Never in living memory – my living memory that is – have I been so thoroughly unconcerned by yet another England World Cup sob story.  The first World Cup that registered for me was Italia ’90 (Wolfie years work in strange ways).  Even in those days when I was probably, let’s face it, more interested in custard than football, I recall the withdrawal pangs as another team crashed out in (semi-)glory.  Remember all those ifs, buts, almosts, and ALL those penalties?  This was nothing like that.  Despite a truly terrible decision not to award Lampard’s goal, I suspect that the nature of the rest of the game means that even we won’t have the energy to drag this particular ‘robbery’ out for the next 20 years.

Why so different this time?  Partly, of course, the team’s performance never reached any peak of enthusiasm or expectation for the fans to reflect back to the team.  The England players never really looked like fulfilling any of their apparent promise or giving anyone anything positive to shout about.  But more than that, there wasn’t a player out there who didn’t look exactly like the overpaid, overpraised, vacuous primadonnas we all suspect them to be.  There’s aren’t many outside the Premier League payroll who would argue anyone is worth the sums these players bring home, but perhaps I would have forgotten that for a while if they’d at least tried to look half worth it.  As it is, I feel less empathy or warmth for this team than any England team before.  They don’t feel like any part of my England.

Let’s not fall into the trap of blaming it all on Capello.  His tactics were remarkably inappropriate and he seems to have failed to keep the confidence of the whining boys he was paid a grand sum to manage, but he can only be half responsible for perfectly good players playing like fools when out of their club shirts.

Capello should go, but the team needs a massive shake-up, shakedown, and a bit of a slap too.  England look today very much like Wolves did at the end of Glen Hoddle’s final season – a baggy bunch of mercenaries who would rather be elsewhere.  What they need is, I won’t say Mick McCarthy, but someone like him; willing to insist on a bit of grit and graft alongside silky skills from England’s finest, and willing to put a few fine noses out of joint and bring through the youngsters who will have to be England’s future now the ‘Golden Generation’ have reached their sell-by date.

Much as I dislike Dirty ‘Arry, he wants the job, and he could be the man to make a difference for England.

And now until that happens it’s time to forget about them.  After today, it’s time to focus on Wolves, who have had a much more successful summer already than the national team.  While the national team are failing and the rest of the Premier League are feeling the pinch, Wolves look to have pulled off some top signings before pre-season even gets underway.  When did that last happen?

Wolfie almost shaking with anticipation

It’s a very big day for me today.  It’s the first day of the football season.  Plymouth vs. Wolves.  AND it’s my birthday!  And I’ve got a lovely new shirt (story to follow), as you can see in this recently released publicity shot of me.  Don’t I look chic!  To clear up one point, rumour seems to have got out about it being my birthday, and a few people have written to me to ask if I mind them sending presents, good wishes etc.  I would like to say that I do understand how much it can mean to be able to send even a small token of appreciation to one you admire, so please, don’t feel worried if you do want to send me anything to mark the day.

As to the football, unfortunately other commitments mean I can’t be there today, but I will be keeping an eye on the score and will post my thoughts for you later.  I hope to be able to get to a game very soon and bring you a first hand report.  Come on you Wolves!