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Hint of a flame beneath the ice

World Cup 2002: He has named his sensible, Ikea squad. Now Sven must avoid being engulfed by English passions

Andrew Longmore
Sunday 12 May 2002 00:00 BST
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Sven Goran Eriksson wore the look of a man with a severe migraine. He had chosen his World Cup squad, that was easy, but what would he wear to the ball? White tie or diamonds, the invitation said. So which would it be? "I don't know, I'll have to think about that," said the Swede, aware that his appearance at David Beckham's pre-World Cup bash today would renew the interest of the paparazzi who had only recently pitched camp outside his Regent's Park apartment. The warmth of Dubai where England will train for the next week and the company of the best footballers in the country suddenly seemed a comforting option.

The announcement of a World Cup squad is a test in itself for any coach, the initial trial of strength between accusers and accused. Why was Graeme Le Saux ignored? How heartbroken was Phil Neville? Will we win the World Cup? Eriksson walked the fine line between quiet confidence and unhealthy jingoism with the skill of a highwire artist. Yes, he will be telling his players to believe that winning the World Cup is possible – no headline there, then – but no, he would not be meekly putting his head in the noose by pronouncing that the trophy was all but in the cabinet at Soho Square, a strange temptation to which both Graham Taylor and Kevin Keegan succumbed.

Eriksson could hardly be taunted for lacking patriotism, but his answers were neatly balanced. He could, he said, understand why inside the country, England might be regarded as one of the favourites for the tournament. "But looking from the outside, that is not the case," he added. "We are, how you do say it, dark horses?" Indeed.

No matter how varied the nature of the question, the purpose was the same. Could Eriksson be made to say that England would win the World Cup? It is generally recognised that to win the trophy, teams require six world-class players, said one journalist. "Do we have six world-class players?" Eriksson reeled off the obvious candidates, while turning the question back to the interviewer. "Which club would say that Gerrard or Scholes, Beckham or Owen are not world-class players? That would not be a surprise to anyone." Neatly done. We have world- class players, but enough? Who knows?

Only once did Eriksson let the mask of impassivity slip. Asked what the challenge of taking a team to the World Cup for the first time in his career would mean to him personally, he replied: "I am very happy and very proud. It is a challenging new experience for me. You always dreamt of doing that, of reaching the final day, of course, it would be nice to be there on the bench. That would be the biggest day in anyone's life." Not quite an emotional flood tide, but at least a hint of a flame beneath the ice.

There was a symmetry to the England squad which reflected a neat and tidy mind. Eriksson worked on the simple principle of allowing two players for every position; plus one extra goalkeeper making 23. He resisted the temptation to throw in a true unknown like Blackburn Rovers' Matt Jansen, preferring the rugged marking skills of Arsenal's Martin Keown. Reality dictates that both right full-backs will be injured at the same time and three central midfielders will all succumb to a mystery virus simultaneously, but Eriksson has given himself a number of additional options. Danny Mills can play centre-back; Owen Hargreaves can fill in on the right or double as a holding midfielder or play on the left. It is a sensible, all-purpose, Ikea squad, well balanced in terms of youth and experience, with clean lines and, Keown apart, no rough edges.

Having listed those 23 names, the Swede has now to avoid being engulfed by English passions. Eriksson has travelled more miles than Neil Armstrong in search of England footballers and in one memorable night in Munich lifted the self-confidence of the England team to implausible heights. But engineering enough points from games against Sweden, Argentina and Nigeria to gain a place in the last 16 will be an altogether more complex trick. Survival is Eriksson's cautious initial aim. "After that," he says, "anything can happen."

Apart from recent skirmishes with the paparazzi, Eriksson's image has remained almost inviolate. Eyebrows have been raised by his recent plunge into the pages of the tabloids and by his instinct for commercial exploitation. Computer games, classical CDs, supermarkets, soft drinks, cars. You name it, under the deft guidance of IMG, Sven will put his name to it, which some would regard as his right, others as an undignified dumbing down of a role which already earns him £3m. The one consolation is that we will not have to thumb through Sven's World Cup diary in the aftermath of triumph or disaster. The Football Association have rightly censored that one.

What is strange is that, after 15 months, we know so little of the real man. Players who have worked with Eriksson talk of his calm assurance, his effective communication skills and his strength of character. When they look across at the bench, they see a man at ease with himself, someone who absorbs rather than radiates pressure, someone who is big enough to do the job. Players find that comforting. At St James' Park, as England made desperately hard work of subduing a surprisingly spirited Albanian side and post-Munich euphoria washed over the stands, Eriksson kept his distance. He did not come to the touchline once. The message was clear enough. You are playing, you sort it out.

His elevation of Beckham to permanent captain has been inspired. Empowering the workforce, they would call it in one of those Swedish management manuals which have flooded the market since Eriksson's success.

Yet the character of the coach will be revealed as surely as that of his team over the coming campaign when every nuance of selection is dissected and every misjudgement pilloried. Somewhere between now and 2 June, Eriksson will need to blend a degree of tactical flexibility into the 4-4-2 formation which has been his preference since the early days as a coach in Sweden. It is no secret how England will play. They will play more like Liverpool than Manchester United, which will put a premium on fitness and endurance in the humid conditions of Japan. But, for the first time since Terry Venables guided England to the semi- finals of Euro 96, the England players will enter a major tournament enjoying complete faith in their coach.

"I have not picked the players because they are young," said Eriksson last Thursday. "I have picked them because they are good. Now we will see if they are good enough." Much the same judgement will be passed on the England coach over the next few weeks.

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