England’s battle-scarred troops were handed a vital lifeline as the rumbustious Russians blew it. In downtown Tel Aviv, Israel celebrated the unlikeliest last gasp 2-1 victory.

With Euro 2008 qualification hanging in the balance, the Israelis pulled off a miraculous victory in this most religious of countries, thanks to a late late winner from sub Omar Golan. Facing a relentless onslaught, Israel climbed off their defensive ropes and beat a highly-fancied Russian side.

But for Steve McClaren, England’s deeply reviled boss, this may have been a blessing in disguise. His team still have to secure at least a draw, or better still victory,  against a very stubborn Croatian side at Wembley. Wednesday may be judgment day for McClaren, and the guillotine still hovers.

'Facing a relentless onslaught, Israel climbed off their defensive ropes and beat a highly fancied Russian side'


After extremely ropey performances against Russia in Moscow, a disaster in Croatia, and mumbo jumbo against Macedonia, England now have their destiny in their own hands.

So why does it take hard labour and Chinese torture to qualify for a major tournament? World Cups and European Championships have come and gone for England but still we found ourselves the laughing stock of the world.

From Sir Alf Ramsey through to Don Revie, Sir Bobby Robson to Graham Taylor the scenario is still the same. Should McClaren get the chop, then the list of plausible replacements remains pitifully thin.

A quick examination of the runners and riders reveals everything there is to know about English football. Sadly there are very few capable or competent enough to take on this poisoned chalice of a job.

Managing or coaching the England football team has become rather like looking after the British economy. You try to keep interest rates down but when it comes to the crunch the task becomes a thankless one.

So the candidates all have admirable CVs but, understandably little desire. Who, in their rational mind, would want the most unenviable job in Britain. You’re hounded and harassed by every red top tabloid, ridiculed savagely if you get it wrong and then hung, drawn and quartered by the Great British public.

The lack of a decent British presence is most disturbing. There may be Sam Allardyce at Newcastle, but big Sam would rather rant and rave than coach football teams. Somehow Speakers Corner would be Allardyce’s more natural habitat.

Then of course there’s the housewives' favourite Jose Mourinho, the former Chelsea boss. Now Mourinho literally changed the Kings Road overnight. Before Mourinho arrived at Stamford Bridge Chelsea were football’s answer to Flanagan and Allen.

Two Premiership titles and an FA Cup later and the music hall chumps were top of the bill. Chelsea were transformed and a major force in English football.

Now rumour has it that Mourinho would rather chop wood for a living than manage a bunch of English reprobates. We know Mourinho is a charismatic and discerning man. We also know that if things don’t go his way he’d bite your head off.

At both Porto and Chelsea Mourinho became a tactical magician who always produced the right results. If he were a curator at an art gallery he’d probably guide you to the best Constable. Mourinho, though, deals in hard reality rather than silly surrealism.

Then there’s the persistent clamour for that lovable rogue Terry Venables and a muffled cry for West Ham boss Alan Curbishley. Venables was a superb motivator of players and Euro 96 proved to be his zenith. But Venables is more used car salesman and Curbishley is still learning the ropes in London’s East End.

So there you have it. It is a sad indictment on the state of English football that there is so little to choose from. It’s rather like going to the winter sale at Harrods and finding nothing more appetising than a moth eaten pork pie.

Allardyce, Curbishley, Mourinho and even Arsene Wenger are all qualifed for this hot potato of a job. Wenger would be a popular choice, a multi-talented manager with a wondrous flair for languages. Why though would a hugely intelligent and well adjusted Frenchman want the England job. Perhaps we ought to consider the credentials of Donald Duck.