There was a strangely poignant moment at Wembley with 87 minutes gone, as Harry Kane was presented with a golden opportunity to score his second goal of the night, a chance made all the more poignant by his desperate desire to do so with England already leading 5-0. It was heartbreaking mainly because of the way Kane reached down to accelerate, only to find nothing, as if he were suddenly running backwards through time, with wind chimes tinkling in the background. The finish was rushed and too close to the goalkeeper, leaving Kane flat on his face. Yet, he didn’t stop, continuing to pass, point, and lead his team of youngsters until the final whistle. Perhaps next time, he can wear his Bobby Charlton top and still take all the penalties. Or maybe not. Time catches up with everyone eventually, and there was something palpable beneath the crowd's hum each time Kane took the ball, visibly rearranging his legs like a pantomime horse setting off on a trot, the creak of the clapper, the distant bell's clang.
This game will be remembered as Carsley's farewell. The interim manager is clearly a good thing, a company man yet bold in his choices and encouragingly ruthless. England has gained some sparky young players. Most significantly, they have also shed the notion of themselves as doomed to carry Kane as an immovable weight, ever-present from game to game like a decaying battle standard. On this evidence, plus the painful spectacle of the summer, it is time for a refresh. England has set themselves the goal of winning a World Cup in two years’ time. They aren’t going to achieve this with a center-forward who can’t move anymore. This phase has surely run its course.
How will it play out? The past week has seen a feistier Kane, dropping truth bombs in front of radio mics. Interestingly, before this game, there were different takes on what happens next. Kane made it clear he’s very good pals with the new manager, who is, in case there were any doubts, a close personal friend, conjuring a vague yeah-she’s-from-a-different-school-you-wouldn’t-know-her vibe. Carsley, by contrast, talked phlegmatically about “giving Thomas options”, with an element of cold war messaging. Kane’s dropping against Greece is a clear gift to his successor.
He had the chance to make his case from the start, which made tactical sense against opponents England were expected to dominate territorially. It was, though, a really terrible opening. Wembley had been chilly and still at kick-off. The first notes of the pre-match God Save the King drew a huge droning noise from the Irish end, met by an even larger droning noise from all three England sides, which may, on reflection, have just been more God Save the King. Kane did nothing for 15 minutes. Then he did nothing for a bit more. Unless specifically stated otherwise, it is safe to assume Kane was doing nothing for the entire half. Instead, he chugged sedately, carrying with him that air of stately authority, like a ceremonial city mayor with a gold chain round his neck, off to stand near the winning courgette display for the local newspaper.
For a while, England noodled about playing the ball carefully between their interlocking segments. It would be tempting to call this classic gentle Sunday night entertainment, Heartbeat with a ball. Except, stuff did actually happen in Heartbeat. Conor Gallagher at least ran with a doomed prison-yard exercise hour sense of purpose. The score was still 0-0 at the break, at which point Kane’s breakdown read: 11 touches, zero shots, dribbles, crosses, tackles, or headers won. He was definitely out there. Like the moon landings, we have footage. But this was Kane as an absence, a ghost in the machine, falling between the numbers.
Kane did help to break the game open 10 minutes into the second half, dropping deep and producing a fine pass for Jude Bellingham, who made a lovely diagonal run behind the Irish cover, then found himself upended as Liam Scales hung out a leg. A second booking brought a heartbreaking trudge off. Kane took the penalty. It was 2-0 three minutes later thanks to Anthony Gordon’s volley. Three minutes later it was 3-0, a tap-in from Gallagher. And by now the evening had descended into a parlour game exercise in guessing who could score the next goal (answers: Jarrod Bowen and Taylor Harwood-Bellis).
And so England are guaranteed promotion from Nations League Group B, which is a thing. Two questions present themselves. Why was Thomas Tuchel not here? What could he possibly be doing that took precedence? All-day bottomless brunch? Hair transplant recovery period? Day of the Jackal marathon? Plus of course there is now the Kane conundrum, which really shouldn’t be a conundrum for anyone with a set of eyes. This game is cruel. It will take its bite in the end. Kane has been the defining player of this successful era. But this team needs new energy, and Tuchel has a very clear opportunity now to make that change. Time, please, time.
Source link: https://www.theguardian.com
