The English Toni Kroos does not exist. Nor does the English Andrea Pirlo, the English Luka Modric, the English Rodri. Instinctively, everybody knows this. England doesn’t have earthquakes, England doesn’t grow citrus fruit and England doesn’t produce technical central midfielders who can control a game and dictate the tempo of play. That’s just the way it is.
So on a clear and bracing Helsinki night, into this paradox steps Angel Gomes. Paradoxical because in many ways the player Gomes is trying to be, the role he is being fitted for, is something that doesn’t actually exist. Naturally, because football fans are impatient and adore the dopamine rush of making instant sweeping judgments, the impulse is to measure him against this stratospheric, borderline impossible standard. He’s either the English Pirlo. Or he isn’t. Good luck.
