All the trappings can’t beat success

ALL right, so it hadn’t exactly been going to plan. Yes, England are through but at what cost to their psychological well-being.

Your so-called media is on the case all the time, giving it England should be winning, England should be this, England should be that, bladdy blah. But as usual they’re talking out their vuvuzela.

How many of them have come here, to a foreign country, been made to stay in a five-star hotel, have everything done for them, been waited on hand and foot, been fed perfect food with everything they need to hand? I mean, in the same circumstances all of them would tell the world to do one while they carried on putting their feet up round the pool, wouldn’t they? To go out and beat Slovenia 1-0 when you is mentally in the middle of a bleedin month-long holiday in a luxury spa is surely worthy of credit. That’s what JT and Big Frank and Carra and Stevie G was telling me when we met up by the team bus yesterday.

Least ways that’s what I thought Carra says. As usual, I lost him soon after he said “Dazza, go home and leave us alone”. Couldn’t understand a bleedin word. But I nodded anyhow. As you do when Carra talks at yer. As for JT, he’s right. Summat’s got to be done. And as long as the players have earned the right to not bother, that’s fine by me.

Course, yeah, I’ve been expecting the call. Darren Tackle is always there ready at a moment’s notice to serve his country, whatever the role (and provided the relative contracts have been ironed out with me agent first, obviously: hey, we all have to earn a living). As yet, the Blind Italian hasn’t had the courtesy to call, but Joe Cole came on yesterday proving he knows when to give up being stubborn so it could still happen for the big one against Germany at the weekend. And don’t come the old stuff about how England should have won by more last night against a team full of Alpine guides and bus drivers. I’ve seen where Slovenia is staying, and if I was in their hotel, I’d want to be out on a football pitch and all. With England, the luxury is just inhuman.

Anyhow, whilst he’s been waiting for the phone to chirrup (I’ve got Cheryl’s latest as me ring tone, thought it best in case she rang) DT has been far from idle. Me old mate Raymond the Frog called the other day and asked me if I wouldn’t mind popping over and helping out with Les Frankies. “Zere ees a beet of discontent wivvin de squad,” he tells me. “You are ze only man who can help.”

Popped over to their base, called a little team meeting, allowed a few words to be said and I think that cleared the air. Raymond seemed happy: just after I told Nic Anelka he was spot on and needed to get it all off his chest, Le Frog asked security to escort me from the room. Always got my safety at heart.

On the whole, seems to have worked. I think when Le Frog looks back he’ll realise my strategy was spot-on; ok in the short term the whole nation is ashamed of their team and losing 2-1 to South Africa wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but they’re well set up going forward, as they say, innit.

But enough of the Frogs, the Spicks, the Ities, the People’s Republic of Whoevers: what matters at this World Cup is how your English is getting on. This is what the world wants to know. What the English is up to is what keeps this tournament ticking, I can tell you. Everywhere I go people say to me: who are you and what are you doing here? Got it at the German hotel when I showed up to give the lads a bit of a pre-match pep talk ahead of their game with the Serbs. That coach of theirs, the geezer what looks like a model from the front of a knitting pattern yer grandma used to use, he was in my face straight away, giving it wanting to know why I was there. I told him, his lads needed a bit more than a lecture on correct washing temperature for cashmere, or whatever it is he gives them, and DT was the man to deliver. He seemed to take the hint. Leastwise, it was nice to get another escort to me taxi.

But basically what you all want to know is: Dazz, can your mates in the England camp pull something out the bag and do it against Germany? Listen, soon as my agent’s finished his negotiations with the editor here, I can tell you. Mind you, the way this lot are playing, you’ll be able to ask them yourselves after the weekend, when they’re safely back home.