England 1 Republic of Ireland 1

Match 74/12/1027 - Wednesday, 29th May 2013 - International

England (1) 1 Lampard 23
Republic of Ireland (1) 1 Long 13
Att. 80,126

Entrance: £30
Programme: £6
Mileage: 100/6,034

Match Report

This was a pointless exercise on every conceivable level. It was of no value, whatever the England manager might say, to Roy Hodgson and as a humble punter it was both a waste of time and money. If the Football Association thought that playing this fixture three weeks beyond the end of a long season, with no tournament football to grace the summer, an ideal way of both celebrating their 150th anniversary and also putting the dark spectre of the 1993 riot in Dublin behind them then they were seriously deluded.

Wembley has long since lost its shine with this punter. The hideous incident when Wales were the visitors has left its scar and from the moment I reach my seat I’m glancing at the people around me looking for the character that is going to be trouble and for this match against the Republic of Ireland the potential was almost inevitable. Ten minutes before the kick off the vacant seat alongside me was filled and straight away the radar said that this was going to be an uncomfortable 90 minutes and as soon as No Surrender was entered into God Save The Queen my worst fears were confirmed.

The FA’s David Bernstein praised the England fans for their good behaviour and in general I’m sure this was the case, but Mr Bernstein might want to give up his posh seat in the Royal Box to come and sit in the stalls with Joe Public and see what really goes on at Wembley. Perhaps the Scotland game might be a good day for him to conduct his awakening.

After 13 minutes in which the Irish largely dominated a long cross into the box found Shane Long who managed to get between the English central defenders to plant a firm header past Joe Hart. With so many Irish people living in England, and London in particular, it was inevitable that their support would be anywhere and everywhere in the stadium and the few that were around us showed their delight at their opening goal. My neighbour’s face contorted with rage, why have these aliens from another galaxy entered into his space, albeit that the nearest was a few hundred seats away. He was out of his seat, the verbal diarrhoea that he spouted showed blatant disregard for the women and children in his vicinity. This was it; this is what it’s like sitting in the cheap seats at just about every England game at Wembley.

When England are thrashing the might of San Marino or Andorra then the mindless morons are plunged into a stupor with the boredom of it all, unless the drink has already done the job. This is when Wembley becomes comfortable, put a competitive match in front of them, with an element of away support then it is a nightmare. The forthcoming Scotland match may have the potential for trouble but the qualifier against Poland almost doesn’t bear thinking about.

As fighting commenced in the aisles and the stewards did their best to contain it, Frank Lampard equalised within ten minutes and from that point my friend alongside indulged in nothing worse than the rest of us were doing, moaning about England. That’s the other feature of the England Wembley experience; the home side are not very interesting. They gave the ball away with reckless abandon and are as creative as a two-year old with a paintbrush.

Both sides huffed and puffed their way through a dour second half with the odd chance coming for both, but this was a game too far for everybody, the swim suits were packed and there is a sunbed waiting in an exotic location for our pampered few in the new white shirts that look far too similar to those worn by the Germans in the 1966 World Cup Final.

I wish I had signed off with the high of Tunbridge Wells’ Wembley visit instead of sullying this wonderful season among the dross that do their level best to ruin the reputation of the real England supporters.