Semi Final Reaction x Marshall Artist

England. One up. In a World Cup semi-final. We’d been there before. We knew how it ended. Disappointment. Frustration. Despair. But this group of lads. This team. This manager. Made us believe it’d be different. The mentality was different. The attitude. The approach. This was our time. Our moment. But when ya facing a Lionel Messi inspired Argentina. Who’ve done it before. Reining champions. You can’t give ‘em an inch. You can’t invite ‘em on to ya. And that’s exactly what we did.

Tommy Tuchel said pre-tournament we’d be brave. We weren’t. We went down without a fight. Bottled it. Crumbled. Like England teams of old. You can’t shut up shop with half an hour to go. Defending a one goal lead. The moment he chucked a sixth defender onto the pitch, was the moment it all went tits up. You shouldn’t have any regrets in life, apparently. But Tommy Tuchel will. Argentina were there for the taking. There to be had on the counter. Bit of pace. Bit of quality. Should’ve finished ‘em off. Instead we stuck ten men behind the ball. Sat in. And Lionel Messi got to work. Picking us apart. He spent an hour in Djed Spence’s back pocket. Smothered by Elliot Anderson. But give lad half a yard. Time. And he’ll punish ya. Messi did just that. Two assists. Put it on a plate for Martinez at the back stick. Weaker foot too. Right peg. Perfectly weighted. Loitered ont’ edge of the box. Waiting for scraps. Unmarked. Can’t be doing that. Nahh. He was always gonna punish us. It was inevitable.

So too was the Argentinian gameplan. Kicking lumps out of us from the off. 22 bastards and Lionel Messi in that squad. An absolute nightmare to play against. Stop. Start. Stop. Start. Stop. Start. Nasty, nasty bunch. Masters of the dark arts. We think Arsenal and Arteta are good at it. Nowt on the South Americans. Nahh. They’re different. The shoulder charges two or three seconds after the ball’s gone. The not-even-sly elbows to the head. Just a talking to from the referee, somehow. Sound. They’re in his ear too. Constantly. Moaning. Every decision debated. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree with that Simeone lad, does it? Five fouls committed. No booking. Mad. Did a job, though. Fair play.

Copa America winners vs. European champions in the final, then. First time it’s ever happened. Most thought it’d be a repeat of the 2022 final. But France proper bottled it. Shit the bed. Didn’t turn up. Mbappe, Dembele, Olise all shite. Spain, unreal. Keep the ball for weeks them lads. Could bore Argentina to death on Sunday. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Goal. Simple as that. Look at ‘em on paper and they’re alright. Nowt special up top. But Rodri dictates play. Dominates midfield. Makes ‘em tick. Yamal provides that attacking flair. Could nutmeg a mermaid that lad. Silky. Be putting him int’ stands me, if i could near him. Defensively they’re solid. Cucurella’s been shite for Chelsea. But under Luis de la Fuente he’s class. See how he gets on against Lionel on Sunday, though. Could be a different story. Yellow card the banker, surely?

England will play France in a third-place playoff before that, though. On the Saturday. 10pm kick-off. Most pointless game ever? FIFA using it to line their pockets a bit more. Few extra quid for owd Infantino. No shame, that lot. Fuck it off. Get the lads on the plane back home. Let ‘em rest. Season starts again in five weeks. Daft.