Winner takes it all

How often does the best team win a tournament? A sense of destiny and a capacity to battle through can carry a team a long way so long as it doesn't become blind faith

Tournament football is strange. France were much better than Germany in the group stage of the women’s Euros. They scored 11 goals in their three games and played with a verve and attacking freedom that saw them beat both England and the Netherlands convincingly. Germany laboured to victory over Poland, scraped by Denmark and were hammered by Sweden. Yet it was Germany who prevailed against France in the quarter-final – and that despite having a player sent off in conceding a penalty from which they fell behind in the 13^th minute. If Germany lose to Spain in the semi-final, who had the better tournament? Germany because they got a round further, even though their one real achievement was their quarter-final resilience? Or France because they played well, and with style, in three games?

The same may be asked of England and Sweden. It’s true that they had a kinder draw but, still, Sweden played much better football than England: three wins out of three in the group, and then they had the better of the quarter-final for all but about 20 minutes. Which leaves England in a strange position: they’re in the semi-final and favourites to beat Italy, two games from retaining their Euros title – and yet beset by doubts and questions.

They were poor against France, fortunate to lose only 2-1, the balance of the midfield all wrong. Then, although they beat the Netherlands 4-0, it was startling how poor the Dutch were, how far they have regressed since reaching the World Cup final as European champions six years ago. Every time Alessia Russo dropped off, spun and ran into the channel for a long pass from the goalkeeper Hannah Hampton it caused chaos. Hampton’s kicking has been perhaps England’s greatest strength so far. Wales were then overwhelmed.

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But while thrashing weaker opposition may be good for morale, it doesn’t necessarily mean much in terms of winning tournaments. Portugal in the men’s Euros in 2016, winning only one game in normal time, may be an extreme, but there are plenty of sides who drag their way through tournaments seemingly by force of will. Germany, at least until 2006, the men’s World Cup they hosted and the collective decision that it was better to be loved than successful, prided themselves on being a Turniermannschaft – a ‘tournament team’, who got through whatever it took.

There was a sense of that with England against Sweden last Thursday. In the first half they were inexcusably sloppy. Passes went astray and defensive organisation collapsed. There was no coherence, little indication of an attacking plan. They could easily have been more than 2-0 down at the break. All the problems of the France game were there again; the sense was that the comfortable wins over the Netherlands and Wales had allowed a belief to foster that everything was fine, that the opening defeat had been less a warning of flaws than a freakish blip.

The second half was a little better, but there was no real feeling England might get back into it until Chloe Kelly and Michelle Agyemang came on with 20 minutes remaining. England went direct and Sweden couldn’t cope. Agyemang’s first two touches were almost laughably heavy; her next two were perfect – cushioning an awkward pass to maintain the momentum of an attack, and then calmly despatching the equaliser after Kelly’s cross had been knocked down.

The problem was then that England, having adopted a hyper-attacking shape to get back into the game, had little option but to keep attacking. They had chances to win it in normal time, but Sweden, having been rocked by conceding two goals in three minutes, settled, and were the better side again in extra-time. Once England had held on, though, they had a clear narrative advantage, and it was little surprise that it was their two walking wounded who were decisive, Hannah Hampton saving penalties with a wodge of bloody tissue up her nose, and Lucy Bronze removing strapping from her thigh to smacking in the key penalty.

It took England through, but made assessment difficult. Much of the discussion since has, understandably, centred on the racist abuse suffered by Jess Carter and while calls for social media companies to take stronger action are manifestly correct, they feel a vain hope; the direction of travel has, if anything, been backwards in that regard recently.

Beyond that, though, there has been a slightly worrying tendency to laugh off the display against Sweden, as though making hard of work it were an endearing trait. Which would be fine if that performance had been a one-off. Implacable self-belief is, after all, characteristic of champions. But the quarter-final was part of a pattern: recently, when teams have pressured them, this England have buckled. It may be that behind the scenes Sarina Wiegman is working on that. Or rather, she is almost certainly working on that; the question is how receptive the players are. Do they realise how fortunate they are to be in the last four or, as often happens with successful sides, is there an underlying sense that this is somehow their level and nothing needs fixing?

England may end up going far more direct in the semi-final against Italy although, well-organised as they have been, Andrea Soncin’s team are unlikely to press England as France and Sweden did. If they do reach the final, and it is Spain they face there, they will probably have to.

But alongside a tweak to the style, there needs to be a general sharpening up, a process that will be made harder if, as seems likely, the captain Leah Williamson is ruled out with her ankle injury. A sense of destiny, of somehow being a chosen team, can be hugely beneficial, but not if a team comes to rely on it or believe in it to an extent that it does not address clear tactical shortcomings.

Tournament football is strange. Win the final, and poor performances along the way are forgotten. Lose, however unfortunately, however well you’ve played and, while history may celebrate a side, it will be discussed always with a sense of regret. England are two games from glory, but they are also one game from ignominy and perhaps the first proper post-mortem the English women’s game has known.