Twenty years ago, something remarkable happened: The senior England men's football team won a tournament. OK, so it was technically a friendly competition. And yes, there were only three other teams involved. But when the years of hurt are piling up, a nation has to take what it can get.
The 1997 Tournoi de France was nothing to do with the Confederations' Cup. That competition was held the same year in Saudi Arabia, but hadn't yet morphed into the World Cup warm up that we know and vaguely tolerate today. So France had to organise their own dry run for 1998, and to do so they invited England, Italy, and reigning world champions Brazil to join them. And England, though in pretty good company, were also in pretty good shape.
Euro ’96 had ended with the host nation losing on penalties to Germany in the semifinals, which in itself might not sound particularly inspiring. Or surprising. But the performances leading up to that penalty shootout had been promising, and the tournament atmosphere had been genuinely intoxicating. More generally, the country was feeling good: There were lots of exciting guitar bands knocking around, and a new Prime Minister who wore jeans and talked without verbs. People were saying things like "Cool Britannia" without any irony whatsoever. It was an unusually sunny time.
The man who'd overseen England's run to the semifinals, Terry Venables, had left the job at the end of the tournament. He would have done so regardless of the performances; the FA didn't like his business dealings. But his replacement, Glenn Hoddle, had inherited a strong squad and made a decent start. Le Tournoi arrived halfway through qualification for France ’98, and England's campaign had been going almost perfectly. They'd won five out of six, beating Moldova in Chișinău, and Poland and Georgia home and away.
The only misstep? A home loss to Italy. And that had two consequences.
The first was that England, in order to secure automatic qualification, would likely have to go to Rome and get a result in the last game of the campaign. The second was that England's opening match of Le Tournoi, against the Italians in Nantes, became a little more intriguing than just another friendly.
International squads are always slightly improvisational things, determined as much by whoever's fit and in form as by any grand plan. They're hyper-specific to their moment, and as such there is a very specific pleasure that comes when looking down the lists. A potent mixture of nostalgia, regret, curiosity, and straight-up bafflement: ah, they were so young … and they were so promising … and oh, I thought they were going to be incredible ... and, er, who the hell were they?
There's almost certainly a German word for it, and whatever it is, Le Tournoi's squads are drenched in it. So, casting an eye down Italy's list, we see a 22-year-old Alessandro del Piero, who would win 91 caps for his country, alongside journeyman sweeper Stefano Torrisi, who'd pick up just the one.
Fifteen of France's squad would go on to win the World Cup a year later; Pierre Laigle, Patrice Loko, and Nicolas Ouédec were among those that attended the warm up but missed the main event. And in Brazil's squad, Ronaldo, Romario, and Roberto Carlos jostled for places with lesser-known players such as Célio Silva, the Cannon of the Brasileirão, so-called because he could kick a football very hard indeed.
As for England, there were a couple of curve balls — notably John Scales and Lee Clark, the latter of whom never won a full cap — but for the most part, it's a familiar list. Stuart Pearce, Paul Gascoigne, and Ian Wright were nearing the end of their international careers, Alan Shearer and Teddy Sheringham more or less in their pomp, and the vanguard of the “golden generation” were beginning to establish themselves. The Neville brothers had been kept on from the Euro ’96 squad, along with Tottenham's promising central defender Sol Campbell, David Beckham had made his debut against Moldova, and Hoddle had brought an as-yet capless Paul Scholes to France.
It seems fair to suggest that had social media been around during Le Tournoi, England's lineup for their opening game would have led to an explosion of shareable content along the lines of "The England team is out … and Twitter is confused!" There was no Shearer, Ian Wright was on his own up front, and Hoddle picked three left-backs, none of them at left-back. Phil Neville and Graeme Le Saux took up wing-back roles, and Stuart Pearce made up part of a of back three. The Guardian called it "highly experimental."
It was, in the end, highly successful. Hoddle had given Scholes his debut as one of two inside-forwards, just behind Wright, and was repaid with an international debut of astounding assurance. After 25 minutes, he clipped a long pass over the Italian defence: the flight drew Angelo Peruzzi from his goal, the dip sent him scrambling back, and the spin took the ball perfectly onto Wright's left foot. He spanked it home, and 20 minutes later returned the favour, crossing for an unmarked Scholes to hammer the ball into the middle of the net.
England looked good. England looked slick. England, importantly, looked clever, in the stereotypically un-English way that Hoddle, ever the aesthete, was trying to impose on his team. And the goals were even a little spectacular, though they were overshadowed by Roberto Carlos' effort from the preceding day:
That free-kick had come in a 1-1 draw, which meant that England could secure the tournament with a win over France and a draw in the other game. Hoddle changed his team up. Shearer returned to partner Wright up front, Campbell came into the team, and Scholes was rewarded for his brilliance with a place on the bench. Managers failing to find space for him in midfield would become something of a theme; here, Gascoigne came in to replace him.
We can be fairly sure that Hoddle didn't make that switch with an eye on defensive qualities, yet after the game both Gazza and Beckham were praised for their contributions in stifling the French. Sol Campbell's assured performance was also mentioned in reports. And while the hosts had enough chances to seal the game, goal machine Stephane Guivarc'h hadn't made the squad and Christophe Dugarry was having an off day. England, by contrast, had Shearer, and with five minutes left he arrived in the box at just the right moment to profit from a Fabien Barthez Moment.
A 3-3 draw between Italy and Brazil gave England the trophy, and just as well, since Hoddle's men went on to lose their last game 1-0. So ultimately, England left France with a glass trophy, a good feeling, and a healthy dose of realism, which is probably the best way of arranging things. Certainly, the immediate impact was positive. In October they went to Rome needing a point in their final qualifier, and a Paul Ince-led side secured automatic qualification with one of England's most impressive 0-0 draws, a festival of Hoddle-esque ball retention and control.
As such, it was with some optimism — and a young, terrifying Michael Owen — that England went back to France in 1998. But they stumbled in the group stage, finishing second behind Romania, and that set up a knockout game against Argentina. Despite Owen's best efforts, that went to penalties, and England went out. And Hoddle was gone before the next major tournament, undone both by his queasy opinions on reincarnation and karmic retribution, and his inability to realise that perhaps those opinions might be best kept locked inside his face.
Still, if hindsight casts Le Tournoi as a false dawn, it still has its place in English football history. This is a country whose football team is regularly thrust high on waves of hype and nationalist tubthumping, then brought crashing down in a violent mess of disappointment and recrimination. But for a couple of years, around 1997, this was replaced by something rarer, healthier, and infinitely more precious: genuine positivity. Something to be savoured, for England fans, even if it never went anywhere.