World Cup failure is so much worse for England than France

Not winning the FIFA World Cup has come as a crushing blow for both France and England this summer, and not just for football reasons.

Failure has been discussed constantly and passionately, with missed chances and poor tactics analysed time and again.

As always, ambitious celebrations were being planned in both countries, and all have been cancelled for at least another four years.

There was no occasion for the population of either nation to get together in a mass show of patriotic joy, and this matters.

In an age when empires and world wars are fading from living memory, sporting greatness provides one of the few opportunities for genuine unity.

Red, white and blue can be worn unashamedly, as flags are waved and the national anthem is sung.

Depictions of the Three Lions and the Gallic cockerel can be displayed without irony or embarrassment.

Such exhibitions of pride are nothing to do with small-town xenophobia or any kind of political bitterness either – they are about playing the game, and playing it brilliantly.

Look at the France and England squads who turned out for this year’s World Cup in North America, and you will find black, brown and white players from all parts of their respective countries.

They have different ethnic and religious backgrounds, and even different accents.

All are British or French, from north, south, east and west – proud citizens supported by men, women and children who are also from every kind of heritage.

Despite failing to reach the World Cup final in New Jersey in July, a narrative of success is far easier for France to project than poor old England.

Les Bleus won the trophy as recently as 2018, holding it until 2022, meaning any French person who is now more than four years old was alive when their nation’s footballers were global champions.

Every single French adult today could have watched the win against Croatia in Moscow, while everyone over 30 could have seen “Rainbow France” – a reference to their multi-coloured origins – lift the trophy in Paris after defeating Brazil in 1998.

The British perspective

In contrast, England’s one and only World Cup victory was in the age of black-and-white TV, back in 1966.

Only one home player who took the field in the starting eleven at Wembley Stadium in London – hat-trick hero Geoff Hurst – is still with us.

Poignantly, Queen Elizabeth II, who handed over the Jules Rimet trophy on that distant July day, has also passed on, along with many of the certainties prevalent when the Crown dominated British society.

The England players wore imperial red shirts six decades ago, and, beyond the bald ones, had short-back-and-sides haircuts, like they were young military recruits.

All were white, of course, and displayed supreme deference to their sovereign leader when they went up to the Royal Box to collect their medals.

Their manager, Alf Ramsey, called serving in the British Army during World War Two “one of the greatest things which ever happened to me”.

Sir Alf would certainly not have been impressed by his country appointing numerous foreigners including a Swede, an Italian and – now – a German as his successors.

This is all fine and historic – there is no need to be politically correct about old world opinions shaped by a turbulent era – but it illustrates how times have moved on since England was a truly successful football nation.

It is an absolute tragedy that the country that literally invented the beautiful game has never been able to take its place among giants like France in a massively changed world.