The Eriksson smorgasbord fails to satisfy

Alan Smith wears white boots and dyes his hair but his talent is utterly authentic. We have, however, known this for quite some time, which made it both ironic and rather sad that of all his considerable achievements in his full appearance for England at Villa Park surely the least of them was getting "discovered".

That, though, was the official line from Sven Goran Eriksson after his team's otherwise essentially worthless 1-1 draw with Portugal. But then what else could Eriksson claim for another exercise in squandered time and opportunity?

Discovering Smith is a bit like spotting that London buses are red. The only real question about him was whether he could shed the thuggish tendency which led among other negative impressions, to his formal dismissal from a European Cup semi-final 18 moths ago for kicking a Spanish player up in the air in front of the main stand.

On Saturday Smith looked entirely the business; quick, strong, bright and wonderfully accomplished when he nodded in the perfect forward cross from his Elland Road team-mate Lee Bowyer. That also showed us the benefit of playing real games alongside team-mates with whose innate little moves you have become familiar. Contrast this with the experience of Joe Cole, one of the few original young talents in the land. Once again he was given a walk-on role with scarcely enough time to say hello let alone put a real stamp on things.

The England coach's handling of friendlies, his disposition of the players who have to be begged and borrowed from the Premiership, is now running way past a joke. If there was any doubt about this it surely dissolved the moment Eriksson explained how it was that Costinha was allowed to score with a free header from a corner.

He said the problem lay in the number of substitutes, who, as usual came flooding on to the field in the second half, this time rendering a match which had not been without some intrigue into something you might encounter while walking the dog through your local park. The confusion, explained Sven, was compounded by the fact that Portuguese coach, Agostinho Oliveira, also brought on a new team in the second half. This meant that England not only had to work out who they were playing with but also who they were playing against.

There was an additional difficulty. Portugal knew the answers to both these important questions. England had an edge in the first half. In the second they didn't have a prayer. Portugal had another advantage and it was one which must have have given the watching Sir Bobby Robson a glow right down to his toes. His name is Hugo Viana, and if Robson's purchase of the teenager from Sporting Lisbon for £8.5m isn't one of the great steals of the decade some of us might be tempted to get our eyes tested.

Viana put in a 45-minute stint of astonishing maturity – and beauty. He moved around the field with the authority of a young Bobby Charlton, passing the ball both short and long but always relevantly. His team-mates revolved around him like marionettes waiting for a tug from the master puppeteer. That England do not appear to have anyone vaguely in the same league for wit and easy, functional skill is one of Eriksson's burdens, no doubt. But the point here is that Joe Cole does have arresting skill, he does have strength in the tackle, and what is he ever going to learn at the international level by cameo spots in matches which have become quite meaningless?

The Portuguese coach was asked about his nation's hopes for Viana. "We think he is a very talented young player and in two years time [when Portugal hosts the European Championship] we expect him to be one of Europe's top players." That means grooming and learning and exposure to authentic examinations of his potential on the international field. He had such a one at Villa Park, if only for the duration of one half. He had a role, all his colleagues knew what it was, and the result was the clearest evidence that Portugal's football, which remains a beautiful mystery of elusive fulfilment, has at least one new point of focus.

How do England reflect on the exercise? They can state the obvious that indeed Smith has talent and, when properly channelled, a superb competitive temperament. They can conclude that Bowyer is a useful squad member. They can regret that David Dunn, who is spoken of with much optimism, swiftly got involved in an exchange of tackles which left him struggling to raise the mildest gallop. He did, however, play one pass of bracing imagination. They can worry about David James, successor-elect to David Seaman but still a goalkeeper struggling to prove that he can be any more than a sometimes inspired shot-stopper. Owen Hargreaves, Bayern Munich's ubiquitous utility man, looked strong and mostly poised, but, given England's lack of sustained craft in midfield, he is surely destined to play there rather than go through the lengthy and highly risk business of learning how to play right-back while wearing an international shirt. Emile Heskey is surely mis-cast on the left wing.

These, such as they are, were the available fragments of analysis for England, along with confirmation that Rio Ferdinand has indeed moved on to a different and superior strata of the game. But almost of all them would have been readily available on a handful of Premiership videos. What we were supposed to see, as we are in all non-competitive international matches, is the turn of the coach's mind, the settling down of a team which knows who is it and what it is attempting to do.

Instead we had another serving of Sven's smorgasbord. It is becoming progressively insubstantial fare. On a cool, damp afternoon the spirit was first assailed by the return of those England supporters who drown in boos the national anthem of the opposing team. Smith played very well indeed, but not well enough to dispel the malice on the terraces and the confusion on the field. Not so long ago Eriksson was offering a dream. Now, you have to fear, he will do well to avoid a nightmare he is helping to create.