HENRI DELAUNY’S STILL GLEAMING

The football was good but the music was better. The White Stripes need never work again after ‘Seven Nation Army’ became THE theme of Euro 2008. A song that was the preserve of metalheads before the duo got really famous. Now THE song for Europe. Forget the Eurovision Song Contest winner (oh, you had). Enrique Iglesias? Pah! The secret of its success? Even that fine upstanding press agency ‘Reuters’ admitted it. You could sing it p***ed.

The football was, of course, better than good. Whether it all amounted to the best Euros ever isn’t something that the British footballing public can judge. The 1984 Championships are generally considered the best. But without Home Nations involvement, our television people deemed the whole event a non-event. The BBC only showed the final live after highlights of the France/Portugal semi-final introduced our nation to a game we scarcely knew existed, let alone were able to play.

It is a co-incidence, though, that this year’s tournament has been both the best Euros since then and the first one to be similarly divested of UK involvement. Had England improved as radically as Russia between qualification and tournament then they might even have beaten Sweden for the first time on colour telly and lost to Holland on penalties in the quarter-finals. But with Steve McClaren in charge?

Still, so what when an honorary Englishman has won the thing single-handedly (Cesc Fabregas, in case you didn’t recognise him from the description)? Howard Webb would have refereed the final if the Poles had stopped banging on about that penalty decision. And Andrei Arshavin, the world’s greatest player for ten minutes, just doesn’t work hard enough to belong in the Premier League, so Barcelona can have him.

Best goalkeeper? Edwin van der Sar. A Mancunian. Best goal? Holland’s first breakaway against Italy, all Giovanni van Bronkhorst’s work. And he played for Arsenal for a bit. And don’t dare suggest that Fernando Torres was slightly off the pace throughout, even in the final. He missed one chance against Russia which, apparently, he saw late, was just at the wrong height AND the defender put him off. It couldn’t have been a bad miss. He plays in the Premier League.

But even a cynic like me can’t be cynical for long about the last three weeks’ football. It has been a joy to behold on a number of levels.

Most important, it was the Right Result. Germany were sawn off by some appalling refereeing in the final (Andy Townsend’s rant on Lehmann’s ungracious complaints about Signor Rossetti was undermined somewhat by Lehmann being right). But again, so what? Spain played so well that centre-half Carlos Puyol’s complete inability to run was barely exposed. And it must be the first time that anyone called Joan has won a sporting event since the Horse of the Year show in 1954.

Turkey were such stars that even Colin Kazim-Richards looked like a bona-fide international footballer, unlike the last London Turk to play in a Euro finals for them, Muzzy Izzet, who was clearly selected in 2000 for a bet. “Never, EVER write the Turks off” became the new ‘never write the Germans off,’ suggesting their semi-final would take forever.

Croatia and Russia gave lie to pundits who forecast early exits for them in the immediate aftermath of knocking England out (the Mirror in particular, if memory serves), although claims that their displays somehow made England look “not too bad really” lost all conviction as soon as they hit fresh air.

Holland were entertaining at both ends of the pitch, famously within seventeen seconds against Italy. Their first two games could have been hockey scores, even against France.

The co-hosts were in ‘plucky territory’ as quickly as feared but a little more entertainingly than feared. Switzerland’s Ludovic Magnin had Paul Simon’s face and Art Garfunkel’s hair. Unfortunately, he had Janis Joplin’s footballing skills. But they may have scraped a quarter-final if Alexander Frei had kept fit.

And Austria had the makings of THE footballing story of all time if they’d sneaked an FA Cup giant-killing style 1-0 on the Germans. Unfortunately, even Hans Krankl, the star striker in their 1978 Germany-beaters, would have been a more effective striker NOW than anything the contemporary Austrians could select. One goal in three games, from a controversial (though correctly-awarded) 92^nd minute penalty, summed them up perfectly.

There was little evidence from this tournament that Poland would be any better in 2012. That coach Leo Beenhakker had never won a finals game was a surprise. But only until Poland kicked-off. Calling them ‘pedestrian’ would have walkers everywhere suing. And having a striker named after Eusebio won the incongruity of the tournament award hands-down. Poland’s best player was Brazilian. And the best Polish players were in the German team, which summed them up perfectly.

The other bad teams got theirs. France (bar the desperately unfortunate Franck Ribery), playing holding midfielders against Romania when there was nothing whatsoever to hold. Greece, little worse than 2004 but with far less luck and an impostor in Angelos Cristeas’s shirt (CHECK). Howard Webb and his assistants, not sent home for THAT penalty decision but for the 94 crap ones which surrounded it. ‘Bleedin’ Ronaldo’s Portugal’ - what a preening tosser Ronaldo is; if only a percentage of the stories about him are true, he’s an unpleasant piece of work. And the worst team at the tournament? We’ll come to them shortly.

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