Never mind the cool head, Sven has Lady Luck on side

World Cup: Eriksson's golden touch travels all the way to the East on a day England lost direction but found fortune

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The world now at Beckham's feet

Relieved England left clutching at draws

Close shave: Beckham strikes in nick of time

Captain's strike saves Gerrard from the last-chance saloon

No substitute for the class of Sheringham

Becks and goalless Gelsenkirchen ensure happy anniversary for Motty

Swede's striking changes swing the balance

Versatile Jansen puts his case for the left

'It's the best feeling ever. The team is unbelievable'

Road to the finals: from disarray to relief and joy

One way or another, the alcopops had to flow. Victory and the contemplation of a young, multi-talented side gracing the shores of Asia; defeat and the prospect of a national drowning of sorrows. Sven Goran Eriksson has travelled miles in search of the nature of Englishness, and in 93 minutes of suffocating disappointment and a final minute of ultimate fulfilment at Old Trafford yesterday, he at last came to understand the extent of his adopted nation's eccentricity.

England tried so hard to throw away the chance of a place in the 2002 World Cup finals. Twice, the Greeks led, twice England came back, the second instance barely a minute from the end of extra time through a David Beckham free-kick. Beforehand, the stadium announcer had summoned God to England's side. In reality, manna came from an altogether unexpected heaven. By virtue of Germany's inability to beat Finland, England can roll up the maps of Europe and study the contours of Korea and Japan.

The theme from The Great Escape has never seemed so appropriate. Teddy Sheringham, the first goal-scorer, looked anxiously at the bench to check the score from Germany and David Beckham, who had lifted his team almost single-handedly through the second half, led the lap of honour which marked his final graduation to the officer class. All afternoon, Beckham had peppered the Greek goal with free-kicks without luck. Each time, in the second half, Sheringham badgered him for a turn. With the seconds ticking away, Sheringham's demands became more insistent and Beckham's defence increasingly flimsy. "I was determined to take that last one," said Sheringham. "But Becks said no. So I looked at his armband and said: "You're the governor". And he was, as Eriksson also acknowledged.

"He did everything today," said the Swede. "He played one of the best games I've seen him play. He was a real big captain for England today and I was very happy he scored the crucial goal." Whether the free-kick should have been granted at all by the referee, Dick Jol, was not a thought which detained England's followers long into the night. "A festival of free-kicks," Otto Rehhagel, the German coach of the Greeks, said.

On Beckham's hallowed ground, Eriksson also proved beyond question that, apart from his many textbook coaching virtues, he is blessed with the one quality Napoleon demanded of his generals. For all his calm, his assurance, his obstinate refusal to indulge in the sort of hype demanded of his predecessors, he is lucky; naturally, ebulliently and beautifully lucky.

The golden thread can be traced way back to his first game in charge, against Spain at Villa Park. The crowd were starting to get restless at just the moment England, Eriksson's England, opened the scoring. Michael Owen saved blushes in Newcastle against lowly Albania and, yesterday, his winning lottery ticket was still valid. England played poorly but claimed the rollover.

"It was a fantastic football afternoon," said the England coach. "Very dramatic. Hopefully every game in the future, [pause for effect] will not be like this. It's very difficult to compare this feeling with others in my career. This is big, this is England. With Benfica, Lazio or Roma, there were 100,000 fans. Here, there are millions, millions. I can't compare."

For the Swede, this was emotion beyond belief because, no less than the increasingly fraught capacity crowd at Old Trafford, he was contemplating the anti-climax of a play-off against Ukraine, the consolation he had talked about during the week. It was necessary, even in the euphoria, to recall the parlous qualifying position Eriksson inherited from Kevin Keegan early in the year.

With England anchored to the foot of the table, with one point from two games, the extent of the repair work was plain for all to see. "I would have been happy to claim a play-off place in February, very happy," he said. To lift England to automatic qualification, even by a subterranean route with a team of patchy quality but uniform character, raises the stature of a coach already revered across the continent.

Having worked their way back into pole position for automatic qualification for the 2002 World Cup finals, and having destroyed Germany along the way, England stumbled at the final hurdle against a lively Greek side devoid of any pressure and unexpectedly full of vigour. By the time England had summoned their nerve and sinew to retrieve a woeful first half, the Greeks had the scent of an upset in their nostrils.

The analysis of a poor performance could, Eriksson said, wait until the morning, but scrutiny of the video will leave the Swede in no doubt that the team have barely reached base camp, let alone set off on the trek towards the summit. With Steven Gerrard a shadow of himself and Paul Scholes strangely tentative after an early booking, the England engine room lacked its usual thumping rhythm. Not that Emile Heskey, who had one of his dopier afternoons, helped the cause much.

What had been conveniently forgotten in the heady anticipation of glory was the significance of Michael Owen's absence. It is not just his role of chief goal-scorer that England forfeited the moment the striker fell to the Anfield turf two weeks ago. With him went the focus of England's tactical aggression, the outlet for the long balls driven with such devastating effect over German soil not a month before. The framed photos advertising Germany 1­England 5 outside the Theatre of Dreams advertised the expectations of the England hordes; erased from the memory was the laboured victory over Albania, a team without the talent of the Greeks.

Only when Andy Cole arrived did England build up any hint of a consistent momentum and it still took one point-blank save from Nigel Martyn to keep England in the game. Moments later came Sheringham's timely introduction, swiftly cancelled out by Rio Ferdinand's flash of carelessness. "We had the game in our hand," said Eriksson. "Then we let it go again."

With news of Germany's struggle against Finland, a fresh shadow of possibility fell over Old Trafford. An equaliser would be enough. When the dust has settled on the campaign, there will be the sensible and balanced appraisal of the true potential of Eriksson's England, at least in the mind of the man who matters. National quality control disappeared into the smoke and mirrors of yesterday's extraordinary finale. Now, 240 more days of speculation to endure.

"This is the first step towards something which could be very beautiful," Eriksson said. "We are satisfied today, but tomorrow we will do better." If Beckham and Owen stay fit and Eriksson's golden touch travels long distance, who can anticipate where this magical mystery tour might end.