England beat Australia in friendly

 England beat Australia in friendly

At times England reminded you of a group of Victorian gentlemen languidly sipping from a cup of Darjeeling or Earl Grey tea, pompously turning the pages of the Financial Times before drinking from a vintage glass of brandy and then lighting up a Havana cigar while also adjusting their tweed smoking jackets for greater comfort. Gareth Southgate has always observed etiquette and protocol but maybe England were too well mannered against Australia.

At Wembley Stadium last night England quite literally went through the motions. This was football as sedate as a typically English game of croquet on beautifully manicured grass. It was football that was designed to send you off to sleep with sweet dreams. There were no vitally important points at stake, little in the way of any intensity simply a good natured kick about with coats for goalposts. Or that's the way it seemed.

It was just as well that this was merely a friendly otherwise questions would have been asked in the highest echelons of the game and fans would have been muttering angrily under their breath. Now the fact is that Australia, until fairly recently, would have been regarded as an end of pier seaside joke in footballing company. In fact distant memories would have transported you back to the 1974 World Cup in West Germany when they passed through the tournament like a gentle breeze without anybody noticing them.

But last night at the national home of English football,  Australia possessed nothing of the bludgeoning power of a Don Bradman, Ricky Ponting or Alan Border in the summer game of cricket. Their football was carefully organised, methodical and efficient but the guns were misfiring and the bullets bounced off the English defence, landing in no man's land. We tend to regard friendlies as the one we witnessed last night with a certain amount of healthy scepticism since this was a night of experimentation and that's perfectly understandable.

Next Tuesday evening England play a Euro 2028 qualifier against Italy confident in the knowledge that they are now within cheering distance of another major tournament. Your mind travelled back exactly 50 years ago now to that fateful night when a cautiously optimistic England met a Polish side who were simply at Wembley to make up the numbers. But then it all went haywire, rapidly descending into a shuddering anti climax, Poland taking the lead  with a fierce shot from Jan Domarski. True, Sir Alf Ramsey's men did equalise with a penalty from Leeds striker Alan Clarke but failure to qualify for the 1974 World Cup was preceded by the sacking of Sir Alf.

Four years later in another crucial World Cup qualifier against England's opponents Italy on Tuesday, England once again spiralled out of control. On the night, goals from Kevin Keegan and Trevor Brooking gave England the most comfortable of 2-0 victories at Wembley Stadium but this was a smokescreen because the mathematical equations decreed that England hadn't done enough to qualify for Argentina in the following summer's World Cup.

And so it was that we concentrated on an England friendly against Australia. It was Friday night, you'd just clocked off from your factory gates, finished off the urgent projects in your office, cleared up in your shop and then rushed off to the pub because this is the usual procedure. Football on a Friday night always seemed the most awkward piece of scheduling. Besides, who came up with the bright idea of international football on a Friday night when there's a good deal of socialising to do in your local drinking hostelry? Absurd or maybe not.

Still, we buckled up for the fairground and just held on for dear life. But this was very ordinary, totally mundane, annoyingly anodyne, dull, boring, predictable and, at times, almost lifeless. England had most of the possession and very rarely lost the ball but this was plodding, pedestrian, painstaking, agonising at times rather like pulling teeth. It may just as well have been a local park or recreation ground. There was no incentive to win and the match felt it was being played under a local anaesthetic.

England played well but there was a businesslike competence about their football that only just pleased the discerning eye since England have now mastered the art of passing the ball within close proximity of each other. There were picturesque short passes and decorative attacking patterns but there were times when the ball seemed reluctant to go any further than the 18 yard box. It was a comforting rather than stimulating watch since goals are the only currency at any level of football.

At the back, England's defence consisting of the hugely impressive Trent Alexander Arnold, the encouraging sense of adventure shown by Chelsea's Levi Colwill, Kieran Trippier is still running around like a highly energetic secondary school kid looking for approval. And then there was the evergreen Jordan Henderson, who for reasons best known to those in the England crowd, proceeded to boo Henderson. Presumably joining a club in Saudi Arabia is just unforgivable. But Henderson is still street wise, knowing, wise, thoughtful as ever and the most calming of influences.

And so England muddled through the first half like a gambler weighing up the odds at a roulette table. It was all very tidy, cautious and respectful. Dare you say that England simply weren't about to take this one too easily? No international football team can ever be pushovers but this was ridiculous. Australia were here in competitive mood and you suspect that even a game of tiddlywinks would have been a matter of life or death against England. So you settled down to watch a match that had little bearing on anything and almost felt like a postscript. Australia wanted to beat England of that there could be no doubt.

During an uneventful first half England seemed blissfully content to just spar and rabbit punch with Australia, occasionally jabbing but never probing. There was an air of blithe indifference about England's football that beggared belief. Back at the Garrick gentleman's club, they were snoring in their relaxing armchairs, newspapers draped carelessly over their laps wondering why on earth they were pursuing their interest in a friendly football match that meant nothing to anybody.

But England's midfield was still functioning, brimming over with verve and originality, vigorous and vibrant. The passes were sensible rather than dangerous, intelligent but somehow rehearsed in the dressing room. Jack Grealish was once again majestic, almost too instinctive for his own good, dribbling past defenders with an almost arrogant impertinence. He then held onto the ball for what seemed a life- time, dinking and jinking, dropping shoulders, stepping over, tricking his way deceptively past forests of Australian legs and tackles.

Then there was James Maddison, Tottenham's latest signing from Leicester City. Maddison was as immaculate, beautifully balanced and poised and pulling midfield strings like a puppet. Maddison, rather like his colleague Grealish, floated and flitted, fluttered and flickered, a butterfly in England's ever probing midfield, always a nuisance and constantly imaginative. He does seem like part of England's new Golden Generation, the throbbing heartbeat, the wheels and cogs in the productive machinery.

At Chelsea Conor Gallagher of Chelsea also tackled with venom and intent, a player of practicality, honest endeavour, efficiency and skilful touches that were pretty as a picture. Gallagher is no Tony Currie, Alan Hudson or Trevor Brooking at the moment that is but the potential is there. He fetched and carried the ball with a heartening persistence and covered enormous acres of the ground but does look the decent deal.

With newly capped Jarrod Bowen of West Ham, another England novice, challenging defenders with those mazy and serpentine runs England kept pressing Australia with magnificent menace. Bowen was joined up front by the ever athletic, pacy and exciting Marcus Rashford, Manchester United through and through and like a bulldozer at times, powering past Australian defenders as if they weren't there. All in all, this was the kind of performance that will never go down as iconic but will remain forgettable.

The winning goal came from one of those valuable sources which could become increasingly valuable in matches to come. Trent Alexander Arnold, now firmly established at Liverpool, picked up the ball just outside the Australia penalty area, ran forward and then chipped a superb diagonal ball towards Grealish who fed the ball back beautifully towards Aston Villa's Ollie Watkins, sliding in to prod the ball into the Australia net from close range.

And so England now face Italy in what could be the tastiest and spiciest Euros qualifier in recent seasons. Of course Italy will treat the game like the most dramatic of operas, always theatrical, always trying to gain some kind of advantage. There is admittedly little of the rough, tough and cynical about their football but this will certainly be decisive. It could be a mini classic and for those of a patriotic persuasion we must hope that the Flag of St Georges will be flying high on Tuesday night. It could be a cracker.