England v Sweden

You may have noticed I’ve shied away from match report-style postings thus far – and there’s a few reasons for that.

• You’re well catered for elsewhere.

• I really haven't got the time.

• The people actually reading this thing (hello Graeme, hello dad) are almost certainly seeing more games than I am at the moment, so they don’t need me telling them who took a shy.

Anyway, having said all that … this is one. Sort of.

I’m struggling to recognise the England v Sweden game in some of the reports I’ve read and heard in the last 24 hours (“It’s all coming together for England!” Clive Tyldsley), so I thought I’d bash out my own greatly condensed take on it, just for the record.

Much was made before the match of Wayne Rooney’s first start of the tournament – and he brought plenty of industry and aggression to the forward line, a ballsy performance you somehow never quite believe is lurking within Owen or Crouch.

However, his lack of football in recent weeks was only too obvious in the dull edge to his usually razor-sharp game, as he found defenders robbing him of the ball probably far more frequently than he can ever remember. By the time he was substituted, regardless of what he thought of that decision, he was blowing hard.

Cole's opener for England was a thrilling and daring piece of skill. Alexandersson's headed clearance came to the Chelsea midfielder at an angle to the penalty area a good 35 yards out. Cole took the ball on his chest … I tell a lie, he almost pushed the ball into perfect position with his chest … and cracked a looping right-foot volley over Isaksson and in off his left post. The Swede had wandered a little far from his line, yes – but this was a goal of such glorious execution that he could have had Robinson alongside him and still not saved it.

While England controlled most of the first half, the second forty-five was a different story entirely. Sweden, in time-honoured fashion, harassed and unsettled England, particularly from corner kicks.

Linderoth's delivery from the left certainly had a dramatic and unnerving effect on the English defence. One such delivery found its way from Larsson’s head to safety only via Carragher’s arm, Robinson and the bar. Another saw Teddy Lukic find himself in space beyond reason and sense, only to again hit the woodwork.

So, when Sweden duly equalised, it was both merited and thoroughly, shamefully predictable.

Again, Linderoth delivered his corner to the near post, where Allback was advancing towards the flight of the ball, sauntering past Crouch and Beckham to rise, completely unchallenged, for a deft header which sent the ball beyond Robinson.

Gerrard arrived for Rooney to shore up the midfield where, despite Hargreaves’ encouraging shift, they were inferior to Sweden's determined running – with Beckham again posted missing.

He soon showed his attacking worth to a coach in possession of only one fully-fit striker he is actually willing to allow on the park; getting himself on the end of a lovely Joe Cole cross to head home from six yards.

Sweden, though, were not finished and - amid, frankly, comic scenes in the England defence - Larsson stabbed home.

Few England supporters will complain about their position in the tournament – in the last 16, with a match against the unfancied Ecuador between them and the quarter finals. However, there has been a distinct lack of style in their play - and a dearth of finesse and wit in their tactics - that makes it difficult for a neutral to say they hold much interest in seeing them progress, in this fashion at least.