It hasn’t been pretty, it hasn’t been easy to watch. England are three games into their Euro 2024 campaign and so far the biggest discussions have centred over which players need to come out of the starting lineup, why the team can’t press, who isn’t fit, which former internationals are most angry and why, yet again, it’s almost certainly not coming home.
A narrow and nervy win over Serbia was followed by a tame and fortunate draw with Denmark. On Tuesday night, Group C came to a conclusion with a truly dismal goalless draw against Slovenia, leaving England short on inspiration and goalscoring form, but top of the quartet and safely through to the last 16.
There will be further recriminations and complaints after this game, and deservedly so after failing to beat a nation who have tallied precisely one win at major men’s international tournaments in their history.
But one factor surrounding England has been positive. One factor has been consistent, even impressive - and is nothing to do with the squad, the management or anything on-pitch at all.
Instead it has been the England following, the supporters filling the stadium in their thousands who have been the best watch so far, specficially for the nostalgia and niche factors of their flags and jerseys in Germans.
While the Three Lions toil on the pitch and Gareth Southgate debates over whether to go with any of three or four central midfielders to partner Declan Rice, the fans have bedecked each stadium in turn with dozens upon dozens, hundreds even, of white flags with red crosses.
This isn’t patriotic, chest-beating, prideful beaming nonsense over the St. George’s cross either.
No, it’s genuinely intriguing: in almost every case, those flags are written on, highlighting either where they are from, the club they support or some other local and personal note.
In other words, those flags are a glimpse into England’s following: in many cases - most cases indeed - these are not fans who follow the very best at club level. This, then, the European Championship - and every other tournament where they have almost always been present - is their version of the elite, of a continental campaign, of their opportunity to see some of the biggest names in action and the biggest prizes handed out.
And the names are as varied and intriguing as they are... well, lower-league, and beyond.
Macclesfield. Scunthorpe United. Bournemouth. Sheffield United. Something akin to “Tivdale Wolves” whoever they might be. Al Sager School, perhaps, another flag or two along? Above them, Millwall, Doncaster, Derby and Leeds. Exeter City, probably; Coventry and Carlisle, certainly.
More and more of them, some scrawled across, some painted on or stitched with red cloth, names and places and friends, family, groups and more.
It isn’t precisely what we watch the game for, but it’s an undeniable part of what makes football watchable: the culture, the fans, the atmosphere.
And not just in the flags, but the shirts on the fans themselves.
As far as England goes, the best viewing has been a case of looking out for a host of retro jerseys: memories, of players and tournaments past, sparked by nothing more than the colour, shade or style.
Euro 96 your favourite? The Sven era, perhaps? The red shirt of that Joe Cole goal, the classic shaded blue of World Cup 90 in Italia?
Every single one was on display in Cologne, as they had been in Frankfurt and Gelsenkirchen, as they again no doubt will be in the latter for the round of 16.
The support itself emanated from those same fans; the noise, the applause, the repetitive and somewhat irksome - but notably present - chanting towards the end of the game were all a part of it, were all what drew the attention while those on the pitch failed to do so with any great frequency.
That some sections offered boos, at half-time or full-time in this game or others, is neither surprising nor detrimental: they are there to see England try to win, and they’re not. But that is just another side of the coin called “supporting”.
International tournaments have long been about the bright colours and superb cultures on show from different corners, whether the shocking orange of the Dutch or the drums-and-dancing Senegal fans or the vociferous, flare-backed, brilliantly baying Turkish contingent.
England’s own version is different, no doubt, sometimes understated and full of nostalgia and curiosity and more. And so far, at Euro 2024, they have been the best part of the nation’s campaign in Germany.
