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Germany 4-1 England. It was an escape from victory not Escape To Victory, a bust rather than Dambusters.
 
And soon after a stampede of familiar moans charged across the horizon:
 

•   “It was because we have a foreign manager” (forgetting how the last English manager performed)
• “They are overpaid” (forgetting how well the players did for their clubs)
• “We need a manager like Maradona” (I thought Capello’s appointment was needed to add discipline; to tame the wild English style)

It is interesting that we compare England to Italy, Germany and France (“they would never employ a foreign manager”) when in reality there is no comparison. England are miles behind.
 
 Of them all, Rooney confused me the most. I’ve never seen him play that poorly. He was a Bruce Banner who couldn’t turn green, a Clark Kent so glum and listless that he couldn’t even be bothered to look for a phone box. For a player so used to harrying and dazzling opponents, he was unbelievably off form. He wasn’t himself. Rooney was so incognito, so unrecognizable,  he could have held up a South African bank in broad daylight and still not have been picked out of an identity parade.
 
In the end, it was just like watching Brazil. The dystopian film, not the fantastic team.