The football wasn't flawless but for true grit you can't fault us

Times

6 days ago

I played in an Olympic Games or two. Have I mentioned it before? And, frankly, I melted, in the second one in Sydney. Melted in the heat, wilted, shrivelled, ground down by the pressure, the occasion and, oh yes, the heat. But Chloe Kelly. Wonderful, emollient, self-possessed, bullet-proof Chloe.
Was there anyone in the stadium, in Switzerland, in the world, cooler than this sublime footballer as she scored the championship-winning goal; anyone who could have conveyed such confidence; anyone who could have pulled it off with such swagger, just as when she scored the winner in the last Euros, taking off her shirt and waving it around her head as she wheeled away from goal, a moment of thrilling iconography, not least for my 12-year-old daughter, who ran eight times around the house.
This time it was a penalty kick (yes, England won a major final on penalties!), hit hard and true, after an absorbing, nerve-racking, utterly immersive game of knockout football of the kind we have come to expect from this group of players, led by a lionhearted general in Sarina Wiegman. The England coach, who some over-excited pundits were calling to be sacked after England lost to France in the opening match, has injected belief into this squad, motivating them, rousing them, getting them to understand that liberating (but hard to learn) truth that pressure isn't something to fear but to embrace.
Throughout this tournament England haven't always played flawlessly but that grit, that iron resolve, has never been absent. I mean, wasn't it lovely to see the determination of Michelle Agyemang in her role as an impact substitute, the solidity of Hannah Hampton, the goalkeeper, the leadership of Leah Williamson, who has perhaps never looked more formidable? This victory was more about derring-do than four four two; more about psychology than formation; more about what's written in hearts and minds than those rather elaborate arrow-laden whiteboards you see in dressing rooms.
And while I don't like turning sportspeople into role models (frankly, it isn't their job, is it?), perhaps I might say this. I wouldn't my mind my daughter (or my 11-year-old son, come to that) taking a leaf or three out of the book of this squad. I think of the work ethic (and turn of pace) of Lauren Hemp, who grew up in North Walsham, Norfolk, where she played as a teenager in the Boys' Elite Player Development Centre in Norwich because she was good enough to hold her own and grafted as hard as any of them.
I think of Lucy Bronze, who grew up painfully shy, found her voice on the football pitch, battling with her brother during her years at secondary school, before going to university, working at a Domino's Pizza to make ends meet, and then becoming perhaps the most indomitable player in the team. There were times in the final when she seemed more like a piece of granite than a human being, not least after hobbling off the pitch with cramp, and then hobbling back on, before making another last ditch, potentially goal-stopping challenge.
And let me mention Agyemang again, a teenager with the widest of smiles, who scored 41 seconds into her debut for England (against Belgium) and then knocked in two equalisers during the knockout stages of the Euros. There was a lovely interview with a teacher at Southend High School for Girls called April Smith, who spotted her potential during lunchtime kickarounds. 'There was just something really special about her, not just from a playing perspective, but a mentality perspective. She always wanted to do more, always worked really hard,' she told the BBC.
Always wanted to do more. Always worked really hard. If you had to pick out two statements to capture this England team, these don't do a bad job. This has been yet another evocation of solidarity, of spirit, of a group of players becoming so much more than the sum of their parts. I've enjoyed every minute. And judging by my neighbours dancing jigs in their gardens as that last penalty went in, so did most of the nation.