England held to score draw against Hungary in World Cup qualifier.

 England held to score draw against Hungary in World Cup qualifier.

This might have come as a minor shock to the system. It had all been going so well up until now. England were on course for a pleasant winter break in the deserts of Saudi Arabia. At the end of next year, England would be cruising comfortably towards the World Cup Finals in Qatar. If you discount the likes of San Marino, Andorra and Albania then the only obstacle that might have been in their way was psychological. The fact is that Gareth Southgate's men have now regained their composure after defeat in this year's Euro 2020 Final against Italy and a clean bill of health has been confirmed. Surely nothing could them stop them now. 

And yet last night at Wembley England seemed to have run out of steam and the procession has come to a brief standstill. But before we go any further this could be the time to tell you that there is no cause for alarm. The engine seems to be faltering and defective while the motor isn't purring as efficiently as it had been recently. This was bound to happen sooner or later since it would be foolish to assume that England would have their own way throughout these World Cup qualifiers. 

Last night England had clearly run out of attacking ideas despite an impressive looking, attack minded team, a side in fact that came so agonisingly close to winning the Euros. But in their 1-1 draw against Hungary, there was something missing, a nut or bolt perhaps, a loose connection, something not quite right and it was hard to put a finger on it. Maybe England have just peaked in a World Cup qualifying group that always seemed a formality anyway, a piece of cake. 

In the corresponding fixture in Budapest recently, England had gone about their business quite ruthlessly and positively. Hungary were eventually humiliated, exposed, put to the sword and suffered at the hands of an England team who were in no mood to show any leniency. Goals have come quite easily to England but when you have Andorra and Albania on your menu, there can be no sense of foreboding. You just tuck into your feast, open up the heart of your opposition's defence in the way you would unlock a door and then help yourself to as many as goals as you want. Hungary were not in the mood though for public embarrassment. 

Their approach to last night's game had been in marked contrast to their feeble and naive performance at home to England. Hungry attacked England with a ferocity and intensity that hadn't been noticed in the Puskas Arena. Instead the Hungarians carried the game to their hosts with a verve and vitality that was quite clearly missing in Budapest. At times Gareth Southgate's men looked suitably taken aback by a Hungarian assault that was often destructive but lacking in the killer touch that might have unsettled England.

What we had last night was an England side who must have taken their feet off the pedals, pulled into a motorway service station, filled up with petrol and then discovered a leaky carburettor. Sometimes watching England in recent times has been like listening to some calming meditation music where the sea gently laps against the shore, the wind chimes tinkle merrily and you then relax. You're then lulled into a false sense of security. 

Last night didn't quite go according to plan. There were pieces of paper missing, lines seemed to be crossed and the picture wasn't quite as clear as it should have been. Their football was smooth, effortless, almost laid back and perhaps a little on the lethargic side if truth to be told. There was a dangerous presumptuousness to their approach to this game that may have to be altered drastically before Albania think there is something even more amusing than Norman Wisdom. 

There was no arrogance about England's performance last night. It was just that Hungary looked as if they meant business. Of course they were never likely to showboat their way to a stunning 6-3 victory in the way they had done  in 1953. Besides, England had other things on their mind such as Sir Gordon Richards galloping to victory in the Derby and Her Majesty the Queen on Coronation Day to look forward to. And lest we forget Mount Everest had also been conquered as well. 

By the time the game had reached the half hour mark Hungary were going about the task in hand with fluent, pleasing  movements that shocked the hosts. They were breaking through the English lines with a tenderness of touch and feeling for the ball that must have upset the best laid plans of mice and men. England were being bundled off the ball, shrugged aside and, for the first time in what must have seemed ages, outplayed and seriously challenged. Their passing game was reminiscent of the way England had dominated matches against Germany, Ukraine and then Croatia in Euro 2020.

Hungary were now playing like a team possessed, winning the first and second ball decisively and linking together as if they'd known each other since birth. There were kindred spirits in Hungarian red as opposed to the team who looked genuinely frightened in the first game against England. Hungary had signed an entente cordiale and their display last night proved that they were well organised. as well.  They were credible opposition, determined to show a more sociable side to their character. 

England, for their part, looked spooked and unsure of themselves, a side who have effectively reached the World Cup Finals in Qatar but maybe in need of confirmation. They are now only three points ahead of Poland and Hungary and that does sound quite disconcerting if Albania's victory against Hungary on Saturday is taken into consideration. This is not to suggest that Albania will suddenly turn into either Poland or Hungary overnight but football can often point the fickle finger of fate when your guard is down. 

Then half way through the first half, a sustained spell of Hungarian possession was promptly rewarded. After moving the ball with a much greater intent and precision than had hitherto been the case, Hungary unexpectedly took the lead with the game's opening goal. Luke Shaw, who had been the hero of the hour when he scored England's opening goal in the Euro 2020, now had a rush of blood to the head. With the ball bouncing in the England's penalty area, Shaw wildly lunged for the ball and almost decapitated the head of a red Hungarian defender. He didn't quite knock out his opponent but Shaw's leg was sufficiently and dangerously high. Roland Sallai, Hungary's man of the moment, struck the penalty, missed but followed up with the rebound to score. 

At this point the usual customary nervelessness that Shaw, Kyle Walker, Tyrone Mings and John Stones had normally demonstrated at the back, seemed to be reduced to a quivering wreck. There was a tentative jitteriness in their distribution, a reluctance to play the simple ball. Declan Rice continues to provide his colleagues with a most formidable shield, a defensive tower of strength. Rice seems to act as a marvellously protective screen, assigned to act as the man to do the simple things without any fuss. 

This time Rice had his comrade in arms Mason Mount for company. Mount is a technically adroit player who can keep the ball on the move quite thoughtfully, a cultured and assured figure. But Mount, by his own admission last night, was not the Mount of Euro 2020. Of course Mount looks both poised and controlled but against Hungary, the Chelsea midfield player had none of the majesty of the late Ray Wilkins in his Chelsea heyday.

Then there was Phil Foden, Manchester City's most educated midfielder since perhaps Colin Bell. There was something about Foden that brought Bell to mind. Foden is forever hunting out the impeccable pass, the ball that floats towards its recipient with supreme accuracy. Foden's passing was faultless, a player with an engaging presence, highly influential, a man on a mission. His consistent use of the diagonal, long ball to his responsive colleague in a white shirt, always gave England a focal point. 

Meanwhile Harry Kane, England's captain once again, looked like a man who had lost his way. Kane is without a goal for Spurs at the beginning of the new Premier League season and was a lumbering parody of the striker who had illuminated the World Cup in Russia so brightly three years ago. The Spurs striker still looks sluggish, heavy legged, threatening to score occasionally but then, dare we say it. lackadaisical at others. 

Raheem Sterling, Manchester City's sleek and streamlined winger who can still be deadly and electrifying when the mood takes him, wasn't quite up to speed against Hungary. Sterling can terrorise defences with sinewy, sinuous dribbling that can strip defences to shreds. But the Sterling feet were not quite as lithe and sharp as we've come to expect of him. That low centre of gravity has often left defenders gasping for oxygen, a twisting, twirling, swirling, swerving and swaying attacking force but last night Sterling seemed to lacking any kind of currency or value. 

And as the match progressed England seemed to be constantly searching for the right verbs, pronouns and metaphors that would have made their game so much easier to understand. The ball, that had once come to be regarded as their closest ally, had now become their worst enemy. Rather than the friendliest of liaisons, England were now not on speaking terms with the ball. At moments there were satisfactory echoes of their 5-0 hammering of Andorra but then we were never likely to witness lightning striking again. 

Then with half time looming, England were back on level terms. A splendidly flighted free kick from the here, there and everywhere Phil Foden was swung high into Hungary's overcrowded penalty area. A huddle of England defenders were queuing up at the far post. The ball sailed on and on towards John Stones, Manchester City's dependable defender and Stones, from a flick on from another England head, lunged at the ball and passed the ball into the net for England's deserved equaliser. 

The rest of the second half almost fizzled out like a firework on Guy Fawkes night. England almost seemed to vanish into a foggy obscurity. Their intentions had now become worthy but the bite was missing, the appetite had been dulled and there was a sad acknowledgement that they had gone as far as they could. There were occasional shafts of light and encouragement but by now Hungary had shut up the gates and used as much anaesthetic as they could to deny England anymore involvement in the game. Sorry Gareth Southgate. This was not the night for showcasing new waistcoats. England are almost there but not quite. In Gareth we have faith.