Lionesses

Let’s party.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Remarkable in terms of the record and remarkable because of how it felt. Wiegman and England.

The manager (or is it coach?) *really must* have something extraordinary going on. We can only guess that it oozes out from that intellectual calm. And maybe that her huddles are truly and genuinely inspirational.

This is not to say that the woman from The Hague can’t plan, or juggle, or read the game. Surely only Emma Hayes is at Wiegman level in terms of strategy and tactical awarenesses? But where Hayes has a physical presence, Ar Sarina has that quaker-like calm.

She’s needed it. Because (here’s where it gets weird) not only is there an argument that her team repeatedly scraped through this thing but also that very few of them played anywhere near their capacity. Might sound ungenerous or even churlish but that rarest of things the Dispassionate View might see things thataway. Look; if it could be remotely possible to judge (and by this I mean set aside the excitement and the drama and *really judge*) then who gets an 8/10, say, over the tournament?

Before you people freak out at the essential negativity here let me offer a friendly biff around the bonce. I get this… and I get that – duh – if Ingerland really underperformed, then clearly they can get to a frightening level. One where we really might dispassionately talk of dynasties. They won here – wow! Let’s party! – without generating phases of play; without relentlessly closing down; without being all that good. It was a remarkable case (to use a Proper English phrase) of muddling through.

Hampton. Hampton was consistently good. The farces around penalties foisted her into another space, where palpitations and ardent, myopic tribalism inevitably cast her as hero and legend. She made some goodish penalty saves… but most of us would have saved them. No matter: for her general, allround goalkeeping play, she gets an 8. Excellent temperament. Strikes the ball well and often beautifully. HH – who let’s remember turned the issue of the Earps-void or Earps-omission into a non-issue – is now unarguably in the top two or three keepers on the planet. She played to her level consistently. I’m not sure anyone else did.

Walsh is often quiet – it’s just the way she plays – but she was relatively uninfluential. Stanway was mixed. Williamson has sublime composure and head-up passing quality but apart from an accomplished display in the final, the captain was decent rather than exceptional. Toone was in and out, bits and pieces, as she has been for eighteen months. Mead likewise. Hemp had a strongish final but was disappointing through the tournament. Carter looked what she is: honest, strong but limited. Greenwood played below her best – her best being ver-ry good, both in defence and going forward. Less arrowed passes, less brilliant dead balls.

James and Bronze have both been crocked. Bronze still managed to be a key figure, despite being vulnerable last night. Her courage may hoist her rating above 7; I’ll leave that to you. James, apart from that thrilling early goal, was nowhere near her beguiling best – but crocked.

I’m a huge fan of Russo, who (as previously noted) may have the best engine in world football. Outside the box she’s fabulous. Can hold and turn and run like hell. Her energy and sheer willingness are sensational. She got a good solid header in to equalise Spain’s lovely (but poorly-defended) opener but *did miss* opportunities in the earlier rounds and is not, in my view a great finisher generally. Wiegman may, however, put Russo’s name down on the team-mate before anybody else’s and I would have no argument. She has class… and she has that engine.

I too must dash. Let the other scribes do the ‘definitive’ stories and the marks out of ten. I’ve a mum with dementia in front of me and no time to unscramble the scramble.

England won two on the bounce – incredible. Penalties again, entirely credibly but also veering towards another mess. But no. Charles and somebody else and then Kelly stood up. The latter loves the theatre of this and embodies it. A mischievous prance at the ball and this time a fluent, fabulous connection. Job done and let’s party.

Wins just happening.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

It’s dangerous but it feels important and maybe even right to stick down a few things about the Lionesses. Knowing they will be judged – not by many, of course, but judged. These things are true for me. Let’s get the vilest or most contentious one out the way first-up.

The penalty fluff-out means we can’t go calling these women #warriors*. It was an international embarrassment and it was bad for the women’s game.

(*OK. Qualification  numero uno. You could probably describe Bronze’s performance as heroic, and therefore warrior-like. She brought everything. I might argue that the only other England player to play up to their level – and therefore express courage in a different sense – was Kelly, who came on and performed).

We can’t describe Hampton’s performance as unequivocally heroic, because she was mediocre during the second half, and wasteful with those strangely over-pumped hoofs up the park – twenty five yards beyond her attack. (Probably adrenaline or stress but weirdly in-keeping with the general level of mis-execution). Yes she may be the best keeper in the tournament for her driven passes and general work, and yes she went into the shootout with three hundredweight of cotton wool up her nozzer, but how many penalties did she actually *have to save?*) Let her enjoy her moment, absolutely, but this was a win conjured by abstracted qualities, barely (if at all?) expressed.

Blimey. What does that even mean?

It means England have quality – they have the second or third best squad in the tournament – and this can out in extraordinary, fascinating, infuriating or cruelly redemptive ways. Russo can ‘earn’ you a win for her lionhearted and endless running, despite her repeatedly poor finishing. (Missed headers in the tournament, rather feebly missed shooting chances and a continuing and concerning lack of fox-in-the-boxness. But all that wonderful other stuff!). Greenwood can earn you a win for her rare steadiness and drilled crossfield passes. James can earn you a win, with her electrifying brilliance. Or maybe Sweden can just out-capitulate you in the lottery that is the shootout.

England can be truly lousy, defensively, from Carter’s workaday limitations to Williamson’s fabulous-but-flawed, non-physical, almost metaphysical reliance on wit and game-reading skills. They can be painfully easy to play through or around: Sweden did that, first half.

Esme Morgan, who replaced her injured skipper, is a profoundly good footballer but she is almost nailed-on to offer a howler, as she did late in extra-time, almost ‘fatally’. Walsh is a sort of elite water-carrier very much in the mould of the modern Academy Era: deeply proficient at rebounding passes and playing safe and short. But like those central defenders, you wouldn’t mind playing against her. There is something there that you can really open up.

But hang on. We should note to the universe that Ingerland did stir impressively to grab back a) a chance and then b) the initiative with firstly a great goal (made by Kelly and finished by Bronze) and the momentum-capping scramble ninety seconds later. Russo might even have won it before extra-time had she not failed to sort her feet again. However, England’s fresh legs looked like they might carry them through, as the 90 minutes expired.

Extra-time was almost all Sweden. The multiplicity of changes (and/or tiredness mental or physical, and/or possibly inadequate direction) saw Wiegman’s side look listless and open as overtime ticked away. Sweden, not the Lionesses, had heads up and energy re-primed. England had little of the ball, making almost no phases of play. (In fact England rarely do this – other than those sideways or backwards rebounds between central midfield or defenders. Walsh making 80 passes with almost none of them counting). Then we had those penalties.

I dislike pens but concede immediately and pitifully that we probably have to go there in the modern era. These were garbage: an embarrassment. The players and staff will know that and do that juggle where they both acknowledge and move on. But they should note that because of Mead’s anaemic performances over many months and James’s in-out temperament, they may need to be taking pen 12 and 13.

England have been fortunate again in the draw and I expect them to make the final. They should. They may go on and win it, dynamically and with style. They do have quality. But almost everywhere you look, they also have soft-spots. Players who get that glazed eyes thing or that rush of fear. Wiegman really must be exceptional at galvanising something but it’s hard to identify what it is. Because errors. Because despite the evidence of wins, she will know she has players who cannot execute really simple things, in the moment.

Be honest, despite this evidence of comebacks and ‘resolve’, which of them feels deeply and inviolably resolute? Or perhaps more exactly, which of them has you confident that they will deliver? Maybe Bronze and Greenwood. All of Toone, Mead, Hemp, Stanway and James do feel bit willowy*, do they not – or susceptible to pressure? (Is that* a cruel word to use? If so, apologise. Reaching for the truth of this. And I acknowledge that Stanway and Toone – arguably all of them – do have a certain kind of toughness. These things are complex).

So wow; we have quite a phenomenon here. The cool record shows England, who really do have top players, are also consistently defying this litany of perceived vulnerabilities. Meaning either I’m wrong with much of the above – entirely possible, of course – or that perhaps their wins, or any wins do *just happen?* And perhaps this is wonderful?

In Question.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

It would be absurd, plainly, to suggest that there’s a significant mentality problem with the Lionesses: (duh, ‘they only went and won the cup’). But as a fan and follower it does feel like that, a little. Many of us, I think, slip into anger at the nervousness plaguing so many players and/or so many of the early minutes of a ‘typical’ England performance – or should that be non-performance. There are too many howlers.

Again, last night, Wiegman’s side under-achieved pretty extravagantly, being wasteful, slack, lacking purpose or focus. Bright was understandably (and I thought rightly) in there for her physicality and strength against strong and athletic players, but her first contribution was an embarrassment, and she – of all people – seemed to lack the gumption and the will to drive through the spreading nerves and get to her natural (if limited) game.

She was by no means the only one. If you were to drop into that cheap marks-out-of-ten thing, Bright might raise a 4, but who would be above 6, from last night? Williamson, certainly: she may have felt both angry and yes, embarrassed at the level of passing and control and execution around her. The skipper was the proverbial head and shoulders above her team-mates, being the only one playing genuinely heads-up football. (The other prime candidate, generally, would be Walsh, but she was another profound disappointment, disappearing back into the dullness of the most unproductive of water-carrying roles: everything square or ‘safe’; keep-ball but no product. Worse, it often felt that wasn’t making angles to receive passes – so being relatively unavailable, as well as unthreatening).

Russo was wonderfully game and mobile, as always, at least offering some confidence and that potential for linking play. But her ‘killer’ passes or strikes at goal were notably feeble, sadly. Mead and Hemp are excellent players, but their propensity for early nerves and subsequent, intermittent failure to execute even simple passes or heavily rehearsed moves appears reinforced. Stanway had a poor game, Toone was anonymous and despite the additional presence of Bright, the defence again looked vulnerable – again, particularly in central areas.

I get that they were playing France, one of the best sides in the world. But patently England are one of the best sides in the world; they just haven’t played like it, for a year or more.

So we have to question Wiegman as well her players. Job numero uno for any coach of any team is to breed a confident environment: get players happy and able to express. (I’m not thinking we’re seeing that – you? No). We’re dealing with abstracts and moods and personal/psychological stuff, here, so let’s not pretend that this is simple… or entirely manageable, even. And yet it’s still the first box that a manager or coach has to tick. And that manager or coach will be judged, forensically or through anger and disappointment, on the quality and fluency of their side *through his prism*. Are players are giving a fair account of themselves? Or is lack of something – let’s call it confidence – undermining what they do?

If we zoom in then tactical matters and matters of pattern or playing style reveal themselves. But that prior and wider view is a) often more honest – in the sense that it’s more widely felt and understood – and b) it’s hard to shake.

The team humour resonates with fans; they share the nervousness and actually share it around; in the stadium. In this weather-vane ethersphere, the Lionesses are currently mid relative-trough; starting badly and getting caught in cruel, infectious, debilitating cycles of mis-step and angst. Small breakouts into almost-football but then another unforced error. It’s horrible to watch. Coaches have to stem this by either re-invigorating confidences, or doing the shouty-sweary stuff, to get people focused – to get them ‘doing their f*cking jobs’.

Stanway’s job is to cover the ground and make passes. Toone similar – although she darts more and gets into scoring positions more. But she, too, is not making the passes. Bronze may be and may think she is a worldie beyond criticism. But her defending is slack, and given those talents and that force, she’s nowhere near to maxxing-out her influence.

Wiegman is entitled to be thinking about the unthinkable: switching Carter to right back, bringing the left-sided (and tough, and strongish dead-ball merchant, and pinger of decent passes) Greenwood back in – let’s face it, she should have played last night – and either dropping Bronze or pushing her forward. The midfield needs a re-fresh and England’s strongest defensive line-up might be Earps / Carter / Bright / Williamson / Greenwood. (Morgan looks a player but is maaybee too like Williamson: Bright is on a warning but she was the best player at the Euro’s and she does offer old-school defensive virtues, plus a threat from set-pieces – or should). Bronze, such is the scope of her game and her dynamism, could displace any of the three current midfielders and probably bring greater consistency and penetration. (Not saying this happens, but the prevailing out-of-sorts-ness needs a remedy).

We/you/I could write a book about Earps: possibly even about her first contact with the action, last night. Was she already crocked – or how much was she already crocked? She just got in a slightly ungainly position to strike the ball, left-footed, then ouch. Something popped or cracked a little, without any clogging from an onrushing striker. We may never know whether Ar Mary – whom we genuinely love, for her Proper Football Passion – has been a wee bit selfish, in hiding or minimising an injury, so as to stay in the side. (We’ve all done it, yes?)

That story may be a thing of beauty and intrigue… or relative ugliness and deceit. Her switch for the impressively calm-looking Hampton was not what any side would want. But did it reduce the effectiveness or flow of the Lionesses? No. They were bitty and sometimes raw bad in any case. Their prospects for qualification look ‘in question’. Wiegman has work to do.

Proper England.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

70-odd thousand supporters in the ground; a grandstand finish; some heroic effort and some painfully poor choices when Our Lot seemed likely to score. Star player on the night and wisest, coolest head? In the pundit’s chair – Emma Hayes. And goddammit she’s lost to America. Everybody else bit lost in the rush and the ‘urgency’. So yeh, Proper England.

Russo fabulously mobile and full of intent – but only on the park for twenty minutes. James and Kirby and Stanway scandalously wayward or seemingly lazy… but probably just nervy, because despite their experience these MASSIVE, FLOODLIT, WEMBLEY NIGHTS are maybe something you do grow into over time. And then, in any case, they were stirred to brilliance. The visitors run ragged but also doing that ‘we’re here and we’re going to pick our moment because we *just might* have more class (or certainly composure) than you Inglish’ thing. The Oranje looking, in that first half, like they might get battered but win three nil.

Pick your moment to get irate about. Or enthuse about. Or say ‘this could only be England’ about. Because this was/is authentic, now. Was it the godawful second goal, where every Lioness in the building went AWOL, or misjudged, or daren’t commit, before the consistently excellent Earps let a distinctly ordinary shot squirm under her body? Was it when James repeated the Unbelievably Bad Choice Option, despite having time and options? Was it Kirby – the brilliant, low-slung, cerebral, skilful Kirby – being persona non wotsits again; as absent as her fellow water-carrier (and fellow absentee) Walsh? I lost energy on all these things.

But c’mon. We were gripped. By the drama of the last half hour, and the quality of Hemp, despite her cruel isolation, and by the two richly weighted assists from James, and the wonder-pass that made the Netherland’s opener. Gripped.

When Toone – who had rightly been dropped after a series of performances which kinda personified the Lionesses thoroughly disappointing campaign – slid in the winner from James’s perceptive cross, Wembley went medium-bonkers in a particularly satisfying way.

England had surged back, hugely to their credit. The gaffer – Wiegmann – who had maybe been found wanting, tactically, early doors, threw Mead and Russo and probably Stanley Matthews at this, late on. She could have withdrawn Bronze or Stanway or Kirby or anyone but Hemp, at the half. Instead the tangential (and wasteful) Kelly got the hook, with England two-down and weirdly both dominant and worryingly porous. Then Morgan, then everybody with an English passport put shoulder to the wheel. It was a great win.

What it means though, is likely disappointment. Post-match, the wonderfully sturdy Earp heaped the blame on herself. Nah. One big error but she was exposed by poor work in front. Plus England should have capitalized on chances before and after the two weak concessions. Earp we love, for her general quality and the occasional delightfully obvious and possibly marginally defiant ‘what the fuck’, to the nearest and most intrusive camera. You’d want her in your mob.

As a squad, this particular group have under-achieved in this particular competition. But what the fuck? They got Wembley rammed. They won something major. They are worth the investment and the grief. They are our new, watchable, wonderful Ingerland.