Onwards and upwards

Well Friday night almost encapsulated everything about being an England fan, except if it had, the ending would have been far more miserable.

It could have been very different, however. As the storm clouds came over the Olympic Stadium in Kiev shortly before kick off, the fear was that we were going to suffer from the same deluge that had recently hit Donetsk, forcing the match between Ukraine and France to be abandoned, albeit for just one hour.

Roy Hodgson and the English support had more than the weather on their mind mid-way through the second half as Olof Mellberg scored a brace to put the Swedes into an improbable lead. But then Theo Walcott sprang from the bench to rescue the Three Lions and condemn Sweden to elimination as we now look optimistically towards playing Ukraine on Tuesday.

‘You're going home with the Irish’ was sang in the direction of the 20,000 Swedish supporters, outnumbering their English counterparts by almost three to one. This was not a feeling we are used to. Normally it is us who are the dominant force within the stadium. Even in Portugal in 2004, in their own stadium, we had more fans than our opponents. But here it was a sea of yellow and blue. That's the trouble: even the Ukrainians within the crowd seemed to be on the side of our opponents.

A fan's eye view: nervous times for the England faithful

It all used to be so different. Not since the cost of these trips became so extortionate that only the affluent Scandinavians can travel in their droves. And even they are restricted to a budgeted style camping arrangement.

Though there is the argument that the England team are so short in quality these days that I even brought my boots in the hope of a late call up, this could only partially explain the lack of numbers.

There is a feeling among the team’s support that we are more than happy to be here and a little resentful towards some sectors of the British media regarding the over-hyped violent nature of the host nations. This has not been in evidence whilst we have been here and long may it continue. ‘We’re not going home, we’re not going home, we’re not going, we’re not going, we’re not going home’… not til Tuesday at least.

Euro surprise

Yesterday was my first visit to the fan zone in Kiev and I wasn't disappointed. The camaraderie between the English and the Swedish supporters was excellent and I anticipate that relationship staying the same for tonight's game. It was certainly embellished by the Swedish band on show singing some Oasis classics. What ever happened to Abba?

What followed did come as a slight surprise as a middle aged woman came to me offering sex. When I declined she then said it was for money, perhaps expecting me to change my mind. I did not and I suggested she should head towards the Swedish contingent offering her services as they have more money than the English. She took heed of my advice and headed in their direction.

One disappointing footnote has to be aimed in the direction of the Official England Supporters bar where they are trying to exploit fans by charging relatively extortionate prices, three times that of just about anywhere else in the city, including the fan zone which it neighbours.

Mixed fortunes

Support: The fans in full voice against France

Taking an elongated route through Istanbul, I thought I would not meet so many England fans en route to the Ukraine. How wrong I was.

They packed out the sports bar at the airport, as they watched Ireland get beaten by Croatia.

The flight was, to put it positively, boisterous. To put it negatively, though, some of the fans’ abuse of the flight attendants was shameful.

England fans tend to reach both extremes. Having photos taken with the police as they exchange pleasantries and gifts brings a smile to the face. Seeing fans shout sexual and racial abuse towards anyone who gets in their way undoes all the good work of the majority. 

After all the build up surrounding racial prejudice in the Ukraine, it came as a surprise to hear the first chants of this nature coming from an English contingent on the flight over from Istanbul.

Anyway, on the day of the game things were much calmer throughout the industrial town of Donetsk as most of the support decided to chill out in the shade provided by the huge tents in and around the fan zone.

The rest congregated at the Golden Lion pub where they mixed well with the French supporters who had braved the conditions to enter into the zone where they knew the England fans would hang out. ‘Where were you in World War II’ chants were shouted across the bar whilst the French riposte of ‘Ooh ah, Cantona’ bemused this observer.

As the crowd left the English pub the first sign of trouble reared its ugly head as half a dozen Russian fans (The Russian border is just 100 kilometres away), wearing CCCP t-shirts, charged through where the England fans were walking and attacked an equally small group of supporters, proceeding to kick and punch some whilst they struggled on the ground. The incident was over in a matter of minutes and no one, thankfully, appeared seriously injured but there was the disturbing sight of policemen stood watching as the events unfolded.

The stadium was conveniently located just fifteen minutes on foot from the town centre and once inside the Donbass arena the English contingent soon found their voice. It was great to hear their support of the new England manager with frequent chants of ‘Roy Hodgson’s barmy army’ but the chalk and cheese element returned with other songs about ten German bombers and ‘We’re going home in a coffin’, in reference to Sol Campbell’s comments.

The game passed by fairly peacefully. Of course there was a delirious response to England’s goal, before realism returned when Samir Nasri equalised for the French.

And this in itself paraphrased everything you need to know about English football fans. Delirium followed by realism. Optimism followed by pessimism. Good humoured followed by poor taste. Welcome to Euro 2012.

John Terry does it again

Just when I thought John Terry couldn't be any more ridiculous the story of last week emerged. No, I don't mean his stupid dismissal in the Camp Nou that nearly cost his team so dearly but the proposal that, should Chelsea be successful in the final against Bayer, he should be allowed to lift the trophy.

How arrogant. How stupid. If Bayern need any extra motivation in front of their home crowd they should pin up on the wall a report of how Chelsea are discussing who they would like to lift the trophy.

If nothing else, their marketing/communications team, yet again, have dropped a clanger that is only rivalled by their decision to elect Peter Kenyon to lead up the team up the steps in Moscow in their only other Champions League appearance. The decision to elect a former employee of Manchester United, let alone a supposed devoted fan of the Red Devils, to take Chelsea to collect their medals following a penalty shoot out defeat was made more embarrassing by his opposite number: Sir Bobby Charlton. Old Trafford legend and Munich air crash disaster survivor on the 50th anniversary of the aforementioned tragedy against charlatan and soon to be dismissed employee. No contest.

For Peter Kenyon, read John Terry. I don't recall there being such a debate about Roy Keane's enforced absence from the 1999 final. The Irishman would have dismissed it out of hand straight away, and rightly so. He has even admitted some embarrassment  at receiving a medal, never mind lifting the trophy. In addition, his contribution in getting United to that final was in stark contrast to Terry's. The Chelsea centre back was deservedly sent off for a moment's stupidity whilst Keane was on the receiving end of a rather unfortunate yellow card, his second of the competition, ruling him out of the showpiece event. Keane then dragged his team into the final with one of the most selfless performances seen from a United player, scoring the goal that got his team back into the game to boot.

If John Terry has an ounce of dignity left in him, he will refuse the option to lift the trophy and hand over the task to stand in captain Frank Lampard. The fact that he has yet to put out a statement to say so suggests he is at least deliberating the possibility. I guess it is too much to expect of a guy that drives over people's feet in car parks, uses disabled car parking spaces at Tesco's and undermines managers at every available opportunity (even stabbing Jose Mourinho in the back).

Does Dalglish deserve people on his back, rather than some slack?

Within the last few weeks the temperature has gone from warm to white hot in the pressure cooker at Anfield and there are a variety of people who are in the firing line.

Firstly, Damien Comolli who, it seems, is largely responsible for the player recruitment policy currently undermining Liverpool’s challenge for a top four spot, something the club’s owners demanded at the season’s start.

Their purchases over the last year or so, Luis Suarez apart, have varied from the disappointing to the disastrous.

Charlie Adam started well but has faded and has proven himself to be a decent Premier League player, though not someone who is going to dictate games in the upper echelons of the division.

Charlie Henderson has been a huge disappointment, not least as he cost almost £20 million, which for someone who had had one senior cap to his name, seemed pricey at the time. He now appears to be worth less than half that and much like Adam, appears out of his depth at this level.

Stewart Downing has not supplied the ammunition worthy of his hefty price tag which brings us to the ultimate flop of all – Andy Carroll.

At £35 million, much is expected of you. A paltry return of eight goals in 48 appearances and a languid style is not (what is expected of you). Add to that an apparent disdain for hard work and it would not be surprising if he left Anfield this summer, perhaps along with one or two other senior figures.

Yet Comolli and the players are not the only ones in the firing line. The ultimate responsibility has to lie at the feet of their manager – Kenny Dalglish.

It is still not clear who is the one calling the shots when it comes to purchases but he certainly has some kind of say in who gets to see the 'This is Anfield' sign.

What is not in any doubt is who picks the team, who is largely responsible for coaching and trying to goad the best out of them on a weekly basis. This has been Liverpool’s biggest failing this season.

Add to that King Kenny’s handling of the now infamous ‘Suarez’ affair, which in some quarters has been described as “a car-crash”, and you can see why the owners are disgruntled.

Dalglish claims you need an intelligence test if you question the progress made under his tenure, yet the fact remains his points per game ratio is not too dissimilar to that of his much-maligned predecessor, Roy Hodgson.

So why was it enough for Hodgson to receive the boot but not the current incumbent? That is an excellent question and one that John Henry and his cohorts may just answer should, as now appears certain, they fail to qualify for next season’s Champions League.

Defenders of Dalglish, and they are plenty, will point to their first trophy in six years as evidence that this ship is more HMS Victory than Titanic.

However, to say that trophy was won in fortuitous circumstances is a slight understatement. The penalty shoot out victory over Championship side Cardiff was lacklustre and was achieved in spite of two misses from the spot.

Should Liverpool continue to plummet down the table further then Dalglish’s position will become untenable.