Let us not dress this up as a tragedy. England did not bottle it in the semi final against Argentina. They were simply outclassed by a side that expec...
Let us not dress this up as a tragedy. England did not bottle it in the semi final against Argentina. They were simply outclassed by a side that expects to win World Cups, a side whose entire footballing identity is forged in the white heat of knockout football. Thomas Tuchel knew it before kick off, and he had the audacity to say it out loud afterwards. "We are not there yet," he declared, and for that alone he deserves a modicum of respect. The man was hired to deliver a World Cup, but the squad he inherited was never built to stand toe to toe with the true powerhouses.Two years of planning, of obsessive tracking of flights and hotels, of endless debates over whether Jude Bellingham should have been left at home or not. Turns out he should have started every game. Two years of wondering if Danny Welbeck had done enough to earn a seat on the plane. Turns out he had not. And all of it, every last sleepless night and every overpriced pizza in Riga, led to a single moment on Wednesday evening. England were 1. 0 up with forty minutes to play against Lionel Messi and Argentina. Your entire happiness as a supporter rested on whether a group of millionaire footballers and their millionaire German manager could keep their nerve. They could not.Tuchel is doubling down because he has no other option. The players, we are told, were puzzled by his post match comments. But look at the evidence. France, Spain, Argentina carry the weight of expectation like a birthright. They do not panic when the game gets stretched. They do not retreat into a low block and hope for the best. They hunt in packs, they press with venom, and they know how to manage a lead. England, for all their talent, do not. The gap is not a matter of individual quality. It is a matter of footballing culture, of the willingness to suffer, of the sheer bloody mindedness required to win a semi final.Tuchel is right to refuse the drama. The blame game is a waste of energy. The real work begins now, on the training pitch, in the psychology sessions, in the cold examination of why England cannot seem to close out the big games. The third place playoff against France is a consolation prize, a chance to salvage some pride, but it changes nothing. The problem is structural. The problem is mental. And Thomas Tuchel, for all his tactical flexibility and his Champions League pedigree, has a mountain to climb. The question is whether the Football Association and the English public have the patience to let him do it.
