England's relationship with the World Cup is best understood as a 60-year argument the country is having with itself. They won it in 1966, at home, in a final still disputed by anyone with a German passport. Since then: nothing. A semifinal in 1990. Quarterfinals. Round-of-16 exits on penalties, three of them, all to teams England were better than.
Then 2024 happened. England reached the Euros final, played the worst tournament football imaginable for six matches, and somehow found themselves 90 minutes from glory. Mikel Oyarzabal scored late. Spain won. Gareth Southgate, who had gotten England closer than anyone since Bobby Robson, walked away. Enter Thomas Tuchel — the German manager who won the Champions League with Chelsea and somehow accepted the most pressure-laden job in English sport.
So far, mixed. Tuchel inherited Bellingham, Kane, Saka, Foden, Rice, Pickford — talent depth no other manager has ever had — and the March friendlies were a 1-1 draw with Uruguay and a 1-0 loss to Japan when Kane pulled out. The system depends on Kane. The team depends on Bellingham. The country depends on belief, which it has in dangerously unlimited supply. It's coming home, allegedly, again.
Born in Stourbridge, signed for Borussia Dortmund at 17, won the Champions League with Real Madrid at 20. He's now the gravitational center of this England team — Tuchel benched him briefly, England promptly stopped scoring, and Bellingham was back in the leadership group within a month. The whole tactical structure runs through what he sees in the final third. He's 22 and already on his second World Cup.
England's all-time leading scorer, the captain, the man who missed the penalty against France in 2022 and the penalty against Spain in the Euro 2024 final. Now at Bayern Munich and finally winning trophies, he's also 32 and visibly carrying the weight of being the only true No. 9 the team trusts. He pulled out of the March friendly against Japan with a knock — England were toothless without him. Verify everything about his fitness before you bet anything.
From Ealing in west London, a one-club player at Arsenal since age 7. Missed the decisive penalty in the Euro 2020 final at age 19, took the racist abuse that followed with more grace than any teenager should have to, then quietly became one of the best wide attackers in Europe. Plays with the kind of relaxed two-footed balance that makes defenders look heavy. The country's collective protective instinct toward him is real.
A proper Sunday roast — beef or lamb, Yorkshire pudding the size of your face, roast potatoes crisped in beef dripping, peas, gravy that takes a stock pot two days to make. The other answer is fish and chips, eaten outside, in the wind, ideally with a wooden fork. Add curry sauce if you're north of Birmingham, mushy peas if you have any sense.
The Londoner has three locations (Addison, Colleyville, downtown Dallas) and is the actual answer most British expats give. Hand-cut chips, cask ales, full English on weekends, and they will turn on whatever match you ask them to. Queens Head Pub is also opening in Deep Ellum in May — built specifically for the World Cup, with shepherd's pie and Scotch eggs on the menu — and might be the move if you want a brand-new room with no expat regulars guarding their stools.
A soundtrack for the matches, the pregame, and the afterparty.
English support is unique because it carries 60 years of unbroken disappointment as if it were a credential. Expect "Three Lions" — "It's coming home" — sung at every chance, with full understanding that it usually isn't. Expect "God Save the King" sung loud, then the moment the whistle blows, expect 80,000 people to start booing the opposing keeper's goal kicks for sport. There's also a real edge: England fans can be fantastic and they can be a problem, often in the same five minutes. Sit near the family sections if you're new to this. The chants are funnier and the beer is colder.
England has won exactly one World Cup — at home in 1966 — and reached exactly one final since (Italia '90 doesn't count, that was a semi). The country has spent 60 years writing songs about it. 'Three Lions' from 1996 is still the most-played football song in human history.