At least one aspect of the Olympics survived at Wembley: the unashamedly biased commentary.
A candidate for the summer’s outstanding example had to be Andy Townsend’s verdict — “I just wonder if he was too honest in staying on his feet” — as Danny Welbeck went down under a non-existent challenge in the penalty area. To give ITV its due, the referee was later shown to have been correct.
An air of unreality also pervaded the arena, not least when it was announced that more than 68,000 people were present, and Roy Hodgson caught the mood by claiming not only that Steven Gerrard had been unlucky to receive two yellow cards but that the four other England cautions had also been “harsh”.
There was a time when the dismissal of an England captain entailed shame but here, of course, we waited in vain for the apologies that came so sincerely from Jody Cundy and Oscar Pistorius after their falls from grace at the Paralympics.
Yes, football is back with all the imperfections which we don’t greatly mind as long as the entertainment levels remain high enough to drive any thought of cycling, athletics and even tennis from our minds for all but a few weeks of the year. This is where international football is a letdown. Most of the time, certainly to the English, it falls woefully short of the escapism provided by the Premier League. So, a warm welcome back to the polyglot drama that resumes at Norwich at 12.45pm on Saturday.
For me at least, the highest form of football will always be the international tournament — the World Cup or European Championship — but the qualifying process has become an often tedious ritual. In this case, there is not even the excitement of an England on the brink of failure, for Hodgson’s confidence seems reasonably founded: he did not stretch credence in noting an improvement in their creative play since he took charge shortly before Euro 2012.
The passing and movement were brisk at times last night and they were never quite outclassed as in substantial periods of the countries’ meeting in Donetsk.
The young men sweated encouragingly — only enthusiasm for the cause will ever bring England a measure of fulfilment — and a highlight was Tom Cleverley’s explosive emergence from anonymity late in the first half; although the midfielder (above) did not score, this ability to threaten on a poor night bore the mark of a very good player.
The search for the holy grail of patience goes on and it remains extraordinary that wearers of the white shirt find execution of the simple pass so elusive.
But we have Hodgson’s word that work is in progress and he is to be believed more than Sven-Goran Eriksson and Fabio Capello who were in the England job for money and a professional challenge rather than the hope a life’s mission could be fulfilled. Whether, at 65, Hodgson has enough time to make the national team as popular as the humblest Olympian remains to be seen.
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