Memories of 1973 and revenge is sweet 48 years later.

 Memories of 1973 and revenge is sweet 48 years later. 

For a moment or two time was suspended and we were all back in October 1973. England had to beat Poland in a vital World Cup qualifier and West Germany awaited Sir Alf Ramsey's sweat soaked heroes a year later. We were about to be launched into a revolutionary era of flared trousers and platform shoes, England was still a country in a horrible, industrial slump, the economy was teetering on the brink but Edward Heath was still sailing boats and conducting orchestras with some vigour. 

Then thoughts turned to that match itself 48 years ago when the whole of England assumed that nature would take its course and that the national team would just close their eyes and walk into another World Cup Finals, hot on the heels of a World Cup in Mexico three years before. Then Sir Alf had been overwhelmed by a rush of blood to the head by tampering with a team destined for greatness yet again only to fall on his sword by taking off his most important players when England were cruising to victory against West Germany.

Roll forward to the present day and there were no Polish clowns at Wembley and this time England remembered their 3-0 thrashing of Poland during the 1986 World Cup when Gary Lineker applied the coup de grace, the killer finishing blows that saw off the Poles in no time at all. England now re-captured that Mexican moment in the sweltering heat with another outstanding display of confident passing that looked as though it might have fizzled out in the second half only to be re-kindled ten minutes before the end. 

England's qualifying matches for both Euro and World Cup tournaments have almost become absurd formalities where the opposition almost seem to give up the ghost as soon their coach parks outside the entrance to Wembley Stadium. On Sunday Albania were somewhat laboriously swept aside by Gareth Southgate's team and in the first of the double headers, San Marino were given a disdainful brush off. There are times when you simply know what's going to happen because some things never change when the talk turns to the national team. 

Last night England met Poland against a familiar backdrop. For just a second they had flashbacks to the traumas experienced in 1973 and then consoled themselves with the 3-0 victory in the World Cup tournament meeting in 1986. This time England read through the script and discovered that although the theme was the same, the environment they were playing in belonged to an age when Wembley used to accommodate 100,000. This was no such occasion. The mood was one of almost commiseration. 

In 1973 Sir Alf Ramsey's job was on the line as manager while 13 years later Sir Bobby Robson briefly thought he'd cracked the code in Mexico before slumping in despair by a Mexican hotel poolside. It took a moment of Diego Maradona magic and sorcery to finally topple Robson's England in the 1986 World Cup. 

And so we came to last night's World Cup encounter with our Polish allies, a meeting of technical minds with the same World Cup objective. Irony often collides into irony and history has a mysterious way of repeating itself. England, for most of the game last night, had Poland in the palm of their hands, putty in their hands, ready to launch another bombardment of quality attacking football to make the eyes water. This was England masquerading as France, Germany or Brazil, a passing masterclass, a street parade of passing, a stunning kaleidoscope of short, sweet passes among each other, a necklace of passing perfection, a nectar of Nirvana.

For a while it all looked as though it may have been going nowhere. But then there was a collective belief  that finally those flurries of movement on and off the ball, the intuitive understanding, appreciation of space, the cohesion and understanding would pay dividends. Then as if on cue, Raheem Sterling gave another demonstration of his repertoire. The Manchester City winger is slowly turning into Sir Stanley Matthews and Tom Finney from a 1950s Pathe Newsreel while also reproducing Peter Barnes and Steve Coppell from a 1970s and 1980s vintage. 

After a lengthy period of sustained domination and deeply attractive cameos that had colour and idealism running through it, England handed over the baton to Raheem Sterling. The Manchester City flank man who can do no wrong for his Premier League title chasing club at the moment, took off on a mazy, weaving, dodging, darting and thrustful run that pierced a gaping hole on one side of the Polish defence and his low centre of gravity was enough to dismantle his final defender who could only lunge helplessly at Sterling, hauling the England player to the ground. Harry Kane's firmly struck penalty straight through the middle was like a signature at the end of a letter. 1-0 to England.

It was only in the second half that the beautifully balanced and intelligent Phil Foden, also of Manchester City and Kelvan Phillips who could become a permanent fixture in Gareth Southgate's plans, began to disappear from the English midfield, sucked inexplicably into a wind tunnel before vanishing altogether. Phillips, lively and imaginative, combined neatly with the one youngster who has all the makings of forming England's  best and most consistently creative midfield combination for ages. 

Along with the Aston Villa playmaker Jack Grealish, not on duty last night but available whenever his manager clicks his fingers, Mason Mount is quick witted, perceptive, almost intuitive, a man with a telepathic awareness and a keen eye for a pass or goal. Graduating through Chelsea's youth academy, Mount has all the credentials for super stardom, a classically proportioned player who is barely out of his teens and whose potential is there for all to see. 

With Declan Rice, West Ham's sturdy defensive midfielder, cleaning and mopping up efficiently and stylishly at the back, England were still in control but stuttering from time to time. Then after much huffing and puffing, England took their eye off the ball. Poland began to work their way into the match, picking up loose England possession and carving out chances on the flanks, edging their way back into positive involvement in the game. 

Suddenly the red shirts flooded into English territory. A bout of English defensive sloppiness culminated in John Stones, uncharacteristically giving the ball away to Jakob Moker who promptly slammed the ball into the net past England keeper Nick Pope. With the minutes ticking away it looked as if England had lost their cue, their former rhythms disrupted by some unusual distraction. But then it came to be that all would work out in England's favour. 

There were minutes left on the clock when a deep, high, in swinging corner was lobbed high to the far post. John Stokes, as if redressing the balance for his defensive clanger that led to the Polish equaliser, headed the ball firmly back into the six yard area. The ball eventually came to the Manchester United stopper Harry Maguire who wrapped his foot around the ball and fired a low shot severely into the net for England's winning goal on the night. 

So Gareth Southgate raised his hands together to salute his team. England's schedule now is rather like a busman's holiday where preparations will be made for the European Championship being played around Europe in June- or so we hope it is. And then you gazed around an empty Wembley stadium, all solemn solitude and hoped in your heart of hearts that in a couple of months time, a fit to bursting Wembley will be seething with a vastly atmospheric English crowd. In the mood for celebration. It will happen. Of that we can be sure.