It is 10pm on a hot July night in London and Harry Kane has just scored the winning goal in an enthralling Fifa Men’s World Cup final showdown with old rival Argentina. Finally, finally, a few days before the anniversary of the fabled victory of Bobby Moore and his men in red at Wembley in 1966, the 60 years of hurt are over. London goes mad. The country goes mad. The party lasts for weeks and the feel-good factor carries the economy through the summer and beyond.
The naïve ravings of a Three Lions fan who has waited all his sentient years for the second World Cup trophy? Probably. But whatever the future holds for Thomas Tuchel’s team, London’s punch-drunk hospitality sector is already looking forward to the footie festival kicking off in June, with all the anticipation of John Mills dreaming about that first beer in the old war movie Ice Cold in Alex.
