The morning after the night before and no future in England football’s dreaming for another year at least. Dramatic empathy as well, I thought, as the mists closed in and the rain swirled down from a bleak sky on the journey to the office. More Thane of Cawdor than Harry the King…. No doubt the foul weather matched the mood of many an English hangover this morning.
A lot of business development chat over the last few weeks has involved Euro ’20, the semi-final, the final. Could we? Would we? To be honest it’s been great to talk about and be caught up in the burgeoning expectation and emotion, especially after such a challenging 18 months. I tried, however, not to get too swept up in it all despite my own hopes. Memories of ’90, ’96, ’98 and – well, you know the rest – are burned deep. I opted to try and keep a level head yesterday against a nagging feeling that Italy would prove to be too strong; to try and not be drawn in by the punditry that everywhere seemed to relegate a very fine Italian team to the side-lines so overwhelmingly effusive it was of praise to Southgate and his men. The fact that Italy hadn’t lost a match in three years…
How would we feel this morning, I wonder, if our collective expectations had been different? Not “it’s coming home” but “how magnificent to be here at all”. Underdogs as opposed to pundit favourites. Made me think about management. Not just game management, but managing expectations generally as well. Someone once told me “Never overpromise what and when you can deliver. Always keep it real so that if you do, then, beat your own promises, expectations are exceeded.” Southgate and his team seemed to be trying to be fair: they were concentrating on drowning out the noise, keeping calm and staying composed.
Managing expectations – something we all need to think about, perhaps.
Still gutted, mind.
