Flicking through England’s flip book from 1966 to the present day reveals a series of peaks and troughs, followed by more troughs, along with abject failure and dashed dreams. It reveals fresh starts, long periods in the doldrums, scandal, missed penalties, and pizza ads. It reveals so many disappointments it should be changed to a man wearing an England jersey kicking another man wearing a replica England jersey square in the teeth over and over again.

But on every page there was also hope, a defiant optimism that bordered on delusion as we collectively believed that somehow glory could be imminently achieved against all odds.

So entrenched was the optimism that it became mocked by those who sneer at such things; it became cliché until eventually it contrasted so sharply with the national side’s shortcomings that a charge of arrogance was thrown into the mix too. We believed we were better than we were and no amount of empirical evidence could shake that.

Sadly, you would be hard pushed to find much of that hope and optimism now. Those days are gone, the sneerers won and it died. Now apathy reigns along with a pervading sense of negativity that masquerades as pragmatism. And it comes from the top down.

Gareth Southgate’s public utterances in recent weeks have amounted to one big downer. England are no longer a major force; there is a ‘harsh lens’ needed on who we really are once patriotic bluster is stripped away. Whether you view this approach as imparting a much needed reality check or preparing to fail it certainly feels like the England coach’s dose of the melancholies is ten years too late. Where was such talk in the 2000s when we all got into a tremendous tizzy over a ‘golden generation’ that was anything but? Where was it nearly forty years ago when simple maths told us that Keegan plus Brooking plus Robson equalled world domination?

Right now we don’t need yet more cold water splashed onto our faces Gareth. Right now some hope and something to believe in again would be nice.

Interest in England’s fortunes – with all the tub-thumping, fervour, and discourse on team-selection and performance that comes with it – is at an all-time low. Few care to any meaningful degree and many of those who don’t give a fig actually regard qualifying games as an outright inconvenience; an interruption to a fascinating and enthralling conversation involving a fight for Champions League spots, the future of Arsene Wenger, and the fluctuating form of Liverpool. By comparison England fixtures are a buzz-kill; they’re steamed vegetables on a school dinner plate; they’re the serious bits on Comic Relief; they’re a text from your mum reminding you of an auntie’s forthcoming birthday dinner in the middle of a necking sesh with your girlfriend.

This indifference – and arguably even detachment – has not come about suddenly. It’s been a gradual erosion in part through an allergic reaction to sustained Rooney-mania as he flatters to deceive under a succession of conservative managers. Largely though it’s because of the boredom of repetition: every two years England flat-track bully a litany of minnows to progress through their qualifying group only to have their mediocrity exposed by genuinely decent European sides. No amount of beer commercials showing divs in painted faces clenching their fist in pride can distract us from that.

The teams themselves have hardly helped matters in recent years either and I’m not talking about the penalty exits or costly red cards because they at least evoked high-drama and emotion. I mean the thousands of minutes of friendlies and qualifying home bankers played out in rudimentary, uninspiring fashion. A collection of individuals going through the motions and just doing enough.

This Sunday evening England will take on the might of Lithuania and triumph 2-0 or 3-0, barely breaking a sweat to do so. Small sections of the crowd will boo Raheem Sterling’s every touch, exhibiting the same small-town, UKIP mentality that prompted songs about Second World War bombers in Germany this week. Journalists will half-heartedly pen reports highlighting the encouraging seeds of improvement witnessed under new boss Southgate. The rest of us will awake from our slumber, feel mainly relief that it’s all over for another few months, and begin counting down the days until captivating and engrossing club football returns.

It takes a long time for hope to die but when it’s at the hands of predictability it only requires some inspiration to rouse it. Let’s hope one day we have a FA, England manager, and group of players who realise this.

[ad_pod id='playwire' align='center']