Welcome to the era of expectation. Before 31 July, 2022, England’s pursuit of major trophies was fuelled solely by hope and aspirations of grandeur. The victory over Germany at Wembley and the subsequent outpouring of love changed all that.
Over the course of five weeks, the Lionesses became risk-takers, record-breakers and history-makers. This was an indelible achievement – that squad made footprints in cement, not sand.
It changed the rules of engagement indelibly, too. England no longer merely hopes; it wants greedily. It is no longer delighted to share the rarefied air of elite performance, but wishes to have it all for its own.
The simple maths of the thing makes it make sense: England have reached the semi-finals of the last two World Cups and have won a tournament since. Ergo, it has to be at least the final this time.
Success may have inspired joy and created legacy in England, but it provokes only jealousy and bitterness abroad. This is a Women’s World Cup with an unprecedented number of reasonable challengers and only the US have their heads higher above the parapet than England to be shot down and sent home. Park any talk of the final now.
Before then, England likely face a challenge from all areas of the globe: Canada, Germany, Australia. Group-stage qualification should be comfortable; nothing else will be.
That expectation probably reflects a shift in how the mainstream audience sees the Lionesses. Only a year ago, the focus remained on their breakout as a festival of football and of feminism: the growing crowds, the warm atmosphere at matches, the rising television figures, the maintained connection between the players and supporters. During the European Championship, that groundswell of public opinion and respect was palpable.
As a writer, I found myself focusing a lot on the intangibles because they were alluring and because they felt seismic. Now, it feels appropriate – necessary, even – to move on because the audience has too. We should never lose sight of “The Journey”, because that is a beautiful, important, unique part of women’s football.
But now down to brass tacks: why is Beth England not playing? Why was Steph Houghton’s experience left at home? If we must have another “Le Tissier for England” argument, can we at least hope that this one ends without a thousand conspiracy theories?
England have problems. Without them, they might even have been favourites for this World Cup. But if you win a major tournament and then, less than a year later, begin another without the Golden Boot winner, the captain, the record goalscorer and the most experienced midfielder, doubt is permitted to creep into the dark recesses.
None of Beth Mead, Leah Williamson, Ellen White or Jill Scott are here and it is frankly rude not to have mentioned Fran Kirby’s absence yet.
Goalscoring has become a pestering, frustrating problem. One of the facets of international football (and it is exacerbated in the women’s game) is that the comparative infrequency of matches provokes conclusions based on a small-ish sample size.
England have only played three games in five months and scored a single goal (against Brazil in the Finalissima). The Rachel Daly-Alessia Russo question has not been answered firmly; Beth England appears to be firmly outside in the cold.
And then there’s what we can only call: all the other stuff. The great privilege of men’s football is that they get to travel to major tournaments on the other side of the world and concentrate only on playing football.
For the Lionesses, the fight never stops, for themselves and for those who come after them. The current disagreement over bonus payments is just another example of a group of individuals having to carry an entire game on their backs.
Do not underestimate how exhausting this must all be. Last week in an interview, Sarina Wiegman said that her proudest achievement as England coach was “that young girls have perspective, young girls can play football and young girls can wear shirts with players’ names on”.
Now on the one hand, she’s absolutely right and we love her as a result. But goodness me, imagine the suffocating pressure. Those at the elite level of the women’s game expend so much taking things forward that they barely get to enjoy the moment.
If this all sounds a little negative – the injuries, the retirements, the growth of competition and the uneasy sense that England are slightly caught between two phases of their squad development – Wiegman is the emphatic antidote and the salve.
In three major confederation tournaments (World Cup and European Championships), she has won 18 of her 19 matches and the exception was against the US in the 2019 final in Paris. She is the best coach in the tournament and we should praise be that we have her.
Wiegman’s greatest strength is that she is able to offer a warrior’s spirit with unnerving composure. To say that she is obsessed with maintaining equilibrium would be unfair, but it’s certainly more than a pastime. She is forthright, direct and occasionally – inadvertently or otherwise – cutting.
But that is only a tool. When she bestows praise on her players, or allows a glimpse of levity in her interviews, those moments stick with you. Each of them releases the pressure like a valve.
England’s preparations for the biggest Women’s World Cup in history have not been perfect. They are juggling the pressure of simultaneously coping with the aftermath of success and chasing it. It is OK to be a little scared, slightly haunted by the nagging question that sits deep in the mind of every England fan of every England team: “what if we fail?”.
But those fears are compliments to England, to the players and the coach. They are statues to the distance already covered and the heights scaled.
It will take a pinch of good luck, questions to get quick answers and several things to click, but when does it not? The Lionesses can win this World Cup, even without Beth and Leah and anybody else who isn’t here.
from Football - inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/Qe1JtLF
Post a Comment