I don’t know anybody who actually thought Southgate would ‘ring the changes’ at half-time, last night. (Did the pundits actually expect that? I muted, early-doors but not before hearing Neville saying something hugely bold and generous about Trent: fair dooos, for a United Man). But the no subs thing became like some Uber-Gareth phenomenon, eh, as the deathly stasis wore on? There became something Ansel Adams-like about both the epic, barren non-performance of his side, and the vacant-but-rich flat-lining image we innocent bystanders were conjuring of the post-match interview, pre-Bellingham.

It would have been some vista, that, with Southgate’s magnificent chin set hard against an ominously swirling backdrop of plastic pint-pots, bratwursts and in then out-of-focus flags. He would have said something about ‘belief in the boys and the process’ before the lads from St Jan’s Ambulance dragged him away by the legs.

But Bellingham – out-of-form, largely; laboured and even a little lame with some of his in-box theatrix – did happen. He did conjure something spectacular and mad: in all this dullness. Gareth was spared – we were all, all spared. The Exceptional Reality that us Inglish inhabit got another nick in the bedpost… and those laughable hours of non-intervention by the coach turned out alright. Gareth could march once more through the miraculous madness/genius corridor and fight (or flee) another day.

I don’t know anybody who is crediting Southgate for any of this: I genuinely don’t think I know anybody who thinks he was right to wait and wait. And this is not because we lack patience or understanding; most of us respect the idea that faith in players is or can be both wonderful and (wot’s the word?) redemptive. The gaffer can and will make the argument that a) he was right in theory and b) (obvs) that he was right in practice. Kane may have been every bit as non-interventionist as his coach, during the tournament and the game, but the bloke nodded the winner. So it’s true that things worked out… and true that most of the universe raged against what felt like patent and even cowardly inaction from the England coaching staff.

Fabulous, ‘deadly’, daft contraflows remain. Those of us who have been angry at and critical of Southgate are the opposite of chastened and appeased. Despite noting the egg on our faces and the bare, extraordinary facts – and the undeniable decency of the man – we are unable to get with Gareth’s theory. (If there is one). The performance was yet again so dispiritingly one-paced and so dull that we dip into the weirdly abstract. How can we enjoy that stuff? In what way is this meant to lift or entertain us? (Even with that Late Drama it still registered as something closer to profound disappointment and embarrassment than to joy). Can’t we do better than this? With that fekkun line-up, surely we can do better than this?

I’m not sure that passage through trumps enjoyment, I’m really not. Friends and family have been saying since the first game that they don’t want England to go through playing like that. (Fact!) They’d rather someone else wins it, playing watchable or hopefully exciting football.

The Meedya barely registers this: as though *things really are* only about winning. There’s this assumption that fans only care about those bedpost notches – I assume because that plays in (or helpfully conforms to) the corporate/’Premier League’ mentality around buying into bigness. Sure we hear plenty loudmouthed donkeys on phone-ins adding fuel to that blinding fire: but I hear and I feel a whole lot more generosity from fans, than that. We care about levels of effort and commitment and heart and we value entertainment.

England are no doubt committed and no doubt they love their country – whatever that means. But there’s a heavy dollop of delusion in there, too. They probably do believe their dull pattern is ‘doing a decent job’. They probably think that ball retention is an end in itself, because ‘chances will come’. Bellingham probably did enjoy sticking it to all of us critics, by sticking that ball in the net. There probably is some truth in all of these views. Patience may be key, may be proven to be key. 2-1. Onward.

England may yet go on and win this tournament. But even if things change now, and they turn dramatically into a thrillingly inventive and creative side, fans local and distant will be underwhelmed. In one sense it’s already too late. There really is a Bigger Picture. We’ve seen a whole series of poor performances. Truly fine players have looked lost in a matrix of sluggishness. A team featuring Foden, Bellingham, Saka and Kane has offered almost no threat. That’s a disappointment: yes?