James Lawton: Eriksson's reputation awaits the verdict of the Niigata jury

The jury deadlocked in the case of Sven Goran Eriksson and an England team which has so far defied all consistent analysis will surely move a lot closer to a verdict today in Niigata when Denmark, conquerors of France, will again attempt to separate football myth from reality.

Uncelebrated they may be, but the Danes have already proved that their quick, functional football – based on solid defence and an ability to marshal counter-attacks – can ask biting questions of any opposition.

Their most probing interrogation will almost certainly be conducted by the wide raiders Dennis Rommedahl and Jesper Gronkjaer. The English full-backs Danny Mills and Ashley Cole will do well to leave the witness box without showing too many signs of serious dishevelment.

But, for the moment at least, these are mere details. The central question concerns Eriksson, the foreign mercenary who in terms of achievement has already made a nonsense of the claims of native-born football men who said he would drown in the psychology and culture of the English game. Not since the triumphant days of Sir Alf Ramsey has the portfolio of an England manager bulged so impressively.

Consider just the broad sweep of his 18-month-old regime. He brought England from the death throes of a doomed World Cup qualifying campaign to a smashing of the German demon in Munich. He delivered first place in the qualifying group. Here in Japan he has survived the Group of Death – and beaten and eliminated the brilliantly equipped Argentinian favourites. In the scorching heat of Osaka he produced a shut-down of the Super Eagles of Nigeria worthy of his best days in Serie A. So is Eriksson the football genius for whom England's stricken international football pined so long? Or is he the child of fortune one of his predecessors, Don Revie, strived to be, with a wardrobe crammed with superstition?

The truth is that over the last few weeks here the evidence has heaped one contradiction upon another.

Against Sweden in the opening game England were desperate. Their performance fell into the category reserved for teams slipping beyond hope of redemption. They got worse as the game wore on. They played a long-ball game from the stone age of English football. They were on tramlines heading nowhere and Eriksson confessed that the future demanded "faith" – and perhaps a little charity from the hugely gifted Argentinians.

England did benefit a little from some of that, but not enough of it to take away the gloss of an astonishingly improved performance.

Eriksson's team now had width and composure and mighty performances from Nicky Butt and, most significantly of all, Paul Scholes. But then here came another troubling question. By how much did England's effort benefit from the injury of Owen Hargreaves? Certainly it forced Eriksson to move Scholes to far and away his best position as a midfield marauder and to introduce Trevor Sinclair, who on the left quickly showed the benefits of playing in your natural position.

Of course Eriksson would not be the first England manager to draw an ultimate benefit from circumstances beyond his control. The World-Cup winning Ramsey's selection for the final against Germany would have been desperately complicated by a fit Jimmy Greaves. Instead, the supremely able striker was haunted by injury fears and Ramsey could more comfortably take the option of the match-winning Geoff Hurst and the workhorse Roger Hunt. Here, Eriksson's team settled into workable place the moment the unfortunate Hargreaves was required to leave the field.

The worry now is to what extent the national celebration over last week's defeat of Argentina is built on substance rather than unrealistic hope. Of course it was a striking victory and it produced some marvellous individual performances, with Rio Ferdinand, Sol Campbell and David Seaman close behind Scholes and Butt in the role of honour. But Argentina made their contribution with arrogance and neglect. They never really tested the vulnerabilities of Mills and Cole on the flanks, and in view of what Michael Owen had done to them four years earlier on that melodramatic night in St-Etienne the space they granted him in Sapporo was staggering.

It means that there is a danger that England's famous triumph last Friday – which carried similar impact to the storming of Munich, may just be subject to the kind of inflation that has bedevilled the economy, and generated such despair, in the homeland of the vanquished. In all of this Eriksson's reputation as the saviour of England, and a potential World Cup-winner, rides between heaven and hell in Niigata. His recovery of purpose against Argentina was as remarkable as the performance against Sweden was depressing. His sturdy defence of Owen, who played remarkably well against Argentina without ending his run of four games without a goal, has been typical of his support for England's most striking asset in the void left by the limitations of injury on the captain David Beckham.

Eriksson has also nourished Beckham in a difficult time but whether the reward of a penalty and a goal-bearing corner has been sufficient reward is another question. Beckham's broader contribution has been slight indeed. Further complicating the work in the jury room is the fact that in 270 minutes of open play in this World Cup England have yet to score. That alone is sharp encouragement for the Danish coaching duo of Morten Olsen and Michael Laudrup, for whom Jon Dahl Tomasson and Rommedahl pole-axed the Argentinians with fine composure on the break. Olsen, who with Laudrup was a member of the 'Danish Dynamite' team of the 1980s which, like the present one, flirted with world conquest, says: "If you are counting 'stars' maybe we do not compete with England, but as a coach I'm happy we have the means to win. There is a lot of belief in the team. I was very pleased with the way the boys handled a very difficult group. They have done a hell of a job and it may not be finished yet."

No, indeed. For England there is another intriguing, and perhaps most hopeful question. If the Danes insist they have not finished their job, have England truly started theirs? Again the evidence, despite the shattering of Argentina, is less than unequivocal. We cannot know if England are about to define their limits, or whether they went beyond them in their defiance of Juan Veron and Ariel Ortega? We will know, along with the jury, in Niigata this afternoon.