may or may not have threatened to walk out at kick off if you were starting when I saw you warming up. But tensions were high enough. Anything crossed near you makes me feel a little funny - and I don’t mean that in a good way. I even had to take a little seat when you started to warm up for injured big Pete. 

Even after you came up with some brilliant reflex saves that got us through to the penalties, I still had no faith in you. You proved me wrong. Not only were your saves great, but to come up with a save in the shoot out was absolutely brilliant.

So, let’s make up. I’ll not threaten to walk out and I’ll stop covering my eyes when the ball gets into our end if you stay on your line. Deal?

JB

Now for the REAL letter:

Dear Crossbar,

Thanks for being awesome on Wednesday night. Both of your penalty saves were some of the best I’ve seen and I thank you for getting Chelsea through to the next round.

Love always (unless you leave us like that tart Own Goal did)

jb xx

Also, a belated congratulations to Arsenal on becoming Blackburn’s highest scorer this season and to Owen Hargreaves for not tearing his hamstring when he was tying his laces up for Manchester United City. 

And with a brace against the mighty Leeds, apparently, Michael Owen has put himself in the frame according to those gossipy nans football ‘experts’ for an England recall. So his club manager, you know that guy, the one that sees him every day in training, hasn’t felt he’s up to snuff to start against the likes of West Brom - what does he know? This should be the man leading our country on to Euro Glory.....

Roll on the next round and the weekend!

jb xx

* ok, maybe that last one was me - but the other points do all still stand.

** sshhh....let me just have it this time