Italy are European Champions.

 Italy are European Champions.

And so the wait goes on. England dared to tread into the unknown and found that the light had been switched off, the electric cables had gone down and then they slumped into a corner, tearful, heartbroken, frustrated, devastated and once again denied the pleasure of their day in the sun or maybe that should read as a balmy night in the capital city of London. Oh to come so near and yet so far. It could be considered one of the more familiar narratives in the history of the England football team. Just when you thought you were almost there, it's simply snatched away from you and you're just desolate, inconsolable and dreadfully crestfallen. 

For the last 55 years the well documented tale has become almost tiresomely tedious and just wretchedly repetitive. It's rather like listening to your favourite record album over and over again just because it sounds good even if you know in your heart of hearts there are a million other things you could be doing. Last night for England the needle once again seemed to get stuck and there was a warped quality to the sound. It wasn't for the want of trying but England once again finished as gallant runners up.

True, for the last couple of weeks or so, England's exemplary manager Gareth Southgate has led his England team in quite the most dignified and utterly professional manner. When all is said and done, England did reach a Final of a major international tournament and that in itself is a highly laudable achievement. But then we face Monday morning and the reality hits us like a rabbit punch to the kidneys. England had lost the Euro 2020 final and that could only be construed as the ultimate failure. 

So what happened last night? The whole country had rallied around their country hoping against hope that it could be the turn of the England national football team to actually win a trophy. At first it felt like fond, wishful thinking, a quaint notion, a fantasy that would remain as such. We knew we had the players, the tactics, the framework and the structure. We knew we had the right manager because Gareth Southgate was one of us, feeling the pain, feeling the success, an instantly likeable, engaging and eminently charming, gentlemanly and honourable man. So why and how did it go wrong for Southgate? Good question. 

Your mind couldn't help but recall the look on Terry Venables face as Southgate prepared to take the now fatal penalty that ruined the morale of the whole of England. Venables looked on anxiously, bit a thoughtful lip and then turned his back in horror as Southgate just hit his penalty straight at the German keeper. Euro 96 came and went for both men and a golden possibility just became shattered glass for England. 

And yet last night it all felt so different and much more of a probability. Germany of course were, and always will be, formidable opponents for England. In Euro 2020 England finally beat the Germans after 20 years of gnashing of teeth, anguished moments on the edge of the sofa and that felt good, even fair. But there comes a time in a nation's life when the urgent necessity to win something in a one against one match or contest becomes all consuming. It could even be regarded as bordering on the obsessive. 

Germany were not, quite clearly, Italy of that there could be no doubt. The rivalries have different histories, dimensions and dynamics. Germany had become like those nasty, wicked villains of the piece who could never really be forgiven for the Second World War and were just awkward opposition. The Germans were just the proverbial pain in the neck, arrogant, insensitive and lacking in any sense of humour. They were just the Germans, obstinately unbeatable and too boastful for our liking. 

Italy, on the other hand, also had a murderous dictator with tyrannical intentions. For Il Duce, read Mussolini and rampant fascism. Italy though were not nearly as problematic or challenging as the Germans because they simply saw England as a private joke, school children in the playground who kept hacking the ball into the road and simply refused to play the game properly. According to the Italians, England were that one dimensional, functional and boring side who kept aimlessly thumping the ball into the air or deep into the opposition territory without any thought or consideration. What losers!

Last night though Italy were in a far more benevolent mood, far more compassionate and deeply respectful of the modern day England. After all, we've never objected to their spaghetti or pizza in the past so there was no need for resentment on a personal level. The Italians love their operatic traditions, they have an intrinsic flair for the melodramatic and of course they had won World Cups and Euros from way back when so the pedigree was there and so of course a certain stature in the world game.

Throughout Euro 2020 Italy were the surprise packages of the tournament, an unknown quantity, but boosted by the knowledge that they hadn't been beaten for well over 30 matches. This though was an astonishingly and uncharacteristically, positive, attacking Italy. In fact this was an extraordinary Italy, firing on all cylinders, sharp, snappy passers of the ball, keeping hold of the ball for lengthy periods, combining and conspiring as a team, moving the ball around instinctively and then striking lethally when it mattered most. 

In the opening game of Euro 2020 Italy had flattened Turkey, then eventually they came to their Mediterranean neighbours Spain and got rid of them most impressively. They also had the measure of  a wonderful Belgium side who, although individually brilliant, just couldn't match the Italians for their sense of adventure, their daring and their impudence. It was almost as if the Italians knew something that the Belgians hadn't really expected. But Italy have defied convention, changed perceptions and given the tournament a hot blast of fresh air. 

And then Italy reached the Euro 2020 final and it felt as though something had been released in them that almost came as a shock to our system. Admittedly, for the best part of the first half hour of last night's final the blue shirts were rattled, disturbed by something in the air, jolted out of their stride and not quite sure how to unravel themselves from the complexities of their own making. England were ransacking the Italians down the flanks and pushing them right back into their own half. It didn't help when England took the lead after only two minutes.

Luke Shaw, one of England's best players of the tournament, once again stole the headlines. Picking up the ball at his own full back position, Shaw galloped forward into attack almost immediately. Then captain Harry Kane became deeply involved. Kieran Trippier sped by on the overlap before sending over a pinpoint cross to Shaw who finished what he'd so brilliantly started with a low  and delicious half volley with a perfect follow through of his foot that flashed past the giant Italian keeper Gianluigi Donnaruma and into the net. 

From that point onwards Italy found themselves struggling to find their groove, the ease in possession that they'd demonstrated in the earlier rounds of Euro 2020 no longer there. There was a distinct jitteriness and nervous tension about the Italians that used to be so alien to their nature. They would continue to pass the ball around themselves in the most captivating fashion. But there was a clumsiness about them, a delicate fallibility about them that must have lulled England into a false sense of insecurity. 

But Kyle Walker, John Stones and Harry Maguire were strengthening the lock as a back three of England's defence. Walker was athletic, heroic, faultless, a powerful presence when he met up with his own attack and just impassable at all times. Stones and Harry Maguire would lope dangerously into the opposition half like intruders, confident and assured at all times. Then Kieran Trippier would bound forward, yanking open the Italians whenever the mood took him, stripping the Italians of their defensive belongings then side tracking Italy, pestering, probing, ready to take on all responsibilities.

Then we thought of the stabilising figure of Kalvin Phillips, the male intuition of Mason Mount who always seemed to be thinking and then analysing the pitch as if it were some ordinance survey map. Mount was constantly the driving force of England's midfield, scampering into space, collecting the ball and then building a much bigger picture of the game. Mount was beginning to derive an enormous amount of enjoyment out of Italian misfortune. 

Then there was Raheem Sterling, surely the man of the tournament for England. Sterling suddenly came to life when he privately sensed that the Germans had lost the plot and then the match. Against the Ukraine, Sterling was almost unstoppable, swerving, swaying, jinking and shimmying past defenders as if they were just feathers to be blown away. For Sterling this was just the right currency. Occasionally he would deliberately play for the foul and free kick just to keep England fresh and original. Then there was captain Harry Kane who once again looked as though he hadn't seen any daylight for ages. 

But Giovanni Di Lorenzo, Leornardo Bonucci and the wondrous captain Giorgio Chiellini who you really wouldn't want to disagree with. Emerson threw a disciplined blanket across the Italian defence. Once again Nicolo Barella had called on his considerable powers of invention and reinvention, curious, inquisitive, scheming, dictating the pace of the game while Chelsea's Jorginho just positioned himself in the right time and place. Up front Frederico Chiesa was in phenomenal form, dribbling his way forcefully at a rapidly dwindling and faltering English defence. 

Italy are at their most effective when the mood takes them. On Sunday evening, Italy were just out of this world, an inspiration to their country's children who may just want to follow in their footsteps one day. It was in the second half when the Italians opened up their deepest feelings, a heartfelt plea that really did resonate with the neutrals. It was almost as if the first half had just been some very bad dream where the evil bogeyman had threatened their peace. Italy were back in the thick of it all, full of mischievously creative football that left you wondering why they'd taken so long to impress us all. 

And so it was that the second half would exclusively belong to the Italians. It seemed that England had vanished into some far away land, their first half control now no more than a rumour. Italy were passing and passing again at speed then with a moderate tempo, slowly and quickly unfolding the English, toying and playing with the white shirts, poking fun and taunting England with an air of ridicule and derision. 

When an Italian corner was swung into the English penalty box, you knew that Gareth Southgate's men had lost their bearings. The Italians were in now in charge of proceedings. A ball was floated perilously towards the England's far post and blue Italian shirts pounced on English defensive hesitancy, Jason Pickford, the England goalkeeper did make an excellent save from Italian contact but Pickford couldn't stop Leonardo Bonucci from jabbing the ball into the net from close range. 

Extra time loomed and naturally followed. Nothing could separate these two old, seasoned troopers. Italy did enough to suggest that the English would never come anywhere near them again. The game fizzled out into the farcical penalty shoot out and we all knew that it just couldn't be England's night. Their body language had betrayed them appallingly in the second half, shoulders drooping and slouching, muscles aching for rest and relaxation. 

After a round of penalties with contrasting fortunes we reached the dreaded stage of sudden death. England briefly went crazy when Chelsea's Jorginho brought a glorious save out of Pickford and then it all went horrifically wrong for England. Marcus Rashford, who had won the hearts of the nation with his charitable acts at the beginning of the Premier League season, tried to wrong foot the Italian goalkeeper Gianluigi Donnaruma with a strange jiggle of his feet and hit the post.

Then the lively 18 year old Arsenal striker Bukayo Saka, who had just come on as a sub, did exactly the same as Rashford and seemed to place the ball very carefully at Donnaruma's hands. Italy had won Euro 2020. England had re-connected with its football team and there were definite signs of a rapport but if only they could win a trophy some day and some time. Oh England if only we could one day.