BLOW me, if it wasn't all a bad dream.

England were not humiliated in Euro 2000, we were not shown up to be a footballing nation of Third World resources.

For if it had been anything but a gruesome nightmare, Kevin Keegan would surely have taken some steps towards reversing our disastrously declining fortunes.

Instead, Keegan has chosen to stick with the lads who did us proud in Charleroi.

And let's hope he doesn't sacrifice any of his footballing principles by copying the Johnny Foreigners, who would seemingly prefer to pass the ball about between members of their own side rather than scatter it around like baboons dispersing their droppings.

However, amazingly, there is a school of thought which stubbornly insists that the Euro 2000 experience was a national humiliation and that Keegan has the technical knowledge of a primate.

Can these people not see the genius of the man?

In picking the jumped-up and temperamentally suspect Alan Smith as a replacement for the injured strikers, he is ensuring that we need never change our tried and tested formula of long ball excellence.

Heaven forbid, he could have ignored Smith's undoubted potential as a true target man and selected his club colleague Michael Bridges, who would much prefer to keep possession and create something from nothing, rather than optimistically connect with a hopeful David Seaman punt.

The doubters, though, cannot fail to be convinced by the courage of Kev's convictions.

"Smith plays in a team where he just causes problems," says Kev. He should surely be the first name on the sheet in that case.

"I watched him on Saturday and you wouldn't say his performance was outstanding," says Kev. Now we're getting a little warmer.

"On Saturday he got a goal out of nothing," says Kev. Quite true. I was at the same game and Smith was trying to get out of the way of an Olivier Dacourt shot, when it deflected in off his heel. Real England pedigree, if ever I saw it.

Equally worrying, for the doubters, is the fact that Keegan is lining up Chris Sutton as extra cover.

Sutton may well be the finest player of his type, but there are those who had hoped that we might take a few tentative steps towards progress.

But at least there is a chance that Andy -- sorry, Andrew -- Cole might yet be fit to help put the Frenchies in their rightful place.

In all seriousness, he actually plays the type of game which might just test a tactically superior outfit.

And, as an added bonus, the inclusion of Andy -- sorry, Andrew -- Cole will not isolate David -- sorry, Ponytailed Plonker -- Seaman as the only pretentious pillock in the side.