The nation came together today in remembrance of that glorious day, forty years ago in 2006, when England lifted the World Cup in Berlin. Former players gathered at the nearly-completed Wembley Stadium to share memories, sign digital autographs and have a quick kickabout in front of the cameras. It's the first time that Sir David Beckham, 71, and Lord Rooney, 60, have spoken to each other since they fell out over which of them should buy Cheshire. Also present was little Theo Walcott, 57, hero of the legendary penalty shootout which brought the German nation to its knees and finally brought the golden trophy home. Only last year Theo's searing volley into the corner of the net was voted Murdoch TV's Sporting Moment of the Millennium (So Far), narrowly beating the Grimsby Tigers' unlikely 2038 Superbowl victory into second place. But it's England's 2006 World Cup triumph which is forever engraved on the hearts of every true red Englishman. [cardiac tattoos are now available at Ron's Aortal Portal, Swindon-on-Sea]
The 2006 campaign began against the mighty jungle warriors of Paraguay whose reputation for attacking flair resounded across the whole continent of South America. Even the mighty Brazilians feared the might of Ruiz's fearsome squad, but Sven-Goran Eriksson's inspired substitutions and a deft display of natural ball skills brought our boys a well deserved victory. Trinidad and Tobago were another really tough nut to crack, and it was all part of Sven's cunning tactics to leave scoring the winning goals until the very last minutes of the match. England's draw against Sweden was later revealed to be part of a match-fixing agreement between Sven and his fellow countrymen, although the death penalty wasn't in place for crimes of this magnitude at the time. And although Michael Owen never played football again, he still claims he'd never have entered politics and risen to the dizzy heights of Home Secretary without this lucky break. The football ratcheted up another notch with the epic battle against Ecuador. Never a team to underestimate, the South Americans threw everything they had at plucky England who only pulled through via a combination of raw talent, animal cunning and a fully mended metatarsal.
But it's the quarter final tussle against perky Portugal that the nation will long remember. Forever England's sporting nemesis, Scolari's boys kicked off intent on destroying our steely resolve in a psychological battle of wills. England dominated the first half with a performance which could under no circumstances be described as wishy-washy and embarrassing. In the second half Captain Becks was fortunate not to fall foul to a debilitating ankle injury which would have left him sitting impotently on the touchline, powerless to support his struggling team mates. And how fortunate that the angelic Wayne Rooney managed not to tread on the reproductive organs of the prostrate Ricardo Carvalho, instead nimbly hopping between his thighs and then comforting the unfortunate player in a show of touching emotion. Heavens, if he'd been sent off England would have been down to ten men and would probably have crumbled and miskicked everything in a hideously embarrassing penalty shootout. No, Gerrard's magnificent hat trick in the dying minutes of the game merely sealed the match ensuring that the most talented team won through without the need for any namby-pamby extra time.
We are unable to report details of the France England semi-final. The goalmouth incident between Thierry Henry and Lady Posh of Beckham remains sub judice, and all holograms of the event are still embargoed under Heat magazine's exclusive 99-year fashion embargo. However, just let it be said that we thrashed the French good and proper and that Sir David's knighthood was well justified.
All of which set up the classic Anglo-German final in Berlin. Much has been spoken of this mightiest of matches. Of how Big Roo ran rings around seven consecutive German players before kicking the ball home from sixty yards out. Of how Teutonic goalie Jens Lehmann was sent off for drinking a can of Pepsi Max in direct contradiction of sponsorship and marketing regulations. Of how the evil Argentinian referee awarded twelve unjust penalties against Our Lads, all of them valiantly seen off by Man Of The Tournament Paul Robinson. Of how Geoff Hurst, 64, was brought on in stoppage time to add a touch of old school magic to the team. And of mythical player Roy of the Rovers, fresh from another triumphant season at Melchester, who sneaked in to score the crucial goal just as the whistle blew for full time.
We may not have beaten Germany since, indeed we haven't even qualified for the World Cup since, but that's what comes of breeding a nation of obese lardbucket teenagers. Back in those golden days of 2006 we were the best team in the world, honest we were, forever dazzling the opposition with set pieces of gobsmacking brilliance and performing with skill and courage at every opportunity. And that's why the survivors of 40 years ago are gathering at Wembley today, to look back at that one rare moment of accidental sporting perfection. We're nothing special any more, just the upstart nation who invented football but can no longer get its act together to play the game convincingly. We have no God-given right to win every tournament we ever enter - that's just propaganda pumped into us by a money-grabbing media eager to sell us newspapers and mobile downloads. To be honest it's very unlikely we'll ever win anything of any importance ever again. But we can dream. And we can remember.