Hand back the Falklands. Why not? FedEx over the Elgin Marbles. What’s the point of any of it anymore? They have put a German in charge of the England football team. It’s over.
Can there be a more depressing, or more obvious, sign of national decline than this utterly abject capitulation at the sport we love most – the game we invented, for God’s sake – to our greatest rivals? From Munich to Frankfurt to Hamburg they today must be howling at the appointment of Thomas Tuchel as England manager from the start of next year. The humiliation is searing.
Ignore if you want to the fact that appointing a foreign coach to any national team is very obviously cheating. By definition, a national team is a national effort. Everyone involved in it, from kit manufacturers to catering staff to players should, as a fundamental prerequisite, hail from the same land. But a German? Is nothing any longer sacred?
Yes, we had an Australian coaching the England cricket team for a bit.
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