England’s day of judgement seemed to take ages to come around and, despite John Terry’s best efforts to convince the English public all problems will be ironed out in some fictional, brutally honest ‘big meeting’, the usual apprehensions and unanswered questions hung over the game like freezing mist atop the Wrekin.

What formation will he play? Should Gerrard play off Rooney? Can he and Lampard play alongside each other? Should he play Crouch with Rooney? Or even play Defoe and Crouch, who combine so well at Spurs and, after his last few performances, drop Rooney? (never really an option) Who should play in nets? Is he gonna drop a clanger? Is Upson ready for the biggest stage? Should Joe Cole start? Or Lennon, or Milner?
Oh, the suspense…!

In the end it was Defoe in to partner Rooney and Guy Mowbray was quick to let us know that Rooney and Defoe have started up front together seven times, neither has scored and Defoe’s been substituted every time. Way to piss on those hastily-built bonfires of hope, Guy! In commentary, Mark Lawrenson was sure there’d be a midfield diamond formation with Gerrard allowed the freedom to get up and support the strikers but it soon became clear we were going for the traditional 4-4-2, Milner wide right and Gerrard again playing out of position on the left.

Lawro was also quite keen to put a few early dampeners on proceedings (‘We’re just too quick to force the pass and get it forward … Defoe’s not had a touch yet…and he can’t hold the ball up…’) and there were one or two early moments of concern. Terry and Lampard both gave the ball away, having risky passes intercepted not far outside of their own box, while Barry and Johnson were lucky to escape what would’ve been perfectly justifiable yellow cards, German ref Wolfgang Stark keen to carry on his record of never before having booked an England player.

After 10 minutes or so however, we began to settle, kept possession well and were positive and single-minded in our quest to get forward and create chances: Johnson found Rooney with a superb long pass which led to corner, Lampard troubled the keeper with a long-range free kick then almost got on the end of Rooney’s threaded nutmeg pass, Rooney worked space for himself around the ‘D’ and won a corner (although feeding Milner might’ve been a better option), Terry went close from another corner… and David James made light work of Slovenia’s only attempt. All good stuff so far.

Then it got better. Lampard and Barry worked the ball to Milner who curled in an unbelievable cross from right on the touchline and Defoe timed his run into the 6-yard box perfectly, throwing a sort of mid-air Spiderman pose, allowing the ball to hit his shin and bulge the net. He did his best to miss it, mind- aiming it right at the keeper who got both hands to it but couldn’t tip it away, the pace on Milner’s cross making all the difference.

Pleasingly, we kept going for it. Another fine Milner ball into Defoe ricocheted into Lampard’s path who blasted over an unguarded goal with his left, unlucky for England that it didn’t fall to Gareth Barry’s left foot instead. Gerrard was heavily involved and tended to keep his position on the left (coming inside to cross with his right foot as usual) but he ventured infield to fashion England’s next best chance; he and Defoe forcing a fine double save from the impressive Handanovic, with a nice bit of coolness from Rooney in between.

The good work continued as the 2nd half commenced. Defoe should maybe have scored with a deft flicked effort that went past both the keeper and the post and shortly after, some intricate build-up play around the box led to a narrowly-offside Rooney setting Defoe up for a disallowed tap-in. Terry then had a fierce header from a corner beaten away by the keeper, Lawro getting his real-time and replays muddled by saying; ‘That’s a super header, this.’

Fucking Lawrenson… he did his best to ruin my enjoyment of the game with his crappy deadpan attempts at humour. Watching a replay of a Slovenian clipping an English ankle, he said; ‘He just got a little tap… could’ve been a plumber.’ (Groan! Boo! Hiss!)
Then, seeing two England fans in the crowd dressed as medieval knights, the cringeworthy prick couldn’t resist but pipe; ‘They’re having a nice knight’, during a sunny mid-afternoon, I might add. Guy Mowbray didn’t help either, being only too willing to play his comedy sidekick. Lawro reckoned ‘Watching England play is like a cure for constipation’, which prompted Mowbray to reply; ‘I wondered what that was!’
I mean, really…
“Dear Points Of View, why oh why must the BBC insist on helping conjure up images of Mark Lawrenson’s stodgy turds around teatime on a Wednesday?”

Then this goofy, guffawing, gantry-dwelling double act retorted, after the ref had awarded a soft free kick;
‘That one was deemed overly-aggressive.’
‘It’s called ‘tackling’, Guy.’
‘No, I’m with you, Mark.’
‘Yeah, I had noticed.’
B’dum, tish! Priceless comedy gold!
Even Lineker had to end the coverage with; ‘Defoe is ‘da friend’ of every Englishman!’
Give it a rest, fellas…

This is more Lawro’s forté, back in his ridiculous muzzie days:

Meanwhile, back on the pitch, Rooney looked very bright, a dozen times better than last Friday but still a little way off his unplayable world-beating best. It was good to see him put the hard yards in when he chased a long goal kick down the left flank, cleverly cutting the ball inside around the covering defender before it went for a throw-in, but nobody had managed to get up and support him. The crowd fully appreciated his efforts though and chanted his name en masse. He then had a great chance to seal the game, finding himself with the ball at his feet 12 yards out, only to scuff his shot and allow the keeper to flick it onto the post, Rooney perhaps expecting to be flagged offside.

Late on, it appeared England might begin to rue all these missed chances when Slovenia went too bleedin’ well close for comfort. We gave away a few niggly free kicks that might’ve seen a less lenient ref handing out yellow cards like Quality Streets then, after a Dedic knock-down, Novakovic had a shot brilliantly blocked by John Terry then Johnson kicked away Dedic’s effort as Terry bravely dived to try and get his head in the way of the shot, showing the kind of ‘body on the line’ determination and commitment we English love to see. Finally, right near the end, Upson came up with another superb block tackle to deny Matavz an unlikely last-gasp leveller.

Then, the pace-quickening potential for pants being papped finally ceased as the ref put everyone out of their misery and that lovely warm glow of group-stage qualification began to properly kick in. All in all, a fantastic performance and one that proves we can play well under intense pressure when required to. Capello said afterwards, in his own fragmented, pidgin way; “I want to see this team, this spirit, play together, fight together… The mind now is free, without fear, we play with freedom.” Let’s hope so, Fabs (as I’m sure he’d hate being called).

Everyone played their part and dug in for a famous win but Capello’s decision to recall James Milner was especially vindicated. He continued to put in some cracking Beckham-style crosses, worked hard to wrestle back possession when we didn’t have the ball and used it wisely when we did. I’ll try not to overplay the ‘local Leeds lad’ influence but I’ve always admired James Milner. He was impressive enough as a scrawny teenager at Leeds and I was saddened to see him leave (along with all our other best players), but since joining Villa, the way he’s worked on his game, looked to continually improve and built himself up into a strong, sinewy ‘play-anywhere’ powerhouse has been a credit to professionalism. He’s never drunk alcohol either which, for a handsomely-paid high-profile professional sportsman, shouldn’t come as a shock but for an English footballer, is something to respect and marvel at.

As well as the players, the England supporters played a blinder too, by the sounds of it. The massed ranks cheered and were encouraged by every small passage of positive play and of course displayed their customised St. George’s flags as usual. Yorkshire was well represented with one flag saying both ‘Wakefield’ and ‘Sheffield United’ (must have something against Leeds), another from Rotherham and one that read ‘Ponte Carlo’ (the local nickname for Pontefract, in the same way that Castleford is ‘Cas Vegas’) and, just to be precise about where they’re from, two postcodes: LS25 and WF8. The most intriguing one I saw had S.P.F.C. on it and I can’t for the life of me think which club this is. S.P.?? Sao Paulo is the best I can come up with. Answers on a postcard please.

Aside from the multitude of banners, it was palpable just how good- and presumably inspiring- the support was by the way the England Supporters’ Band honked their trumpets and trombones above the cacophony of those vuvuzelas and, inappropriate though I think it is as an exclusively English anthem, to hear the strains of ‘God Save the Queen’ sung so loudly and as fervently really did instil a sense of pride.

At how many other games in this World Cup have you being able to hear the crowd singing in unison so stridently? I recall the Mexican fans having a good old singsong during the France match but from my goggled-eyed settee perspective, we’ve topped the supporters’ league. Even those famous Brazilian samba rhythms have been conspicuous by their absence. Our brave knobheads done us proud!
Or perhaps the usual England match knobheads have stayed at home, kept away by an anti-hooligan initiative that actually worked, as the police and locals in Port Elizabeth had nothing but nice things to say about us (although it might well be a different story in Bloemfontein against the Germans).

Oh yeah… Shit… It’s the Germans next. We always assumed Germany would win their group and that we’d need to do the same to avoid them in the 2nd round, and so it proved. You could argue that we were unlucky, what with the USA’s winning goal coming so late on to stir things up but ultimately, everyone expected the Americans to beat Algeria (imagine the reaction back home to being beaten by fuckin’ Muslims, maaan!) and it was the failings in the other games that counted against us; Green’s oafish error and the whole Algerian debacle. I’m unsure as to whether we’ll beat Germany but don’t think we’ve got anything to fear, especially with all the added spice and extra incentives that come with this particular match-up. It’s more the other countries we’ll face further down the line should we beat Germany that worries me: Argentina, Spain then Holland or Brazil in all probability. Gulp!

Despite the fact it was only a narrow 1-0 win against a low-ranked, sparsely populated country, I’ve been ultra-positive about the Slovenia result but I really don’t think we have a chance of winning the trophy and that will be our own fault. Had we topped the group, we’d only have to overcome any two from Ghana, South Korea and Uruguay to earn a semi-final place but now… well, if we do win it, nobody will be able to say we didn’t deserve it. Let’s just see what happens against the Germans, eh?
Das ist ein krucial crunchenmatcher, ja?