A Dose of Unreality

“A Dose of Reality”, seems to be the cliché on the lips of many following England’s- admittedly flawed- victory over Mexico. Although excitement is mounting and World Cup Fever has planted its roots; underneath it all there seems to be an overwhelming national feeling of... well, reality, behind the furore. Yes, England has a line-up of world class talent, Yes we finally have a sensible manager and yes we have Wayne Rooney, but seriously, we’re not really going to win the World Cup, it is England after all. It seems to me that what the nation really needs is a dose of unreality.
The truth is England have deficiencies in most areas of the pitch and on paper the attacking line-ups of Argentina and Spain should tear shreds through what seemed a rather papery back line against Mexico. But the most important truth, is that truth is merely relative.
The truth I choose to believe is that, in the immortal words of Jimmy Greaves, “Football is a funny old game”, and if we hold this epitaph close to our hearts anything is possible. England has actually won the World Cup before, but did Geoff Hurst’s strike truly cross the line. The truth, like 1960’s goal lines, is a shaky business. The sensible conclusion is that England will not win the World Cup and English fans it seems have become a thoroughly sensible bunch.
Now for the dose of unreality: England dispense with the likes of USA, Algeria and Slovenia in unspectacular yet efficient style. Australia proves a sterner second round test than expected, but memories of the Ashes are replayed as we once more win out. With national feeling galvanised we meet our old foes like Harry and The Iron Duke at Agincourt and Waterloo. The French, not being the force they once were, fall at the wayside as we march on to the semis and our first real test. The Brazilians, a defensively solid unit under the guardianship of Dunga, fight out a dour nil all draw. For so long our Achilles heel penalties this time prove our saviour and a final against Argentina awaits. The game is poised, one a piece, five minutes to go, Wayne Rooney, having already cancelled out Messi’s opener with an individual piece of genius, rises to meet Gerrard’s cross, a roar goes up; “Was that his head, it looked like something else”, it matters not the World Cup is ours, and the Gods once again smile upon us. Maybe I just need to get real, but you have to admit it would be nice.