Cut back to this weekend and that trial appointment has already achieved one significant thing, specifically lending a mild air of jeopardy and intrigue to an otherwise unwanted back-to-school September international break. Who knew it was possible, before a minute has been played, to develop strong feelings about Lee Carsley and his claims on a permanent position as England manager?
Carsley, not so much. In a hugely refreshing break from recent traditions England's temporary manager doesn't seem to actually have a philosophy or a vision. He doesn't have a captivating personal redemption arc.
Even Gareth Southgate did this early on with that air of dishing up hard, vinegary truths, the long interludes of saying stuff sadly behind a desk. Carsley, not so much.
It seems safe to predict nobody is ever going to write a successful West End play about Lee Carsley's nuanced reimagining of the basic concept of Englishness. It isn't necessary to care about what he wears.
So far it's good. The noises, the outline, the contour, and the instincts suggest Carsley could provide the ample space for England's footballing ambitions.
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