Sometime last year* I penned my thoughts on Steve McClaren’s ‘new’ England, reflecting on the then incoming coach’s dizzying PR onslaught as he attempted to make his mark in his new role by distancing himself from the ‘failures’ of the Eriksson era and his insistence that he was about to do things his way.
*(September to be precise – very good it was too – click here to re-read: - ed)

I noted then that after three leaden-footed wins “sterner tests, away to Croatia, Israel and Russia, will tell us a great deal more”. And so it has proved. A meagre harvest of a single point from these three away ties – and a diabolical home draw against Macedonia - has left England’s goose gently simmering. If Russia take three points in Israel, it will be well and truly cooked.

While this is still not quite the forgone conclusion that the more hysterical sections of the press (and me – brow-beaten ed) would have you believe, there is a marked tendency in football for teams still involved at the business-end of any campaign to get a result against those with nothing to play for. Israel - normally a flinty, obdurate proposition at home – should be there for the taking.

And so will end McClaren’s brief but inglorious reign. A shame really, I was beginning to like him. He’s already scaled the same heights as Taylor in terms of non-qualification and you got the sense that with Steve really beginning to hit his straps, we could actually look forward to many years of serious underachievement.

That was the one great thing about McClaren. Fans instinctively knew his level. In fact, after Moscow, most couldn’t summon up rage or anger. They give you a world-weary, told-you-so shrug of the shoulders and a meek smile. It’s McClaren. What did you really expect?

Not that our man was throwing in the towel in the aftermath of Moscow. Absolutely not. The BBC sent in Ray Stubbs to ask the hard questions. This was a bizarre match-up, a battle of two straight men (think Sid Little against Tommy Cannon)

Steve wasn’t conceding anything: the lads were hurting, he couldn’t have asked for any more from them players, we were coasting and it turned round so sudden, Israel won’t be an easy game. You got the feeling that the coach would clutch at absolutely any straw going. Perhaps the Russians will get a couple of points deducted for crimes against hairdressing. You can but hope.

As the succession battle already starts to rage in the press, there is no shortage of fancy names already being put forward. But you somehow feel now that the job of England manager is such a poisoned chalice that no-one who really values their reputation would really want to get involved.

Mourinho is being touted in some quarters. A fine manager with a great track record. But Jose’s also smart. He knows that you can’t polish a turd or put lipstick on a pig. I suspect he’ll wait for an easier gig.

O’Neill and Big Phil will enter the frame, of course, as well as the usual suspects from the ‘he may be rubbish, but at least he’s English’ camp. Big Sam, Curbs - hell, Harry Redknapp might even get a mention.

But you can’t help feeling that the real winner out of all this is Svennis. The revisionists are having a field day with Manchester City enjoying previously unimagined heights. The Swede has even found time to keep the front of the papers busy by bagging himself a new squeeze.

Sven was derided, scorned and ultimately sacked because he lacked passion and was a bit dull. And he always failed at the quarter-finals.
If the cream of Europe’s footballers gathers next summer without England, I think we’ll look back just a bit more fondly on Sven.

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