I'll never ever forget that France game. It ripped the heart out of everyone at the time. I've never heard a pub full of people so silent.
You should have been at the game, it was a sickener, worse than the Portugal game which as mentioned, went to penalties. The whole day had been brilliant, the scale of the English support not seen here since the Spanish invaded in 1762. The noise was something else and England for once looked like they had real purpose. For once, I really thought England would beat the French but they really did throw it away.
The next game against Switzerland in Coimbra was on a scorching day, temperatures over 100ºF and the only time I've ever seen English fans, pre-match, hiding in the shade and drinking water. After the game there were plenty that threw themselves in the river to cool off. Even though England won 3-0 they still looked like they hadn't got over the defeat from the French. Still, there was a young lad called Rooney that was starting to make a name for himself.
Back to Lisbon and Croatia. Brilliant day and even though England went behind you could see there was so much power and belief that you never doubted for a minute that they wouldn't pull it back and boy did they put on a show. I'd say it was probably the best English performance in the last decade, even better than the 1-5 win in Germany. Total football and 4-1 winners.
The quater final against Portugal in Lisbon is right up there as one of the greatest games I've ever seen. 65,000 in the Stadium of Light and at least half of them were English. There was no segregation but everybody behaved and thrived on the most electric atmosphere I've ever witnessed. So emotionally draining that midway through the second period of extra time, I didn't care who won, I just wanted it to end. It was that intense. Having the last minute winner disallowed because John Terry was a twat ( nothing new there) did nothing for the nerves but poor old Darius Vassell, on for the injured Rooney, stepped forward to take his penalty and I just knew he wouldn't score.
At least now, all these years later, I know who to blame. Gary. Fucking. Neville. The rat faced twat.