[Peep.]
Sofyan rolled it to Fajr and we had the second half. I stood on my white line and did the sums one more time because that is the whole of management when you strip the shouting off it. Sums.
45 minutes. 1 goal. 11 men who could run and would not stop, against 11 who had spent 45 minutes finding out they could not make a clear chance.
I did not want a team talk in me. I wanted the clock. Everything I had told them in that dressing room was already coming true out on the grass, and I could see it from the first England touch of the half. They did not come at us.
They passed it sideways. Stones to Maguire. Maguire to Walker. Walker back to Stones.
3 centre-halves knocking a ball across their own 18-yard line with a 1-goal lead and 45 minutes to kill. I stood there and felt the whole thing tip a degree in the dark, the way a ship tips before anybody on deck has noticed.
They were not trying to beat us any more. They were trying not to lose.
