I can see the sight of Gareth Southgate and Harry Kane holding the Euros trophy aloft | OneFootball

Gareth Southgate has ‘shown leadership’ and stated that he is ‘the problem’ and ‘ instructed the media to leave off the players’.

Aw.

So nice, poor souls, but it isn’t their fault and Gareth Southgate is right.

No pattern going forward, and almost as if it was Slovenia playing for a draw the other night and just keeping the ball with no commitment to risk an attack.

As an aside, is it only me who is getting irritated at Kieran Trippier pointing incessantly at where the pass should go?

Surely playing beside someone continuing gesticulating must be a pain but I am getting old and grumpy.

Despite the media whingeing and complaining (and endless, seriously tiresome stuff about 1966, for goodness’ sake, get over it lads), the fact remains that England is top of the group and unbeaten.

Yes, they’re boring.

Yes, they need to be shaken up and a change of formation.

Yes, Wor Flash looked good, and Palmer from Chelsea, but maybe that’s the point.

If England were to go and heaven forbid (imagine 1966 all over again and the constant monotonous diatribe about it ever since), would the media and all the critics hail Gareth Southgate, demand a Knighthood and a wonderdeal with Pizza Hut?

With a wink and a cheeky smile, we actually all knew, all along, that he knew what he was doing, ahem… there would be one or two looking a bit sheepish, but if their selections and formations were introduced, then everyone could claim ownership and bask in the glory.

As long as Tripps and Flash get back to Barrack Road, I couldn’t care less, but why would I?

I am a proud Ulsterman and a little reminder, Northern Ireland remains the Home British Champions and the last time we played England, Beckham, Rooney et al, we won.

Hrrrummph.

However… the players are there, the possibility is there, and like a Dr Who moment, I can see the sight of Gareth Southgate and Harry Kane holding aloft the Euro trophy… I kid you not!

I’m staying behind the sofa until I am shamed, or proven to be a genius.

I look forward to the commentators pronouncing the Georgian players’ names when they face Spain, that in itself should provide enough chuckling to keep me awake from here into oblivion.