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England were through to the last 16, with a good shot at getting further, and then, well, who knows? Australia stood in the way, and it was going to be a rough affair to be sure, the Aussies renowned for their physical prowess. In Lucas and Bresciano they had players who could turn a game. Kewell on his day could win it off his own boot, and then there was always the wily veteran Viduka to content with.

Ferdinand would have him beaten for pace, but if push came to shove then Viduka was always a chance. Bresciano would have to be reigned in, and Mullins would be the man for the job, back in the anchor role he had excelled in, allowing Gerrard to play his favoured attacking game. No Scott Parker as yet, but he could be back for the next if England make it through to add much needed depth to the match day squad. The likes of Giddings, Schumacher and Kay had done well enough, but lacked the quality to really make a difference when it counted. James Kay was still a chance to pget a run, as he was always full of surprises and would provide a pair of fresh legs if Gerrard started to tire. Goma Lambu was also ready for a start, but was unlikely to edge out Lee Croft, who had done well after an average season with Man City. Croft didn;’t really have the same cutting edge to his game as Lambu, but you just couldn’t leave him out on form.

The only other change the Manager was considering was Dawson in for Welsh. Dawson had a habit of rampaging forward from time to time, something that Welsh was less likely to do. Welsh was the more complete player, but cutting edge was really what the Manager needed in the knock out stages.

The other positions picked themselves. Steele could not be faulted, Woodgate & Ferdinand had been exceptional, and Danny Webb & Stephen Gerrard nothing short of inspirational. Cole deserved at least another chance, but Mullins was a quality back up option if Parker regained fitness.

The press were singing England’s praises, and the Manager was content to sit back and take the accolades, as next week he could easily go from hero to villain in the space of 90minutes.

The Manager decided to answer all questions in tomorrow night press conference with clichés, just to see what happened, an idea that could surely only come to you at 4. a.m. and fairly bladdered, but funnily enough, no one picked upon it!

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2nd Round matches:

China 0 Czech Republic 2!

In a major shock, joint favourites China were eliminated from their home tournament by the unfancied Czechs, who were inspired once again by frontman Petr Postulka, one of the tournaments outstanding players to date. Postulka headed home a Milan Baros cross after 15 minutes, exposing a major deficiency in the Chinese game, an inability to deal with high balls into the area. A tight game was brought alight on 55 minutes as Jian Jung pushed Postulka on the six yard line as he tried to turn him inside out – the ref awarding a penalty, much to the dismay of most of the 102,356 fans at the Peoples Stadium, venue for the final in two and a half weeks time. Baros duly smashed home the penalty. China never really threatened after that, rattled by the creativity of the young Czech side. Angry scenes followed the game, with clashed between Chinese fans and their own security forces resulting in injuries and arrests. Bunting all around the city was torn down by tetchy citizens overnight, and the ciy seemed to lose its World Cup sparkle. The Manager, for one, was please with the result. China would have been an almost unstoppable force had they progressed.


Spain 2 Ireland 1.

A disappointing end for the Irish, who can rightly feel unlucky to have lost a game that saw them shade their more expensive opponents. A golden goal won it for the Spanish, Shay Given making a mistake that will give him nightmares for the rest of his days. Vicente had opened the scoring in the first half, a superb 65m ball from Puyol catching out the Irish defence, Vicente taking the ball past Given and slotting the ball home comfortably. The Irish had their opponents on the back foot after that, and the relentless pressure finally told as Keane was brought down in the area, Richard Sadlier converting the penalty to raise the roof. Spain came back but could not break through resolute defence. 1-1 after 90 minutes. It all came to an end however, 5 minutes later thanks to a terrible clearance by Given that fell straight at the feet of Reyes on the left, who had nothing in front of him except the hapless keeper. Reyed took the ball to the by line, and pulled it back into the path of Boris, the defender making no mistake from six yards to send the Irish packing. One mistake could cost you it all, reflect the Manager from the stands as the Irish players trudged off the pitch, heads bowed except for the occasional glance into the stands to applaud their plucky fans.

USA 3 Holland 1.

A superb performance from the Americans, stunning the perennial underachievers Holland with a display of pace, direct passing and awesome finishing. Landon Donovan played the match of his life, his pace, control and superb running taking him into space time and again, three ferocious shots from distance measured to perfection, keeper Stekelenberg with no chance. Adu and Henning put in impressive displays, but Donovan was the talk of the Cup, a player who really could win the World Cup off his own boot. Van Der Vaart had capped of a fine individual campaign (perhaps that was the problem, thought the Manager – too many individuals, not enough teamwork) with a free kick to level the scores on 31 minutes, but the result was never in doubt. The odds for the Americans shortened dramatically.

Argentina 0 Brazil 1.

A golden goal from man of the match Adriano after 95 minutes won it for Brazil, who had played superbly in an entertaining but inevitably free kick ridden tussle. Walter Samual missed a pass to let in Adriano, who finished with the ruthlessness that has stamped him as one of the best players in the world. And he showed it tonight. Disappointment for Argentina, who had their chances but didn’t take them. Dede and Kaka shone for Brazil, who’s quest was back on track well and truly. They would be very hard to stop now, and were clearly the most talented squad left in contention fot the grand prize, as always, so it seemed.

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It was wet & hot at Tiahne Stadium. This was the stuff dreams were made of. England, the current European Champions, up against World Cup holders Australia. Scores to settle still from embarrassing defeats many years ago for England at the hands of their Antipodean challengers.

The Manager stuck to his guns on selection night. Scott Parker was ready to play as was Goma Lambu, but both would join Welsh on the bench.

England: Steele, Cole, Ferdinand, Woodgate, Dawson, Mullins, Croft, Webb, Gerrard, Owen, Samba. Subs Kirkland, Welsh, Parker, Kay, Lambu, Rooney, Brandy.

Australia: Schwartzer, Moore, Foxe, Cooney, McClenahan, Kewell, Tracey, Emerton, Bresciano, Lucas, Viduka.

The Manager delivered a typically fire and brimstone speech before the game, the players realising the challenge ahead and responding with a stirring huddle and chant be4 sprinting out onto the pitch to a deafening roar. The Manager and his players were nervous, but trying not to show it. The Manager nipped into the loo, took a generous slug from his hip flask, then followed his players onto the pitch.

The game started at breakneck pace, both sides trying to assert their Authority. Danny Webb found himself in space within the first minute, but attempted to pick out Owen rather than shooting, Cooney easily clearing the danger. The Manager yelled at Webb to shoot on sight, forget the fancy stuff! Croft floated a good ball into the area for Samba to challenge the keeper seconds later, but Schwartzer was a match and rose above Samba (no mean feat) to clutch the ball to his chest. Samba was already worrying the Aussie defence with his pace, and it was a bright start by England.

Australia looked in better shape in the middle, and had the majority of possession, frustrating England, but Woodgate was on top of Viduka and Cole was all over Bresciano.

Samba created the first real chance after 23 minutes, his run and cut back to Owen cleared by the impressive Sean Cooney. Danny Webb missed a sitter from 5 yards soon after, the Manager leaping out of his seat and then stopping mid air as the ball flashed past the post. Samba was again the creator. After 34 minutes Lee Croft had a close range shot parried by Schwartzer after a goalmouth scramble, and England were well on top.

Ferdinand swung a corner in after 42 minutes, and Gerrard, fending off veteran Craig Moore, dived full length at the near post and powered a low header past the keeper. Gooooooal! 1-0 to England, the noise was deafening! The Manager leapt around like a lunatic, grabbing assistant manager Platt and tumbling over, feeling a bit like the buffoon he surely must have looked. It was a great goal, the talismatic Gerrard giving it everything for his country, and making up for the disappointment of missing the last 2 campaigns well and truly. In truth, questions would be asked of Schwartzer, but for now it didn’t matter.

Half time, and it was still all to do. Danny Webb had been awful, and the Manager replaced him with Lambu, Gerrard moving to MC and Croft to the right.

Straight after the break, Emerton forced a good save from Steele after a superb cross from Foxe. It could all change in an instant. Soon after, Gerrard & Samba combined to play in Owen, the striker shooting wide when it would have been easier to hit the target.

On 49 minutes, Lambu wheeled away from Foxe on the edge of the area, found space, and pulled a sharp ball back across the box where Gerrard found a touch amongst a swarm of defenders to plant the ball past the keeper and make it 2-0! Magic play from Lambu, great finish Gerrard. Heads in hands for the Aussie defenders, Schwartzer flat on his back looking to the heavens. No help there, mate, thought the Manager. This time the Manager stayed in his seat, not sure if the whiskey was to blame for his tumble earlier on or not. Best to be safe.

Lambu threatened again twice before Lucas put a looping header over from a Kewell cross, the Aussies reminding England that they would not go down without a fight.

The Manager brought on Brandy for Samba and Parker for Gerrard after 65 minutes, the England captain receiving a standing ovation as he left the pitch.

England dominated the closing stages, and the Manager though he saw the makings of a good ‘team’, so difficult to achieve at this level.

In the end the shots on target told the story. 7 to 1 in favour of England, the Australians bowing out gallantly but lacking the class to test England. It was a really satisfying performance, the Manager particularly impressed with Gerrard, Samba, Dawson, Lambu & Parker.

England fans were singing long into the night …

Ratings: Steele 7, Cole 8, Ferdinand 8, Woodgate 8, Dawson 9, Mullins 8, Croft 8, Webb 6 (Sub Lambu 8), Gerrard (Sub Parker 8), Owen 7, Samba 8 (Sub Brandy 7).

The Manager had a selection headache for the Quarter Finals, but it was a pleasant one, with everyone except McEveley fit, and a midfield brimming with confidence and options.

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Belgium 2 Uruguay 0

The young Belgium team continue to surprise, brushing aside the imposing Uruguayans with ease. Captain Timmy Simons opened the scoring with a 26th minute penalty after Mpenza had been crudely held back. Cedric Roussel made it 2-0 after just 32 minutes with a rasping low shot that deflected off a defender from 12 yards, giving the keeper no chance. As Uruguay became more desperate, the tackles flew thick and fast. It all went too far just after the break, Varlea scything down Simons with a crude and late tackled that earned him a straight red. Belgium were content to sit back after that, Uruguay never really mounting a serious challenge against the stylish Belgians. Blondel, Simons and De Roover were all superb in the middle of the park, Mpenza a constant menace. Belgium would be no pushover for their next opponents.

Nigeria 0 France 1

Nigeria were very, very unlucky, having outplayed France for most of the game, Agahowa and Ojigwe providing the drive. A tight game was broken by a miatke from keeper Mohammed, spilling a Bellion cross at the feet of Aliadiere, the Arsenal man making no mistake from 4 yards. Traore was man of the match, adding another milestone to his distinguished career. The French captain had been looking to move on from Liverpool for the last 2 seasons, but the Manager was having none of it. His contract would be up at the end of next season however, so it was time to start looking for a replacement. Overall the French team was unimpressive, lacking the spark that had seen them sit at the top of world football for almost a decade, but they had the experience and skill to turn it on come the day, and were a serious threat to England’s chances.

Mexico 2 Germany 1.

In another major upset, a Cacho brace before Kuronji pilled one back late on was enough to see Mexico through. It was a game Germany should have one, their structure and technique far superior to the Mexicans livewire brand of football. The villain of the piece was German keeper Butt, who twice failed to hold rasping Cacho drives from distance, the ball slipping through his grasp and trickling into the net. The headline next day said it all: “Oh no, Butt cant Cacho”!

The draw for the quarter finals had been kind to England, and the Manager fancied his chances against upstarts Mexico.

The other match ups were:

Czech Republic v USA

Spain v Brazil

Belgium v France

USA, Brazil & France loomed as the major dangers now, and the Manager headed out to his favourite bar at 1 a.m. feeling confident for the first time that his team could realise the dream of English football and go all the way.

Zheng shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around him. He had been in what he called ‘his temple’ for five hours now, making the final preparations for the big day, and waiting for the change of shifts that would allow his to make his exit without being noticed. All there was to do now was take the final action on the day, and he would be covered in glory for eternity. It was the moment his whole life had led towards, and now it was so close Zheng felt a sense of destiny. Everything had gone according to plan, and nothing would stop him now. It wasn’t actually necessary for Zheng to be at the ground on the day, but he had volunteered because he felt that he wanted to be at the centre of things when it all kicked off, so to speak …

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In another part of the city, the Manager sat cradling his laptop and reflecting on who was really doing the business for his England team. Things had gone exceptionally well, so much so that the press back in the UK were out of control, printing stories with titles such as “ENGLAND EXPECTS”, “BEST EVER” and other cringe worthy headings.

The Manager didn’t want to mess with the team structure or his choices too much, but now was the time to freshen up the team and remind some players that they could not expect a walk up start. It could be just the tonic they needed to bring out their best once again.

The Manager was worried about Michael Owens form. In 7 games under his tenure Owen had scored only twice, those goals against lowly Algeria, and had averaged only 7.0. Hardly the sort of form he was being picked for. Did the Manager risk him for 1 more game & hope he delivered – the Manager wasn’t sure.

Fabian Brandy, on the other hand, had been more consistently finding the net, scoring three from 6 (a couple of the games coming on late) and was averaging a respectable 7.33. There was always Rooney to try there as well, but it might be unfair on the others at this late stage.

Samba was clearly the leading light, netting 5 from 6 and leading the attach at an average rating of 7.66.

The MC/AMC role was still a question mark. Danny Webb’s form had trailed off alarmingly since his spectacular “rebirth”. Webb had in fact not scored again in 9 appearances, although he had performed reasonably well at 7.22. He was no D’Allessandro, that was for sure, and that was what the Manager was really looking for. Mullins, Gerrard and Croft were the other options for that role, but there were no stand outs the Manager could see. Croft himself was borderline, averaging only 7.25 and failing to score. Changes were needed alright ….

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World Cup Quarter Finals. China, 2010.

Spain 2 Brazil 1.

A boilover of monumental proportions saw the gritty Spanish outplay but not outclass the silky skills of the Brazilians. Guayre scored in the 20 th & 58 th minutes to seal the victory and cancel out Dede spectacular equaliser. The Villa man played his best game of the Finals.

The superbly organised Spaniards were led by Garces at the back and Etxeberria in midfield. The Brazilians were again led by Adriano, who again played the complete strikers game, but tellingly, failed to get a shot away, closed down time and again.

Reyes again played a key role, his great run to the byline and cross met emphatically by Guayre. Dede’s curling shot from 35 yards levelled things before Guayne put the icing on the cake, collecting Pavon’s 60m lofted pass, beating 3 defenders with a jinking run, and then lobbing Marcos superbly. 3 great goals in a riveting tussle. Brazil threw everything at Spain in the dying moments, but to no avail. Spain were through to the World Cup Semi Finals after sneaking through the group stage and round of 16 – an example of how anything could happen if luck was on your side. The Manager hoped some of Spain’s luck brushed off on England, as the draw was now wide open!

Czech Republic 2 USA 1.

Another huge shock, the unfancied Czechs toppling the up and coming super power of world football. Tellingly, Donovan missed the game with a knee strain, and the Americans sorely missed his inspirational running and sure finishing.

The match was a tight tussle for 78 minutes, before a Wood cross was met first time by Gaven, steering the ball home from 10 yards and putting the Americans one up ans seemingly booking them a ticked to the next round. The Czechs were not to be denied, however, and raised their tempo to stunning effect. 2 minutes later, great work from Posulka left Wood no option but to hold him back in the area, Baros nailing the resulting penalty, in off the post, to level the scores.

Full time and still 1-1, the Americans clearly rattled. Adu was hardly sighted, and Hubschman and Ujfalusi were supreme at the back for the Czechs, letting nothing through. After 94 minutes, another great piece of forward play by Postulka, now undoubtedly one of the players of the tournament, the Czech star running and crossing an inch perfect ball for Baros, who slid in and connected well, the ball cannoning off the post and spinning across the line to net a golden goal winner and send the Czechs wild, the majority of the young team reduced to tears. It had been a great display, and, the Manager realised, one in which luck had again played a huge part, the difference between winning & losing a few millimetres.

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It was all over the papers the next day, the journo’s just catching their editors in time to grab the back page for the afternoon print editions:

The Telegraph: “BEST IN DISGRACE – England Manager Pete best was last night arrested after a drunken brawl and spent the night in jail, before being release on bail …”

Other headlines were less complimentary. As usual, the media didn’t have their facts straight, but the Manager had indeed gotten himself involved in a drunken brawl, trying to come to the rescue of some old friends whom he had bumped into earlier in the night, and he had indeed been arrested at the scene at 3.30 a.m. on the night before England’s World Cup Quarter Final. He had spent a few hours at the local military police station and had been roughed up fro his trouble, before being released without charge.

Things did not look good, however, and the damage was already done, the Manager realised as he sat quietly in the team hotel, waiting on a visit from FA chairman Dougie Mack – a man not known for his patience.

Neighbouring guests complained at the racket coming from the Managers room, as the Chairman tore strips from the shame faced Manager. Pete was to face a hastily arrange press conference in half an hour, and Dougie had made it clear that he needed to save face or he was out of a job, World Cup or no World Cup.

The press conference:

John McCain (The Times), shouted over the top of the screaming pack of newshounds: “Mr. Best, is there any truth in the rumour that you were arrested after a drunken brawl and thrown in jail last night? What sort of example does this set for your team?”

Pete Best: “Look John, all of you. I would certainly expect my players to know better. In fact any of them out past curfew will be dropped from the squad. I am quite prepared to come under the same rules, and I’ll let the players decide what is appropriate ….”

Jack Stringer (The Sun), interrupting : “Don’t you realise the damage you have done to England’s chances in the Finals?”

Pete Best: “Yes, of course Jack, we could all do without this type of distraction, but in five minutes time, after I have addressed my players, we can move on and concentrate on the job in hand. Let me set you straight, I was not thrown un jail, nor am I on bail. I was amongst a group set upon last night and defended myself and my friends accordingly. I realise that to be out at that time of night looks bad, but that is when I do my best thinking, the FA knew that when they approached me for the job and nothing has changed.

Jack Stringer (The Sun): “But Pete, surely you can see that being out in a bar at 3 a.m. looks bad no matter what the excuses – where is your discipline man?”

Pete Best: “Calm down Jack, all of you …. Look, I know very well how it looks. I suppose I didn’t realise the situation I put myself in, and I’ll face the consequences of my actions. I can assure you that I wont make the same mistake again, that is one thing I have learnt in my Managerial career, and it’ll hold me in good stead now …”

And so it went on for a further 20 minutes, Dougie Mack drawing proceeding to a close. At the end of it, the Manager was pretty sure he had dug himself out of a big hole. His personal credibility had taken a bit of a beating, but he was about to find out if he still had the respect of the players or not, and that would decide his fate.

Secretly, the Manager knew he had been a fool, he had been out drinking again, and got himself in trouble. Christ, he was not 18 anymore – when would he ever learn? The only thing for it was to kick to booze once and for all and keep himself to himself.

The meeting with the players was brief, and went better than could have been expected. The players made it clear they thought the Manager had done the right thing on the night. Most of them knew how he operated, so the fact he was out on the sauce did not change their opinion of him. In fact, some of the players were proud of the way he had defended his friends. All in all disaster had been averted, the Manager still had his job, and aside from being the butt of a few wry comments in the afternoons tactical briefing, the Manager knew his players were still 100% behind him.

The Manager closed the meeting by saying:

“Look lads, we are at the pointy end of every footballers dream. I’ll support you 100%, all the way, in achieving that dream. If anyone feels less than 100% behind me and the way I manage this team, step forward and I’ll hand my duties over to David Platt, who will make more than a fine replacement. I have every confidence in David, as I know you do.”

Silence.

Hayden Mullins “come off it gaffer, you’ve got to be kidding us, we’re not deserting you over a couple of scotch and cokes and a bit of fisticuffs – from all accounts it seems you’ve got a pretty handy right hook!”… a few chuckles, and normality was restored.

The Manager, grabbing the opportunity, gave the players a quick 30 minute boxercise workout in the gym to sharpen them up for the evenings game, the biggest of his career,no doubt.

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England v Mexico

The England side that ran out against Mexico to face their destiny was dramatically reshaped. The biggest shock was that Michael Owen, so often England’s inspiration, had been dropped to the bench, replaced by young Manchester United star Fabian Brandy. Samba & Brandy made for a youthful pairing up front, and the Manager hoped their enthusiasm and strength would tell against the plucky Mexicans.

Lambu, as expected, came in for Croft, but Danny Webb, one time hero, had finally wore the Managers patience too thin, and was dropped from the match day squad after one disappointing performance too many. In his place cams Scott Parker, claiming the DMC anchor role while Mullins was tried at MC. Webb was visibly crushed, and the Manger took him aside and offered a few words of encouragement, telling him to stay positive on the track, and who knows, he may well get his chance after all.

The Manager had assigned Woodgate to mind Cacho, Parker also instructed to close him down at every opportunity, and Torrado, to be minded by Gerrard. England would play the Managers favourite attacking 4-1-3-2 formation.

The whistle blew at the Peoples stadium, and the crowd erupted, the Mexican fans giving their English counterparts plenty of competition.

Samba started brightly, shotting from distance after just 2 minutes after creating space for himself, but his powerful shot was swallowed by keeper Sanchez. Gerrard the creator.

Goma Lambu blasted the ball over after just 10 minutes, showing again the silky skills that had him rated as one of the up and coming world stars of the beautiful game. It was a sharp chance but the Manager thought he should have hit the target.

Cacho outpaced Ferdinand soon after, no mean feat, only to drag his shot wide, Steele well positioned in any case.

Mexico settled after that, and looked very comfortable, England made to chase the ball with little success.

Against the run of play. Lambu and Samba exchanged passes in the centre of the pitch, Lambu’s touch again drawing gasps from the crowd. Samba wheeled around, surging forward into space in the blink of an eye, and unleashed a piledriver from 35 yards that billowed the back of the net, the keeper barely moving. Gooooooooal!! 1-0 to England, the Manager leaping with joy and the noise from the crowd deafening.

Just 2 minutes later, Gerrard takes the ball at AMC and feeds Brandy, who’s run takes him past 2 defenders, only for his shot to be parried by the keeper, but into the path of Samba, who looks odds on to score, but Lopez is there at the last second and the danger is cleared. Mexico rattled. England well on top.

Samba was close again after 43 minutes, his shot from a tight angle swerving into the side netting.

Three minutes into stoppage time, Brandy is put clear by Samba, and sweeps the ball clinically past Sanchez to make it 2-0!! The Manager is again leaping around the pitch, but a second later has his head in his hands, then start releasing a stream of expletives at the linesman, who stands with his flag raised – the goal disallowed. So its 1-0 at the break and the half has gone very well for England, the team picking itself up following the Managers indiscretion. The Manager himself feeling better after the foul mood he had been in all day.

The second half is much tighter, Mexico man marking and closing down Lambu & Gerrard with some tough tackling. After 64 minutes the Manager send on Rooney in preference to Owen – off comes Brandy. Owen sits and stares blankly ahead, wondering if his campaign is over. Croft also comes on for Lambu, who is tiring badly after another sublime display, his lack of match fitness catching up with him.

Rooney immediately looks lively, and snaps a shot over from 12 yards. Four minutes later, Samba crosses from out wide, and Rooney shrugs off his opponent Lopes and slides the ball home from close range. The Manager cant believe it 2-0 and no mistake this time. Surely a spot in the semis is now England’s. The Manager yells at his team to get behind the ball and close the game up.

Mexico, however, have other ideas, and their pressure pays off when after 72 minutes a Castro corner is headed home by Torrado, soaring over Woodgate at the near post, Steele with no chance. 2-1 now and plenty of time. Mexico have a sniff and suddenly England look shaky, missing passes and making mistakes.

Welsh comes on for Woodgate after 78 minutes, the Manager worried about Cacho’s pace and drive. A minute later Samba’s header from a Welsh cross is held again by keeper Sanches.

87 minutes, Torrado puts Cacho into space again, England looking ragged at the back. Cacho’s run takes him past Steele with pure pace, and he slots the ball home from a tight angle. 2-2! The Manager is furious with his players, who look like a beaten side. The Mexicans are understandably ecstatic, it has been a great comeback.

Extra time, and England go out to attack once more, backing themselves in rather than holding off for the dreaded penalty shootout (England have a terrible record in penalty shootouts, and the Manager is not confident the current crop will fare any better). Just a minute into extra time, the fresh legs of Croft take him down the line, leaving defenders in his wake. Croft centres the ball only for it to sail over the head of Samba, but Dawson, making a superb late run, meets it solidly, his header crashing home to make it 3-2 and win it for England!!!!

The Manager feels his heart stop for a second, then pandemonium breaks out and he is mobbed by his staff and players alike. England have made it to the Semi Finals, where only the Czech Republic stand in their way of a historic appearance in the Final.

Ratings: Steele 7, Cole 7, Ferdinand 7, Woodgate 7 (Sub Welsh 8), Dawson 8; Parker 8; Lambu 8 (Sub Croft 7), Mullins 8, Gerrard 8; Samba 9, Brandy 7 (Sub Rooney 8).

The England fans sing on at the ground for a good hour after the game “Eng-er-land, Eng-er-land, Eng-er-land etc”. The Manager heads for the team Hotel, once again a hero in the eyes of the media, and settles into his suite, nothing but a half empty bottle of Bowmore to keep him company. The team had played well, despite a couple of defensive lapses, Parker commanding at DMC, Lambu brilliant, Mullins doing a great job in the middle and Samba outstanding once again, now the joint top scorer in the competition. The Manager holds the bottle over the sink, but then grabs a glass and pours himself a generous measure. What the hell, I’ve earned it, he tells himself ….

… Zheng switches out the light in his cold and drab flat, pleased with the result of the game he has watched that night on his old black and white television, and covers the electrical components he has been working on before settling down. He will sleep well tonight.

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Belgium v France

The plucky Belgians, surprise packets of the finals, verses the imposing French line up. The French dominated the opening stages, Aliadiere driving home a rising shot after a penalty box scramble after 33 minutes to give France a deserved lead. Traore was keeping the dangerous Mpenza very quiet, and the French central midfield pairing of Bernard and veteran Viera were cutting off any supply. Ex Liverpool striker Djibril Cisse put in another powerful forward display, coming close on 3 occasions to lead his team attack. In the end, it was academic, France comfortably through, the Belgians never really threatening, seeming to have exhausted themselves in getting to the quarters. France 1 Belgium 0.

The semi final showdowns were England V Czech Republic and France v Spain, all European final four, much to the surprise of football pundits the world over, but there was no denying that the 4 remaining teams had played the best football of the tournament, and deserved their spots.

France were declared favourites to win the competition, followed by England, Spain and then the still unfancied Czechs. The Czech odds had been extended following the one match ban Petr Postulka had picked up in the quarter finals, making England’s path a little easier. The Czechs would still be tough opposition, and the Manager was not going to under estimate them.

The Manager had a couple f headaches at the selection table – Cole & Welsh suspended, and Lambu twisting a knee in training and out for 3 days. Another reshuffle was called for, and with McEveley still a few days away from full fitness, options at left back were reduced to jack of all trades Mullins or Blackburn teenager Stuart Giddings.

Mullins would be needed in midfield with Lambu’s untimely injury, so Giddings it was who would get his chance on the biggest stage of his short career. The midfield ‘T’ would comprise Mullins, the recalled Croft, Gerrard and Parker, Webb earning a recall to the bench.

Up front things would be unchanged, Rooney unlucky not to edge out Brandy for a starting spot, Owen again on the bench – but things were far from settled.

The press conference the day before the big game was full of optimism, the English journo’s staying largely away from the managers extra curricular activities, and concentrating on the hype surrounding England’s best chance for many years to claim the greatest prize in Football.

Wayne Cooper (Guardian): “Mr Best, what has been the most pleasing thing about England’s progress so far”.

Pete Best: “Well, Wayne, I’d have to say the way the team has developed. We still have a way to go, as Mexico showed us last week, but we will learn and tighten up at the back – we’ll have top watch ourselves against the Czechs, as they are excellent at exploiting teams on the break.”

John Stephens (Mirror): “What are your chances of going all the way?”.

Pete Best: “The same as the other three teams I’d say. None of the teams is in the semi finals of the world cup by accident”.

Robin Norris (News of The World): “Is there anything to the rumours circulating that you have a serious drinking problem”.

Pete Best: “Get stuffed”.

General chaos ensues as the Manager storms out of the press conference, giving the hacks plenty to write about. Robin had hit a nerve, and the Manager knew he had made himself look the fool once again. He would have to face up to his problems one day soon, but now was not the time, he realised. He hadn’t had a drink all day, and consequently his mood had been even more grumpy and short tempered than usual, leading to him snapping at the slightest provocation. The Manager headed for his hotel suite and cracked open the last of the mini bar.

Dougie Mack was left to pick up the pieces, but privately he was seething: “Look, I’m sure you can all appreciate the pressure Pete is under at the moment, and those sort of questions do not help. Can we please keep the questions away from the England Managers personal life in future?”.

After the dust had settled, the Manager penned his match day squad:

Steele; Giddings; Ferdinand, Woodgate, Dawson; Mullins; Parker, Gerrard, Croft; Samba, Brandy Subs Kirkland, Terry, Schumacher, Kay, Rooney, Owen.

The Manager hardly slept that night, and in the morning he looked and felt terrible. He could have sworn that he had aged at least 10 years in the last 9 months. Anyway, it was time for a quick shower and shave, then off to meet the press again before a tactical meeting and then it was off to the Workers stadium for the most important game of his career.

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The Manager kept it simple before the game. “OK lads, you know what you have to do. Keep focussed, be patient and look for your opportunity. Close down the Czech lads whenever you get the chance, now get out there and show the fans what you are made of”.

The Manager knew that his players were more keyed up than he had ever seen them, the loos in the change rooms getting a real workout over the last half hour, so it was best not to say too much – it was unlikely they’d remember a word anyway.

Spain had surprised France earlier in the day, Etxeberria scoring the only goal from the spot in the 69th minute, Spain holding on desperately in a match they had dominated up to that point. Spain were inspired again by Aston Villa front man Guayre, with Iniesta controlling things in the middle. Spain were certainly not the opponent the Manager was expecting if his side did the job tonight, but they had shown in their last 2 games that they were indeed a force to be reckoned with, playing some lovely team football. Not always pretty to watch, but good, tough football – just the sort of style the Manager wanted to see more of from his England charges, even though he had built his career on playing open, attacking style tactics.

The Manager felt a chill run down his spine as the national anthem played, and shed a tear. He was sure that the team could outplay the Czechs, but it could all come down to luck, or worse still, penalties. The Manager had organised extra training sessions in preparation for a potential penalty shoot out, but he really hoped it wouldn’t be needed.

Both teams made a nervous start, sitting back and trying to keep possession. The Manager cringed as Ferdinand underhit a backpass, Baros and Steele crashing into one another, but Steele holding on as if his life depended on it.

Croft got the first real shot away after 9 minutes, revelling in his new role on the right of midfield, but Kouril saved easily and clutched the ball to his chest.

A croft free kick after 22 minutes deflected off the wall and tricked tamely to the keeper. Disappointing. England’s lack of a true set piece specialist was still a problem, hopefully one that would not cost England a shot at glory.

The Czech’s were doing well, and after 30 minutes a high ball in from Vlad Postulka (no relation) tested Steele, but the keeper flew high over the top of Baros and held on. Steele had been superb all tournament, and was now repaying the Managers faith in spades.

Brandy burst into space and shot from the right hand edge of the area after 32 minutes, the shot curving wide. Kouril had it covered.

Things stayed tight into injury time, when Gerrard played a short ball to Croft, and suddenly the defence opened up in front of Croft, allowing the City man to burst forward past 4 defenders with only the keeper to beat. The Manager was out of the dugout. Croft shaped to shoot, but was suddenly swamped by Trojan, who thumped the ball away from danger. Croft’s hesitation in front of goal was critical.

At half time the Manager threw on Owen for Brandy, who had been hardly sighted, giving the England veteran one last chance to prove his worth. Samba had again been busy, although Ujfausi seemed to have the better of his to date. Honours were even so far, and the Manager made a few subtle tactical changes to try and open things up a bit, Gerrard moving forward.

The tactical moves paid off almost instantly. From the kick off, Gerrard played a nice ball out in front of Owen, the Liverpool man sprinting clear and cutting back inside his defender before playing a good ball into the path of Samba, who had got free of his man for the first time that evening. Samba took the ball in his stride and blasted an unstoppable shot into the roof of the net! Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!!!

1-0 to England, the stadium erupting. The Manager urged his players on – he wasn’t going to risk sitting back again & letting the Czech’s back in after the near debacle with Mexico.

Five minutes later, Samba flew to challenge Pospisill for a high ball played forward from the industrious captain, Gerrard, only to leave his opponent clutching his head on the ground. Everyone seemed to hesitate, the ball, lobbing forward towards the edge of the area. Samba moved after the ball, the crowd was silent a second. He hesitated again, but there was still no whistle, so he took off after the ball, taking the Czech defence by surprise and lashing a first time shot past the keeper from the edge of the area. The Czech’s were furious, but the goal stood. 2-0 to England, surely the World CupFinal beckoned. Cherno Samba had been the ‘find’ of the tournament, and was now the leading goal scorer. Samba now has 8 goals from his last 8 England starts, giving him 6 for the tournament and England career stats of 26 appearances for 18 goals – up there with the best, and with his best yet to come. The Manager knew he was good when he pinched him from Millwall last season, but not that good! The lad had really developed and come on in leaps and bounds during the tournament and would now be getting the nod ahead of Owen at Anfield, if he could hang on to him, as he was surely the hottest property around, and big offers were sure to comefrom the European heavyweights.

The Czechs lost heart after that, and the match quickly deteriorated into an ill tempered affair. Slavic got himself sent off after 61 minutes, and it was really all over from then on. Rooney came on for Samba, the young star receiving a generous ovation as he left the pitch, and James Kay came on to ensure Parker didn’t add a second yellow and miss the final. Rooney failed to impress, and Owen, although his link up play and crossing were good, failed to get a shot away again, leaving the Manager scratching his head on the line up for the Final.

Croft played the game of his life to claim man of the match honours, and Steele, Mullins, Gerrard and Parker were once again excellent, as England cruised into the World Cup Final for the first time since 1966. Giddings had also impressed, looking composed and skilful coming forward, but fate would dictate whether he got a start in the Final.

Ratings: Steele 8; Giddings 8; Ferdinand 7, Woodgate 8, Dawson 8; Mullins 8; Parker 8 (Sub Kay 7), Gerrard 8, Croft 9; Samba 8 (Sub Rooney 7), Brandy 7 (Sub Owen 7).

The Manager ushered his players off the park quickly after the game, asking them not to get carried away. Spain were still to be conquered, and it would be one hell of a fight. The Manager had to make sure that if England were to unlock the much vaunted Spanish defence, then they had to take their chances, even if they only got the one, they would have to make it count. In short, they would all have to play the game of their lives. The Manager was sure that the Spanish would be feeling the same way.

As the Manager came down the tunnel, David Platt greeted him, ashen faced. The Manager knew there was a problem ….