It will all end in tears. Again.

Roy Hodgson or Harry Redknapp? Sober tactician or wise-cracking rabble-rouser? Cosmopolitan technocrat or salt-of-the-earth motivator? The question is largely irrelevant, or certainly less important than the far bigger issue of why on earth England found themselves in the position of appointing a manager six weeks before a major tournament.

How did it come to this? England’s final friendly before the announcement of the squad came in February against Holland under the temporary management of Stuart Pearce. It should have been a case of fine-tuning, of tweaking an existing system, perhaps of experimenting in one or two areas, looking to augment and improve the side that had carried them through qualifying. Instead we got the plucky England cliché as they fought back from two down only to be thwarted by a deflected last-minute winner: a brave effort from Psycho’s young lions. Pleasing fluency at times. The start of a bold new era for English football... as a response to a single game played with a youthful side under a caretaker manager, the press reaction made a certain sense. But the crucial thing was context.

It seemed to have been all but forgotten that in the last international break, England beat the world and European champions Spain and then ended a run of 43 years without a victory over Sweden. Yes, both games finished 1-0. Yes, the football wasn’t particularly thrilling. But it worked. England, at last, seemed to have accepted their limitations and played to the maximum of what it could achieve, defending stoutly and threatening with counter-attacks and set-plays. That’s how tournaments are won; it’s certainly how Fabio Capello, the great pragmatist, has achieved his success.

Nobody will admit it now, of course, but he was doing a good job. He had established foundations that, conceivably, could have made England challengers at the Euros.

For his departure and the subsequent farce, the whole culture of the English game is culpable. This has been an all-encompassing conspiracy of bloody-minded, belligerent and blinkered self-interest. Can anybody even remember what Capello did to make everybody loath him so? He didn’t have a good World Cup — that much is obvious.

But he was also undone by circumstance: the spat between John Terry and Wayne Bridge, the injury to Gareth Barry, Rooney’s extramarital dalliances. Even then, it took an astonishingly bad linesman’s call to prevent an unlikely comeback against Germany. Isn’t a manager of Capello’s experience entitled to one tournament to learn about the England team and, for that matter, international football?

Apparently not. The press turned against him and that was that. Whatever he did was portrayed as idiotic. He didn’t immediately drop every player and bring in youngsters. Well, he was, The Sun said, “a jackass”. Even when he slowly integrated new players and organised a side to beat Spain, people weren’t happy. Even against the world and European champions, apparently, England shouldn’t look to play defensive football.

And then circumstances lined up to undermine England further: Rooney lashing out to get a needless red card that means he will miss the first two games of the tournament. Terry allegedly racially abusing Anton Ferdinand, causing a spat with Anton’s brother Rio and leading to a court case that in turn prompted the FA to strip Terry of the captaincy. Capello’s defence of Terry was weird, given in nearly any other job somebody accused of racial abuse would be suspended pending the hearing, but he had every right to feel aggrieved at not being consulted. Why would the FA not consult him? It almost seems like deliberate provocation.

In the end, Capello didn’t need too much persuading to walk out: a rabidly immature football culture is doomed, whoever the manager is. He didn’t need the hassle and you wonder how long it will be before Hodgson realises the same.