In my twenties, I went through a phase where each boyfriend was a stark contrast to the one before. A fun-loving extrovert would be followed by a quiet, puzzle-obsessed loner, or a guy who effortlessly planned group trips replaced by one who could barely manage his own schedule.
The FA seems to follow a similar approach with their recruitment strategies. After eight years with Gareth Southgate, it’s understandable that his successor would be a reaction to what came before.
Thomas Tuchel, a Champions League-winning manager, tactically bested Pep Guardiola on the grandest stage. He has a reputation for clashing with higher-ups and, as this week’s headlines have pointed out, he’s also German.
While I was surprised to find some of the commentary since Wednesday wasn’t satire, a few important points have surfaced. One is the limited pool of qualified English candidates for the top job.
Among those at the peak of their careers, only Emma Hayes consistently wins both tournament and league titles. But, as some have sarcastically noted, Hayes is disqualified from the 2024 shortlist because she’s “something even worse than a German”—a woman.
The lack of a clear English football identity complicates the FA’s task of selecting a coach. In countries like Spain, there’s a well-established playing style that their teams—both male and female—embody. But England lacks this coherence, which makes choosing a new direction more challenging and explains the varied names on the shortlist for the next England men’s manager.
Anthony Barry’s prominent inclusion in Tuchel’s unveiling was meant to assure fans that this wasn’t a destabilising “operation run from the Reichstag.” But the presence of an English assistant, no matter how talented, doesn’t necessarily guarantee a continuity of an English footballing identity.
What stands out is how deeply the “German” issue still resonates in England. For many, the Second World War remains a formative part of our national consciousness. It’s a period taught extensively in schools, and winning that conflict has long propped up England’s self-image, even as modern evidence of our global influence suggests otherwise.
Tuchel represents the polar opposite of Southgate, who fostered a sense of identity and unity within the England team. Southgate tapped into the country’s folklore, history, and the complex relationship between our national psyche and our players. Tuchel is an eloquent speaker, but can he connect to an English identity in the same way?
Perhaps he won’t need to. This appointment is, after all, a reaction to Southgate’s era. If Tuchel delivers silverware, no one will be complaining. But as a German who comes from a country that has faced its historical demons head-on, he might inadvertently lead us into conversations that England still struggles with—our obsession with the past and how it shapes our present.
In the meantime, as English football searches for a consistent style, we need stability. But with the FA—and even the Rugby Football Union—sticking to this cycle of reactive recruitment, maybe the English way is to ring in the changes regularly. I outgrew that mindset in my thirties; perhaps it’s time for England to do the same.
