Shite is the new good

'What do you mean no more nutmegs?'

Tactical trends borne of tournaments are nothing new and it’s fitting that one has yet again emerged from the denizens of France 2016. And make no mistake, it’s our absolute favourite.

Football rentre à la maison

Fabien Barthez, Laurent Blanc and Zinedine Zidane
pose for the cameras in 1998

If England 96 was when football came home, France 98 was when it got a radical new haircut, swaggered into the living room having not been seen for a couple of months, nailed the cat to the TV, threw all the family photos out of a top-floor window and then left straight through the wall, joyfully, ferociously, shrugging as it went. Or so your faulty memory would have you believe. Or would it?

Why A European Side Is Going To Win It This Year Or We'll Delete This Post

"Awww shit. Magic Spongers got it right again."

A lot is made about how European teams cannot win a World Cup on Latin American soil. Probably because they never have. So far, so fair enough. But as we’ve never let the problematic presence of ‘facts’ get in the way of our writing, we’re going to stick our necks out and say that this is the year it all changes and a European side will do just that. And this is a win-win situation for us because, if a European side does win it, we’ll just delete this very sentence, say "we told you so" and we’ll be the toast of the internet. And if a European side doesn’t win it, we just delete this entire piece. Or we keep it in and we look ‘meta’. There are plenty of ways to skin an onion.

Mexican Waves Floor France

Raymond Domenech reflects on France's defeat

Clearly, Mexico were the more delighted team when the referee’s full-time whistle went at the Peter Mokaba Stadium in Polokwane last night, but deep down, most of the French side were probably just as glad that the ordeal is nearly over.

Defeat for France puts them on the brink of World Cup expulsion without the power to do anything about it. If they do somehow qualify, it will be on goal difference and scarcely deserved. The final Group A fixture against South Africa will be one for those with the stomach for a fight. On their performances in the tournament so far, the only fights the French are interested in are those within the ranks. They were as limp as a limpet shopping for Viagra on Dale Winton’s wrist.

The paucity of heart is surprising, regardless of national stereotype. One story from Argentina, on the brink of missing out on the tournament altogether, tells how Javier Zanetti rallied the troops on the field before kick off in their final qualifier, superseding a manager who – at the time – was inspiring anything but confidence. No one in the French side appeared willing to stand up in such a manner, in words or deeds. Perhaps the Domenech farce has just been rumbling on for too long – what once were French apples are looking increasingly like total onions.

The French clearly have the players to inspire though. Ribery, Malouda, Diaby, Toulalan, Clichy, Sagna, Lloris, Gallas. All play at a level above most of their World Cup Group A peers, especially the scorer of Mexico’s second, Blanco, who now plies his trade in Mexico’s second division. Most of the French are of Premier or Champions’ League pedigree.

They have always been a team that needs leading from the front. France were utterly crap in 2006 – a goalless draw with the Swiss was followed by a 1-1 draw with South Korea and Les Blues only progressed thanks to a 2-0 win over Togo in their final group game. From there, Zinedine Zidane ignited the side and single-handedly dragged them to the final. It seems natural, then to look at France’s forward line. Nicolas Anelka stands out. For being completely anonymous.

But what has become of Anelka? He is the world's second most expensive player in cumulative transfers. He has played at Arsenal and Real Madrid. He should be a focal point. When France got the ball, Ribery, Malouda and Diaby in particular, they needed a target – a centre forward. Anelka’s best position, most would say. A striker who for years has burned brightly – though sporadically – failed to deliver for his country when they needed him most. He was hauled off at half time, though his replacement was so equally unremarkable I’ve had to look up who it was (Andre-Pierre Gignac, if you didn’t notice either). All this as Thierry Henry sat on the bench, smug as a bug in a rug.

Despite sharing the limelight with Didier Drogba at Chelsea, Anelka’s goal record at Stamford Bridge isn’t bad. He scored 15 in all competitions this season and 25, securing the Premier League golden boot into the bargain, in 2008-09. Anelka’s reputation is still that of a striker who knows how to finish. However, no shots on target in 384 consecutive minutes for the French side before kick-off tell a totally different story. At least the English can be reassured that it doesn’t just happen to Emile Heskey.

It’s unfair to lump all the blame on Anelka, of course. Almost all the French were equally poor after half time and having conceded one, the likelihood was they would concede again, rather than troubling the Mexican defence. Evra barely moved as Barrero went past him and Abidal’s attempt to win the ball was as vague and non-committal as the entire French performance. The era of Laurent Blanc cannot come soon enough. Rob MacDonald