GOM World Cup Diary #8: Why Can’t We Ever Just Enjoy It?
England won 4-2 last night.
Just let that sink in for a moment.
Four goals scored.
Three points secured.
A winning start to the World Cup.
By any sensible measure, that’s a very good evening’s work.
And yet, by the time I’d poured myself a post-match coffee, the experts were already explaining why England should be worried.
The final whistle had barely blown before the discussion turned to defensive shape, midfield balance and whether Thomas Tuchel should be concerned about what might happen when we eventually face one of the tournament favourites.
We’ve played one match.
One.
Not one group stage.
Not one knockout round.
One match.
Yet somehow we’ve already reached the stage of worrying about the quarter-finals.
I remember a time when winning 4-2 meant you spent at least two days feeling cheerful.
You talked about the goals.
You praised the centre-forward.
You debated whether the referee had a decent game.
You ordered another coffee.
Nobody was calculating potential quarter-final opponents before breakfast.
Now every victory seems to arrive with an immediate health warning.
“Yes, but…”
Those three words have become the unofficial slogan of English football.
“We won 4-2.”
“Yes, but the defence looked vulnerable.”
“We scored four goals.”
“Yes, but better teams might punish us.”
“We’ve got three points.”
“Yes, but…”
There is always a but.
If England win 1-0, we complain there weren’t enough goals.
If we win 4-2, we complain there were too many.
If we win 7-0, somebody will point out that the opposition weren’t very good.
And if we ever win the World Cup again, there will probably be a debate about whether the route to the final was particularly challenging.
It’s who we are.
We are a nation that treats optimism with deep suspicion.
Other countries see a bright future and become excited.
England sees a bright future and immediately starts checking the weather forecast.
Mind you, I can’t pretend I’m any different.
As Croatia scored their second goal, I found myself muttering about defending.
As the match entered the final few minutes, I was already wondering what Ghana might do to us next week.
So perhaps the problem isn’t England supporters.
Perhaps worrying is simply part of supporting England.
Hope and anxiety have spent so long together that they’ve become inseparable.
Maybe that’s why World Cups mean so much.
Every victory gives us permission to dream.
Every defensive mistake reminds us to be careful.
And somewhere between the two lies the uniquely English football experience.
Still, England scored four goals and won their opening match.
That sounds worth enjoying.
At least until somebody starts talking about the quarter-finals again.
Anyway, what do I know?
I’m just a grumpy old man.
Agree? Disagree? Tell me in the comments — the Grumpy Old Man can take it.
