England 2-0 Ukraine (Kane 37′, Saka 40′)
This was both football match and demonstration, a game to determine qualification for the European Championships and a show of unity with Ukraine. And for those waving placards demanding F-16 fighter jets from the British government it had more than soft power significance.
A corner of the stadium was decked in the blue and yellow colours of Ukraine. A thousand displaced Ukraine nationals were honoured before kick-off. It all felt suitably necessary and relevant that we use the occasion to coalesce around a noble cause and further alienate a Russian aggressor high on 19th-century imperialism.
For the English the war in Ukraine is an abstraction consumed via media bulletins. We cannot begin to understand the horrors inflicted. Indeed this unprecedented context presented fans and players with the problem of trying to work out the appropriate response. To shovel a bucket full of goals into the Ukraine net seemed at odds with the prevailing sentiment.
Perhaps it was best to respond to the prompts of Ukraine voices. Former Ukraine international Igor Belanov put it thus: “Football is a religion that unites Ukraine. It’s difficult for people in Europe to understand this, but even during the war, soldiers, medical workers, volunteers, they want to feel the taste of a peaceful life at least for a moment. The game versus England is one of the few opportunities to switch from war to sport for at least two hours.”
So with the permission of the people of Ukraine the match found its legitimacy. Yet it still needed time for the contest to escape the strangeness which inevitably enveloped the early exchanges. In short it needed a goal. And who else to supply it other than England’s foremost statesman, captain Harry Kane?
His volleyed strike 10 minutes before half time restored the order of things, brought the occasion back to sport. That said it was scored at the end of the stadium which housed the Ukraine supporters, towards whom Kane’s ritual celebration took him. Was it the imagination or did Kane choke down a tad on that familiar leap and karate chop? And then Bukayo Saka did his thing to totally normalise the evening, if ever a strike like that can be considered normal.
Early in the second half a Ukraine defender hoofed an attempted back pass behind his own goal for an England corner. This drew the only possible response from the England fans, whole-hearted derision presented via ironic cheers. We had truly reached the point of immersion, the stadium uncompromisingly in the football zone.
As England settled into a powerful rhythm, demonstrating the promise of this squad, the home supporters picked up on the mood with a series of Mexican waves, to which the Ukraine quarter showed a flat bat, resolutely refusing to engage. This was entirely an expression of discontent with the balance of the match, which in itself was reassuring.
Whenever Ukraine encroached upon the England box, the yellow and blue waved them forwards, urging, pointing, screaming as if the outcome of this game was all that mattered. Nothing mattered less, of course.
This was Ukraine’s first qualifying fixture. Evaluating what it all means for them needs an algorithm beyond the capacity of the brain to compute. Everything about their participation is layered in otherness, the sense of displacement overwhelming. Yet on the yellow shirts ran until then end, here yet not here.
England, to their credit, never relented. Shortly before his departure Kane threw his marker to the ground in a show of admirable commitment. Getting to the ball first mattered. The willingness of the defender to resist was all the justification the game needed. No matter how surreal the backdrop it meant everything for him and his team-mates to be at Wembley in a yellow shirt.
England paid Ukraine the compliment of continuing to pound their goal. The appearance of terrace totem Jack Grealish late in the piece drew a huge cheer, which was not at all a comment on the player he replaced. James Maddison made the most of his first England start, inflicting upon Ukraine a repertoire of twists, turns and forceful breaks that might yet persuade Gareth Southgate to take him seriously as a starting No. 10.
At the close the Ukraine players made their way towards their supporters in a show of deeply felt unity. Ben Chilwell ran across to embrace his Chelsea team-mate Mykhailo Mudryk, who looked surprisingly vulnerable with his diminutive frame subsumed beneath his hooded coat.
That show of friendship and support was a metaphor for what had gone before, a match played out on two levels. England could have put six past Ukraine as many among the pundit class argued. To make that point seemed to miss the point on a day when the technical details could never quite escape the circumstances of a European nation fighting for its survival 1,500 miles away.
from Football - inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/w83LpR7
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