UEFA Women's Euros #3: Good Times, Good Times..

The Neil Diamond song, Sweet Caroline, an anthem of English football, has the lines:

“Good times never seemed so good
I’ve been inclined
To believe they never would”.

If you are a fan of English football, believing that good times never would is what they teach you at boot camp. It was with that belief branded into my soul that I set off for Wembley that Sunday morning.

I have never been shy to admit that England are the team I support in international competitions: partly because of where I grew up as a child and now currently live, and partly because I think I hate myself. Imagine having a smorgasbord of choice of which international team to follow because your own national team never make it to these tournaments, and then your heart decides to choose England.

So when I applied for the Women’s Euros 2022 finals ticket in the ballot last year, it was with very little expectation that England would be there. I just wanted to watch good football, the tickets were not exorbitantly priced (mine were £30, a fraction of what mens’ tickets would cost) and I figured the finals would always feature two very good sides.

But sometimes life ad-libs the script you’ve memorised, and after a run of magnificent wins, the Lionesses did me a solid. Those tickets, £30 worth, suddenly became the hottest item in town - but no way was I going to part with them now…

Wem-ber-ley

Our initial seats at Wembley were in the sticks, as they call it - or in the highest tier of the stadium. It wasn’t the best, but to be truthful, I was glad to just be there.

View from ‘The Sticks’ - Block 532, Wembley Stadium, 31/7/2022
Pic by author

The first half of the game was very nervy for me. In all their earlier games, England had always needed about 15-20 minutes to settle into the game, but as the first half wore on, it felt like every time Germany had the ball they were going to score. With the run of play, against the run of play - regardless, my pessimistic bones told me we were going to concede and concede soon. And so when it ended 0-0 at half time, I took a deep breath that was laden with feelings of trepidation. This was where the dream was going to end, I told myself, so I prepared to my poor heart for disappointment. Inclined that it never would, you know?

Heady Heights

Unfortunately for one member of our party of three, vertigo kicked in at the height where our seats were and at half time we spoke to the customer service team to see if we could be reallocated to other seats. Thankfully, there were seats available in the lower stands and it was around the 60th minute that we managed to find seats close to each other.

I stood up to leave my seat which was right behind the goal England were attacking at that point, and as I was making my way down the steps, I saw a long pass from deep right to the feet of a forward. I had no idea who made the pass or who received it at that point, but I saw the forward run and made the shot over the head of the keeper.

I was staring at the ball, and for a millisecond, from where I was standing, it looked like it was going to go over. My heart began to sink just a tiny bit - and then I saw the trajectory of the ball dropping.. dropping.. dropping.. right into the back of the net. The ball wasn’t loose in the back of the stands. It was nestled lovingly in the bottom corner for a hot second before it spilled back out, met by a dejected Kathrin Hendrich who had sprinted down the field in chase of Ella Toone when the delightfully placed pass from Keira Walsh landed at Toone’s feet.

Screams of elation. Jubilation. Scores of people jumping up and down. Pandemonium. I felt someone next to me grab my shoulders - no idea at this moment whether it was a he or a she, in all honesty - and we just held each other’s arms and jumped up and down and up and down. England had scored, deadlock broken. 1-0.

It was with a step, a skip and a pumped fist that I got to the seats I was meant to be at, half-way between the halfway line and the goal England were attacking. And as I sat down, I heard the crowd sing the dreaded song. “It’s coming home.. It’s coming home.. Football’s Coming Home.”

Lionesses
Pic by author

“No no”, I shouted to no one in particular, “not yet!”. Because you do not jinx a 1-0 lead by singing a victory song way too soon.

And jinx it we did because Germany came back with tenacity, speed and vengeance. Less than 4 minutes after the England goal, Lina Magull rattled a shot off the bar, a signal of intent of things to come. Germany tightened the pressure, with wave and wave of attacks incoming, and they strengthened the attack by bringing Sydney Lohmann off the bench.

I always feel teams are at their most lethal just after they go a goal down, because the possibilities are still there. And no team is perhaps more dangerous at this point than a well-oiled Germany attack machine. A number of failed attempts at goal saw Germany solidify their intent, and a well worked play from defence ultimately saw Lina Magull bring the game to 1-1 - and extra time.

Time Added On

My heart flitted between the fear of enduring another 30 minutes of angst, and the hope that we could maybe pull something off and not take it to penalties. When the whistle blew signifying the start of the first half of extra time, my nerves started to fray quite a bit. I lowered myself onto the concrete walkway in front of my plastic seat, watching the game through the spaces in between the chairs and heads in front of me. It was like watching a horror movie - you want to see, but you also are terrified of what would unfold.

It was at this opportune point in time that my watch, which has a heart rate monitor among other things, buzzed on my wrist. I looked at it. “You have an elevated heart rate and seem stressed,” it said. “Would you like some relaxation techniques?”

I don’t think the best relaxation techniques in the world would have stopped my heart rate soaring into the low 120s from its usual steady cadence of 62 at rest. Still 1-1 at half time of extra time with the threat of penalties looming, I sat back in my seat and steeled myself. Horror story or not, I willed myself to sit through it. I was at Wembley and I needed to see whatever happened not through my fingers. Did Sarina, meticulous planner of all possible outcomes, practice penalties, I wondered to myself, as the referee blew the whistle for the final fifteen.

Record Breaking In So Many Ways
Pic by author

For the first few minutes both teams kept to the midfield, no one team really trying to make a real run at goal. I remember little of those first few minutes, until England won a corner. It looked like Chloe Kelly was going to take it, but Lauren Hemp came over took her place. Kelly meanwhile meandered in the box.

And how opportune was that personnel switch?

Well, Hemp swung it in, Bronze went up for it and the ball fell to Kelly’s foot. She mistimed her first shot.. but it was not cleanly cleared by the German defence. On her second attempt she went to poke it past the keeper — for 2-1. Indescribable scenes at Wembley, complete with Kelly’s version of the iconic shirt-off celebration that Brandi Chastain immortalised in 1999. Was it now safe to hope?

The Final Countdown

And so the wait began, for the final 10 minutes. Germany would not be Germany if they did not go straight back into attack mode. Twice they made runs at the England goal, and twice Mary Earps grabbed the ball and lay down on the pitch for an extra few seconds. Often I felt annoyed when she did this for Manchester United, but this time I was all here for it – perspectives change when you’re desperate.

And as the clock ticked on, it was time for mind-games. I honestly thought that the game plan was to pull a few late cramps, but Sarina was cleverer than that. It was a bit more classy in a sense - forcing to play it in the top-right corner for as long as possible; drawing throw-ins, corners, whatever that would buy that extra few seconds without having to go down for an extra roll or three. I could see how annoying this could have been for the opposition, but oh, for an extremely biased me, it was perfect gamesmanship.

And then time added on came on - two minutes, and I started my watch to time it. Was that the worst two minutes of my life? Probably not. But it may well take a place in the top ten.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner: Kiera Walsh, the most underrated midfielder ever
Pic by author

They say one of the sweetest sounds you could hear when you are ahead is the final whistle. As much as it meant for me as a fan, I can’t imagine how that felt for the players themselves, the majority of whom had run their socks, shin-pads and shoelaces off for 120 minutes.  And when it came, the stadium erupted. I erupted. The only dismayed sounds from near me came from the three Americans behind my seat who were spent the game pretending they were neutral.

“Now”, I said, to my friend, “now, Wembley, you can sing it - “Three Lions on a shirt…”.

Where the men faltered at the final step last summer - the women completed the job.  Good times never felt so, so good.