Let’s get straight to the point. What other country in the world would have a lamppost as main striker? No offence, Peter, I’m sure you are really a great player, but if you are the best we have to offer, then what hope do we have?

I could choose any of the players on show on Saturday against Macedonia and ask if they are truly world or European class. Is Gary Neville, after 83 caps, really good enough? Can Frank Lampard be classed as anything other than a journeyman midfielder? How, in the name of football justice, does Ashley Cole get to be a first-choice defender? Steven Gerrard aside, not one of the men on show on Saturday looked anything other than ordinary.

Watching our boys stumble through the words of the national anthem to a gallant draw with the might of Macedonia, I came to realise that we have to accept a sad truth; that I am lucky to be part of that was around when we were the best in the world, because my children, and I suspect their children will never experience the feeling of being the finest on the planet.

After the drudgery of Germany in the summer, it looks like being a long autumn. Yes, we are top of the group, and no, one bad result does not mean we are suddenly a poor team. But the real problem is that with the talent available in this squad and beyond, there is no hope of us being anything other than glorious also-rans.

It pains me that we will have to accept that we are a top-ten team, but no more -- the equivalent of a mid-table Premiership team which will never get into Europe but will do enough to stave off relegation, a kind of national equivalent of Wigan or Charlton. And for those of you with ambitions beyond our national team’s capabilities, consider what we have achieved since 1966 in the World Cup and European Championships -- not forgetting the times we did not even qualify for the finals.

Given this historical truth, my view is that we should at least go down fighting and get rid of the lugubrious extras who make up our current squad. Let’s have a team which will go down fighting, playing the flowing football like Alf Ramsey’s wingless wonders of 1966, without inhibition, like the amazing Greek side of Euro 2002. Let’s have less of the gas lamppost Peter Crouch and more of the electric Shaun Wright-Phillips and Jermaine Defoe. Why not even give the youngster Theo Walcott a run-out (even if it is past his bedtime)?

I am no different to millions of Englishmen who want a national team to be proud of. We work hard and lead pretty mundane existences (especially compared to the champagne lifestyle of most footballers). So is it really too much to ask that our national team plays exciting and creative football that we can all watch with an element of pride?

Steve McClaren may not come over as the brightest lamp in the street, and Terry Venables has, to say the least, a chequered history. But they both know their football and Venables’ Euro 1996 team played some lovely football. So come on guys, throw away the shackles, get the lads playing exciting football and to hell with the consequences.