It didnâ€t exactly feel like a thrilling three-way shootout for the role of Englandâ€s top gun No 10. At least, not for the opening hour anyway. Wembley was a sodden place at kick-off, the rain falling in huge slow flakes, the kind of rain that puts a lid on the world. And for long periods this was a strange, bloodless experience, a World Cup qualifier with very little qualification at stake beyond the dwindling hopes of Serbia.
By the end, however, there was at least a sense that something had happened here. You have to hand it to Thomas Tuchel, currently cresting a wave as Englandâ€s first master of negging, founding member of the donâ€t really give a toss school of international management.
Tuchel got what he wanted out of this, whether it was an act of power-play, a twitch of the thread, or just lighting a fire under both Jude Bellingham and Phil Foden, cast in the tole of underlings and finishers here, and by the end the most interesting elements on the pitch.
The current England double header was always going to end up as a kind of selection playoff. Much had been made in the build-up of Tuchelâ€s comment that he wonâ€t play Harry Kane, Jude Bellingham and Phil Foden in the same team. This became a little blurred. What he meant was: we will only have one No 10, one central creator, no jamming in the full hand of stars, no trying to eat all the biscuits in the selection box at once. And one of these star players, that guy you like, is going to miss out as a result.
So there was duly a mass intake of breath early in the day when it emerged that Bellingham wouldnâ€t start here. This is the point after all. English football loves its stars to a fault. It is in many ways the key issue, the oldest issue, repeated though its many cycles, a riff on the basic perception of English failure, the conviction always that something is being stifled here, by the roundhead who fails to unleash and unload, or by his counterpart, the decadent who overindulges these man-boy princelings.
Morgan Rogers started the match at Wembley in the coveted No 10 role. Photograph: Tom Jenkins/The Guardian
Currently Tuchel is wielding the scythe. This is his thing, the destroyer of worlds, iconoclast, the fearless frontier preacher in skinny jeans and rain-sodden puffa coat, out there proselytising about the English and their vanity.
Tuchel has been very clear. He wants a structure not a group of the coolest guys, a selection by aura. And in many ways it worked here as on 65 minutes, with England already 1-0 up, we finally got it, the shootout of the No 10s. We got energy, mood-shift, a four-man blazing squad entering the field of play: Jude, Phil, Eberechi Eze and, er, Jordan Henderson.
Bellinghamâ€s arrival drew the biggest noise of the night , the “Juuuude†shouts, the sense of people sitting up in their seats, even if felt more like a fame-event, a celebrity spot, like coming to London and seeing Jeremy Vine on the tube.
“There is no problem with Judeâ€, Tuchel has said, despite dropping him, calling him repulsive and suggesting some of the players donâ€t like him. But there is a problem. Where do you play him? Is he actually a No 10? What position does he play anyway?
Here it was drifting right-sided attacker, which seemed to work against these slightly bedraggled opponents. Foden gave a good turn as a false 9, less restricted than when he plays as a winger, where he has a tendency to whirl around on his left foot like a shopping trolley with a broken wheel.
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Eze scored a brilliant goal, made by Bellingham passing quickly to Foden, who glided forward and produced just the right pass for Eze to open his body and bend a shot in off the bar. And if it felt like a moment of clarity for Tuchel, so did the performance of Morgan Rogers as man in possession of that central role, who was probably Englandâ€s best player before they took the lead on 28 minutes via a lovely volleyed finish from Bukayo Saka.
Bukayo Saka gave England the lead with a fine finish. Photograph: Tom Jenkins/The Guardian
There were some other bright signs. Nico Oâ€Reilly made left-back for England at Wembley look like no big deal. The midfield pivot is mobile and fit for purpose. If nobody has called Elliot Anderson and Declan Rice And and Dec yet, then why not?
So, two from three it is then. That seems to be the deal with the No 10s. One of Rogers-Bellingham-Foden will probably miss out. The missing element for now is Cole Palmer, who is actually Englandâ€s best No 10, and also best player alongside Harry Kane, and who seems perfectly suited to international football in style and manner and basic creative intelligence. One for another day and another camp. But even on a dead night in a dead game like this Tuchelâ€s England seem bracingly ruthless.
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