[Tealeaf]

Congratulations, then to Cashy, Harwood Red and Spuggie, for accurately predicting England’s inglorious exit from the World Cup at only the second hurdle. This was not a particularly difficult forecast - we were lucky to get beyond the group stage - and as such I hope you made a small investment at the bookmakers in order to get some free money in return.

As for the rest of you – may I respectfully suggest that you all arrange a visit to your GP as soon as possible. You are all suffering from delusions of the world about you and varying doses of medication are obviously necessary. In the extreme cases - those who somehow believed that England would win the cup – then sectioning in a madhouse and a long course of straitjacket treatment is probably the only remedy.

Meanwhile, our team – that pathetic band of brothers - shall now return from Africa in the knowledge that their expedition has resulted in the biggest national embarrassment on the part of Englishmen there since the Battle of Isandlwana in 1879. The German game has been England’s worse result since our participation began in the World Cup. If our so-called palyers have any sense of honour, they will alter their uniform of M&S grey suits to yellow suits and replace the Three Lions with three little pussy cats.

No doubt there will be a phalanx of police guards to meet them at Heathrow Aerodrome. I can only hope that amongst those policemen will be members of the City of London’s serious fraud squad ready to arrest the entire team for the crime of obtaining money by false pretence (and possibly high treason). As for the Italian, he should not be allowed to pass immigration but instead should be relieved of his passport in order for the stamp ‘Persona Non Grata’ to be clearly marked within. He should then be placed on the next available flight to Bologna or wherever, never to return to these sacred shores.

Whatever else happens, let us just make sure that these scoundrels are never again let loose in England colours. They successively failed to beat a motley collection of ex-colonial Sunday afternoon-in-the-park footballers, camel herdsmen and then just managed a win against a country hardly larger in size and population than that of the Borough of Hyndburn and which did not even exist some fifteen years ago (and which I am unable to locate on any map).

Once again, it’s back to the drawing board. I have only one firm prediction and it is this – the Englishmen who will one day lift the World Cup are not yet born.