Despite football fever gripping the nation following England’s progression into Euro 2020’s semi-finals, I remain indifferent about the whole jingoist odyssey.

This tempering of euphoria borne from 50 years experience living with England flattering to deceive in tournament football, middle-age apathy about a game I’ve loved all my life, along with prevailing low mood manifesting from current life challenges.

Footnote – For the uninitiated, my penning of Euro 2020 isn’t a typo, despite now existing in the subsequent year. The tournament was initially scheduled for 2020, but COVID-19 felt moved to shut that particular avenue of pleasure. The competition postponed until 2021, but maintaining its original brand name.

Anyhow, regardless of my curmudgeonliness, it’s nice to write about a positive form of fever, as opposed to the aforementioned pathogen which’s spent the last 18 months messing with the populace’s body and mind…… Football fever usurps coronavirus fever any time.

I also have to admit, as much as yours truly protests about diffidence towards the Euro 2020 tournament, I cheer as heartily as any fan when we English score a goal. Shamelessly punching the air in elation at the final whistle of every game where we prevail.

I’ve actually only watched two tournament matches from start to finish (England’s matches with Scotland and the Ukraine) since the whole football fest began. The Scotland game, which concluded as a 0-0 draw, was dreadful fare. An experience made worse by viewing the second half with a soundscape of my mum’s raucous snoring. An aural accompaniment I’d venture which wouldn’t be out of place within an intelligence agency torture facility.

Mercifully, watching yesterday evening’s England v Ukraine match played out without cacophonous background snorting. My nation’s 4-0 victory watched in relative silence, apart from Guy Mowbray and Jermaine Jenas’ commentary.

Something I could at least mute if it started irritating me; sadly a facility not available to me if the old lady starts snoring. Thankfully, though, yesterday evening that tribulation never materialised.

Instead, my mum’s mid-game input came in the form of her own quirky type of sniping sports punditry. These polemics including “It’s about time Kane started playing well….. He’s been like my arse for most of the tournament.” Although, a whimsical insight into the England captain’s footballing input at the start of Euro 2020, not a simile I wish to dwell on!

Maggie’s observation about Harry Kane playing well yesterday was indeed spot on. His two goals, along with net busters from Harry Maguire and Jordan Henderson, along with his teams utter control of the sporting fixture, contributing towards a rare episode of viewing comfort for England supporters.

Anyhow, well done to the England lads. As a rabid attention seeker, who knows, if you keep up the good work and win the next two games, prevailing as European champions, it may re-ignite my love of football…… GJ Strachan hanging onto the coattails of your success, shamefully basking in your glory, despite utter indifference prior to and during the event.

Have you no shame, Strachan?!……. Altogether now:-

“It’s coming home,
It’s coming home, it’s coming
Football’s coming home
It’s coming home,
It’s coming home, it’s coming
Football’s coming home………”