Hodgson, eh? That wizened old mucker? With a more impressive CV than all the other obvious candidates combined – err, Redknapp, what have you actually won? – it’s a wonder that this is being construed by some as a surprising choice. Sir Woy is being haunted by those mean buggers on Merseyside; should’ve stayed at Fulham Roy, where your funny mole-like face was loved and your common sense press conferences were roundly applauded. Unfortunately everyone in England now remembers your apparent failure at Liverpool and yeah, it wasn’t great, but it’s the only scruffy patch on an otherwise pristine career.
The Telegraph sum up Hodgson’s appeal nicely: “He has managed in eight different countries, has hands-on experience of international tournaments, speaks five languages and is widely regarded among the most outstanding technical coaches in Europe.” You might’ve missed that in there: he has pedigree at international level. A more experienced man for the job you won’t find.
But I’m not writing about whether Hodgson is going to take us delusional Englishmen to Euro 2012 glory (he won’t, obviously). I’m writing to say we should stop being delusional about these things. Have you seen Spain, the Netherlands or Germany play recently? If you want an appropriate tennis analogy (although why would you? It’s fucking tennis), the best, the very best we can hope for is a valiant attempt and an Andy Murray-esque fourth-placed slinking away when no one’s looking. Even that’s unlikely. We’ll be scrapping away with the likes of France and Portugal trying to be “best of the rest” and we’ll probably bow out at the quarters.
Guys (and you beautiful ladies who love the beautiful game), we need to accept that the quarter finals is a good run for us. We should drink in celebration after losing to Germany at that stage, not drink in disappointment. For now though, let’s just raise a glass to Sir Roy Hodgson and say, “Good luck, mate. You need it!”
In Before the Cynicism 