England haven’t kicked a ball at the tournament yet. So why does it already feel like the post-mortem has begun?
If we keep Phil McNulty up front, British sports journalism – and England – are doomed
Here we go again. And no, I’m not referring to the uninspiring, if not predictable, pre-tournament England performance, I’m talking about the media’s reaction. And, to a lesser extent (because it’s largely driven/represented by the media – including social media keyboard warriors) the fan reaction.
Let’s face it, the tone arrives before the analysis – England fans booing their side off (at Wembley – in a friendly – when did this become acceptable?).
Yes, England looked cagey and a little uncertain from the start against Japan, and within minutes you can practically hear the British press vocalising their pun-heavy headlines ready for the final whistle.
The earlier draw on Friday against Uruguay did little to disrupt the script, with the British media habit of focussing in on one player to pile on the pre-tournament pressure displayed in full by BBC ‘Chief Football Writer’ Phil McNulty, who gleefully held nothing back in his headline: “If these were the Tuchel trials, Foden – among others – failed”, tantalisingly served up alongside a photo of Foden, head woefully tipped to one side, tossing up the match ball with what could be interpreted as an air of abandonment.
I should set out my stall now, I suppose. I’m not defending the England performance, in either game. And neither am I here to analyse team performance. This isn’t a football editorial piece. I am here to take the British media – and, ok, McNulty – for reasons I’ll go into shortly – to task over their repeated, tiresomely negative, anticipatory scepticism and downright dismantling of our team’s hopes before big tournaments.
Of course the media aren’t going to sing the praises of a team who’ve come out of a World Cup warm up without a win, but let’s look at the NATURE of the critique for a second. My beef is with how fatalistic and personalised the coverage is over the England squad before these tournaments.
Let’s take a quick look at overseas media coverage of team performances – even after losses. When Japan were knocked out of the Asian Cup by Iran in 2024, the reaction centred on execution and improvement, missed chances, late decisions, lessons to take forward. It was a disappointment, certainly, but not a referendum. There was no sense that a single performance had rewritten careers or unsettled the entire direction of the team. Japanese sports media tend to focus on discipline in camp, teamwork, and on the whole, it could be argued, avoid singling out individuals harshly (well, for the most part). The attitude seems to be around learning, adjustment and what can be improved.
In Germany, the narrative feels less centred around the team, when it fails, ‘bottling it’, and more about the systems, tactics and coaching decisions.
Although perhaps it’s a western trait, this fatalistic approach to football journalism. Following Italy’s failure this week to bag a qualifying spot for the 2026 World Cup this summer in their play-off penalty defeat to Bosnia, the language was equally unforgiving, with doom-laden references to an “apocalypse”, “World Cup curse”, and a sporting “nightmare that it can’t wake up from”. There were calls for resignations, questions over structure and a clear sense of national failure. But crucially, the criticism was directed upward at systems, leadership and long-term decline.
In England, by contrast, similar tones surface after an experimental friendly. The scrutiny arrives early, settles quickly, and attaches itself not to structures, but to individuals.
Let’s look at Phil McNulty’s language following our draw against Croatia. In his BBC article (the Foden-focussed one) we hear about “worst case scenario”; we hear that Foden “missed his big chance”, that he “failed to make any impact”, that he is “uncharacteristically subdued” and “unable to exert his influence”. Best of all, that his “career has lost momentum” and that his “form has faded.” No pressure eh Phil!
Then comes the subtle undermining. We hear, by contrast, about Cole Palmer’s “lively cameo” and how his “bright show” “emphasised Foden’s struggle”. Furthermore, it would appear that Foden is not simply having a bad game – but is the wrong player entirely (something he picks up on following the Japan defeat) – a “square peg in a round hole” and “pushed to the wider margins”.
It isn’t the criticism that stands out; fine, he wasn’t at his best. It’s the accumulation of it.
A performance becomes a “missed opportunity”, a quiet game becomes “peripheral at best”, and within a few paragraphs a player’s entire tournament place is framed as being “in the balance”.
What makes it more frustrating is that this wasn’t even a finished England side. Far from it.
Under Thomas Tuchel, these early fixtures are clearly exploratory; combinations tested, partnerships tried and discarded, players given minutes rather than overly defined roles. There are only so many seats on the plane, and this was never going to resemble a starting eleven. Watching it unfold felt less like a statement of intent and more like the opening minutes of a trial. It brought to mind those early county selection sessions as a school kid – five minutes of mismatched combinations, players rotating through positions, nothing settled, everything provisional. Judging a team on that basis would have been absurd. If it weren’t, I’d have a Lancashire winners’ medal somewhere in a drawer.
And ok – I’m all for negative critique – but surely, surely there are some positives to be gleaned (other than the rather muted and almost patronising description of Palmer’s ‘lively show’)?
Well, let’s look at this morning’s article: “Failed experiment as England get grim glimpse of life without Kane”.
Wow. A better title might have been England Cannot Function Without Harry Kane. The language does the work for you – “grim spectacle… serious trouble… falls off a cliff… bankruptcy of ideas… ugly, basic… the cupboard is bare…” – it’s a steady accumulation that leaves little room for anything else.
Best of all – the existential framing of our England team goes so far as to state that Kane “will be the difference between failure and any chance of English success at this summer’s World Cup”. Any chance. That’s pretty conclusive eh?
But some players did ok, right? Well, sort of. Harry Maguire gets thrown a bone, but it is quickly absorbed into the wider narrative. His header, “cleared off the line… in a rare moment of danger”, is acknowledged, yet framed as an exception within a “desperate” and “ugly” approach, rather than recognised as one of England’s few genuine threats.
This isn’t a new phenomenon. The tone that gathers around England before a major tournament has long leaned towards doubt—and the headlines bear it out.
Ahead of the 2010 World Cup, the focus was already drifting away from football. “John Terry stripped of England captaincy” dominated coverage regarding allegations over his private life. Similar headlines resurfaced prior to the 2012 Euros – with Terry’s captaincy removed once more pending FA investigations. Before a ball had been kicked, both times, the narrative was already one of disruption and instability.
By 2014, that mood had hardened. England travelled to Brazil with headlines that bordered on resignation, with the AP reporting that “England has its excuses in early” – with a follow up opening sentence of “Never before has England travelled to a World Cup better prepared — for the post-tournament inquest”. Retrospective coverage would later describe it as “England’s worst World Cup campaign in 56 years”, a line that, in many ways, felt pre-written before the group stage had even begun.
Even in 2018—arguably the most positive campaign in a generation when England would go on to reach a World Cup semi-final, the pre-tournament tone carried its own strain of anxiety. Headlines warned fans of “anti-British harassment” and potential violence in Russia, while the football itself was framed with similar caution – with fan predictions that England had “no chance of winning the World Cup” circulating freely before a ball had been kicked (let’s save the fan-led social media for another article). The mood was not one of possibility, but one of pre-emptive limitation. What followed, of course, was rather different.
It raises a broader question – what does all this negativity actually serve? If we can’t get excited ahead of a big tournament, what is the point?
Because it isn’t confined to the press. It mirrors the familiar arc of any England conversation, well – any football conversation throughout the English football pyramid – echoed from WhatsApp groups to fan forums: early optimism, cautious discussion, and then, almost inevitably, a slide into frustration, criticism, mid-season misery and calls for change (usually the sacking of managers and culling of players by Christmas).
The difference is that the media often sets that tone early. It establishes the baseline. It lowers the ceiling before the tournament has the chance to raise it.
Perhaps it is a form of protection. Expect less, and disappointment hurts less. Build in doubt, and failure feels inevitable rather than shocking. But in doing so, something else is lost. Because part of football, perhaps the best part (particularly for a long-suffering Preston North End fan) is the possibility. The irrational belief that something might just click, that a group of players might become more than the sum of its parts, that a tournament might unfold differently to how it looks on paper. If that is stripped away before a ball is kicked, what is left?
There are the players to consider too. A few years ago I auditioned to appear on The Chase. Once selected for the show, our team was counselled by the studio team to avoid all forms of social media once the show aired – basically because people are cruel and no matter whether we did well or fell flat on our faces, the British public liked to mock anyone brave (or stupid) enough to stick their heads above the parapet. Now, I’m sure that professional footballers are advised similarly in this day and age, particularly in the build-up to international events, but essentially, footballer or amateur quizzer, we are all human. I mean look at Adam and Eve: it’s in our nature to chow down on the forbidden fruit. I can still see the memes now. Do you really think the players never read, or hear about the pretty poor opinions the likes of McNulty et al have of them?
My friend told me not to worry after I got trashed after my quiz show appearance – they’re only trolls, they’d never say these things in real life. And I do wonder if the same is the case for sports journalists. Strip away the flashing lights of a press conference, or the forcefield of a computer screen. Would they offer these opinions when face to face with the England set up?
While we are drawn to it – speculation, doubt, the urge to anticipate what might go wrong – it is also fair to ask whether football’s tribal instincts ever seep into the way it is written about. The game does not suddenly become neutral when the byline is added. Even moments that spill beyond the pitch (such as the widely reported incident in which Phil McNulty, an Everton supporter, said his social media account had been hacked) serve as a reminder of how closely football, identity and allegiance remain intertwined.
Maybe the question isn’t whether England should be criticised – but when. If we cannot allow ourselves a little optimism before a tournament begins, when exactly are we allowed it?
There will be time for dissection, for accountability, for hard truths if they are needed. But before a tournament begins, before anything meaningful has been decided (such as…say…the team itself), there is something to be said for holding back. For resisting the urge to personalise, to predict failure, to turn uncertainty into inevitability.
Because football is one of the few things that still has the power to bring a nation together, however briefly and however imperfectly. If the story is already one of doubt before it begins, that unity never really has a chance.
Support does not mean blind optimism, but it should include a sense of butterflies, anticipation and belief that we could be the best version of ourselves.
But leave it to McNulty – the Beeb’s Number 9 in terms of football reporting – and his finishing on England is clinical: “Grim spectacle”. “Serious trouble”. “Falls off a cliff”. “Bankruptcy of ideas” – and the language leaves little room for anything else, least of all the possibility that things might yet change.
As Bill Shankly once said, football is not a matter of life and death, it’s much more important than that.
But perhaps it also deserves a little more patience.
