Algeria 6 England 1

If we were England's best chance of a trophy, then God, and a decent goalkeeper, help us in the real thing. One-nil down after thirty seconds following a debatable call from the linesman, we got really worried three minutes later when some slack defending cost us a second. "How long does this game last again?" someone muttered as I fished the ball back out of the net.

And then something near miraculous happened. Despite having another four hundred shots on target, Algeria didn't score. We bundled one in, hit the post, hit the bar. Belief began to course through our veins. With the last kick of the half midfield dynamo Leo intercepted a punt to the edge of our area with an unstoppable drive...into the corner of his own net.

In the second half we had the age old English problem of trying to play a pressing game in thirty degree heat - and the age old five-a-side problem of no-one being arsed to defend. The Algerians' superior skill began to count: one of their players had recently passed a trial with Chornomorets Odessa only to fail his medical while another was impossible to knock off the ball on account of his body being approximately 97% sweat. 4-1, 5-1, 6-1. We missed a penalty, hit the bar again. Then Some people the caretaker was on the pitch, rudely telling us our time was up.