Lee Carsley told he will NOT get the England job as Three Lions target Pep Guardiola to replace Gareth Southgate

IT IS easy to forget, after eight serene years of Gareth Southgate, that the default mode for the England football team, and the FA, is one of utter chaos.

After last week’s bewildering, headless-chicken home defeat by Greece and the endless, dizzying ramblings from Lee Carsley about whether or not he wants to be Southgate’s full-time successor, it seems like deja vu all over again.

Because this was what following England used to feel like.
Before Southgate took over — and the Three Lions became supremely competent and professional on and off the field — it really always was stark, raving bonkers.

Under Southgate it could be a little boring, a little too cautious, at times. But England rarely lost football matches, always featured at the sharp end of tournaments and were always a serious, rational set-up.

It was never the long-running, hopes-up, trousers-down, clown show we endured for decades until one decent, intelligent man in a waistcoat arrived and decided enough was enough.

Southgate banked tens of millions as England boss and we can safely assume that he hasn’t custard-gunned it all on drink, drugs and loose women.

He confirmed he wants a sabbatical of at least a year before he returns to coaching.

And, therefore, he wouldn’t touch the Manchester United job with a bargepole, despite having significant allies on the Old Trafford board.

Southgate is enjoying life away from the madhouse.

He’s been seeing the family, walking the dogs, watching the cricket and plans to give a talk at Harvard University.

Those sort of Gareth things. And good for him.

Some of us knew England would miss Southgate dearly but perhaps we didn’t realise quite how soon, and quite how deeply, we would regret his exit.

The FA relied on him to a greater extent than they ever realised.

As a statesman, a figurehead, a beacon of good sense and decency, as well as a very useful football manager, who was extremely popular with his players.

And whatever happens next — whether more interim Carsley, or Graham Potter, or perhaps the colourful loose-cannon Thomas Tuchel arrives from Germany — history tells us that we will probably go back to bedlam.

Pep Guardiola? Now that might be a different, if unlikely, prospect.
Because the England manager’s role wasn’t called ‘the impossible job’ without good reason.

Remember Sam Allardyce resigning after one match, having been caught out acting exactly like Sam Allardyce, boasting over a pint of wine during a covert sting?

Remember the Iceland debacle and, before that, the disastrous Brazil World Cup campaign under Roy Hodgson — which had been pretty much predicted by FA chief executive Greg Dyke performing a throat-slitting gesture when the draw was made?

Remember the John Terry fiascos under Fabio Capello — when the Chelsea man was stripped of the captaincy for having allegedly diddled the former girlfriend of the reserve left-back, only to be reinstated as captain.

And then to be accused of racially abusing the brother of his central defensive partner and for Capello to resign rather than sack Terry as captain again?

That was Capello, who claimed he only needed to know 100 words of English and who agreed to take extra money for rating his own players out of 100 in something on the internet called ‘the Capello Index’ at the 2010 World Cup.

Yes, kids, all this actually happened.

And before that, Steve McClaren, under an umbrella, failing to qualify for the 2008 Euros.

And before him, the late Sven-Goran Eriksson and the peak era of low farce — the fake Sheikh, the Beckham circus, the WAGs table-dancing in Baden-Baden, the Faria Alam scandal which ended with FA chief executive Mark Palios resigning after he and Eriksson had both diddled the same secretary.

And that was after Kevin Keegan quit in the Wembley toilets, after Glenn Hoddle had resigned for making bizarre comments about disabled people and reincarnation, having employed faith healer Eileen Drewery to lay hands on his players.

And dentist chairs and turnips and gambling cultures and missed drug tests and threatened players’ strikes and so on and so, so farcical.

Thirty years of hurt have turned into 60 years because Southgate — despite reaching successive Euros finals and overseeing two very decent World Cup campaigns — couldn’t quite get his hands on a trophy.

And now the impossible job feels impossible again.

Because this is a nation obsessed with the game.

Because this is a nation which — I think we’re still allowed to say — was the birthplace of organised, competitive football.

Because this is a nation which is home to the richest and most popular league on the face of the Earth.

And because this is a nation which still craves the ultimate glory of a first major international title since 1966.

As Southgate (left) has frequently reminded us, the England manager’s job brings a uniquely sharp focus.

There are 60 million armchair bosses and, when it’s an international break or a summer tournament, England is the only show in town.

Expectations, which had dipped after all those years of nut-casery, are now limitless because Southgate came so close, so often.

All of this is surely too big for Carsley. It feels too big for Potter, too.

And for Tuchel, or most unsuspecting overseas candidates, all of this lunatic history feels too big to comprehend.

So if Guardiola really wants a serious new challenge.

And if he is really prepared to take a major pay cut, then he is one of the few men truly capable of being up to the job.

If not, it will just be back to bedlam again.

If not, we might be missing Southgate for a long time to come.