My lovely, wonderful wife was disconsolate. She went to bed, desolated. This is the problem with people who tune in for six matches every four years. They can’t believe defeat. If she came to Millwall a little more often she would become inured. By a little more often I meant “ever”. Defeat hurts more when you think it can’t happen. I think that’s how twenty million Brits were today. After they’d thrown the beer around for a bit, when reality set in. They can’t believe it. And so it becomes a national tragedy, when really it’s just another game of football lost.
The trouble with tragedies is they prevent you asking stuff, because it’s “too soon”. I’ve got one or two questions I’d like to ask Lord Waistcoat, about tactics and substitutions. But it would be in bad taste to do so now. But did anyone, like me, notice a certain pattern with England’s games?