Oh dear, oh dear. Who’d be an England goalie?
Calamity James can’t be trusted not to go into meltdown in the middle of a match. The reasonably reliable Robinson has seen a series of fumbles dent his confidence – only for the manager to offer support and succour by, er, dropping him. So, step up young Scott Carson. Here’s the chance to make the number one jersey your own.
Yet within minutes the uber-confident England commentary squad are silenced by a hilarious goalkeeping blunder which Mark Lawrenson charitably described as: “More Frank Carson than Scott Carson.” Ho, ho. Not like the legendarily tightwadded Liverpool man to be funny.
Then, as I blog, Carson is left marooned as a Croat waltzes round him in the rain. It’s 2-0 with jammy England (who, let’s face it, don’t really deserve to be in contention at this stage anyway) looking ready to blow it, big time.
Beats me how such a talented team of indiviudals fail to create a team to live up the hype. It’s now almost 20 minutes gone. If England can stage a comeback (and win) from here, then maybe, just maybe, they’ll get a grudging version of the respect they generally feel is theirs to demand without ever working to earn it.
Even at this stage, I wouldn’t put it past England’s over rated and inflated stars to sneak a back door win thanks to a Russia no show. Yet still they’ll be talked up as a team of world beaters and McLaren (who, in fairness is crap) will carry the can.
Wonder if Scott Carson will ever play for England again?