The Nations League drags on, a good idea cheapened by circumstances as weary fans and weary journalists try to summon the will to care about weary players playing out what numerous managers have said they’re treating as World Cup preparation, wearily. Who can summon the energy to care about who might be England’s third-choice right-back? Who can be bothered to watch another VAR replay of two feet coming together? If a player wonders whether yet another forward surge to block a passing lane is worth it, who can blame him?
It’s getting so bad that even adding up the combined age of Belgium’s centre-backs is beginning to lose its lustre. It’s not just that the compression of the calendar because of Covid, the November World Cup and greed has left everybody fatigued. It’s that the Nations League is eating into the most wonderful time of the year: the transfer window.
