Before this game Thomas Tuchel had said he would base his starting XI on what he saw on the training ground. Halfway through an evening at Wembley Stadium that felt like being stabbed very slowly through the eyes with a butter knife made entirely from death, ear wax and empty corporate leisure product, it was tempting to wonder about this.
What exactly had the players left out done in training to be deemed ineligible for this England team? Turn up naked? Vomit into a traffic cone? Attempt to stage a game of Cluedo during set-piece practice? Perhaps Adam Wharton had killed a crow and stapled its innards to the dressing‑room door.
