Raise a glass to our Fab's boys!

I rolled up in my usually quiet local to find it heaving with England supporters in their red and white shirts. It was standing room only and the atmosphere was electric.
The mood was tense in the opening 20 minutes as recent uninspiring performances left supporters apprehensive, but the heavy mood soon began to lift as England shocked us all - they began to play!
Even when David 'Calamity' James fumbled a low shot and dropped a cross, the crowd groaned but did not lose their belief that this England side could actually end Croatia's long-standing unbeaten home record and take a giant step towards qualification for the South Africa 2010.
Then, minutes later, the ball dropped to Theo Walcott and, almost unbelievably, his low shot sneaked inside the far post. The place erupted.
The half time whistle blew to a loud cheer and the barmaids, who were already being rushed off their feet by the unexpected crowd, were inundated as gleeful England fans sought to wet their own whistle.
Whether it was the gradual affects of the cool lager but the second half became almost a bewildering blur, like some footballing dream, as the hosts are reduced to ten men following a dreadful assault on Joe Cole which left him spilling more claret than Manuel in Fawlty Towers.
Then the goals started to rain in. First Walcott added to his first half strike with an almost carbon copy of a finish, then Jermaine Jenas enters the fray and rams my taunt that he is never England class down my throat with the Carling with a sublime piece of skill to set up Wayne Rooney for the third.
Frank Lampard has been derided by his own fans so many times but he was having a fine game and there were no cat calls in the Red Lion. Super Frank should have added a fourth but it was ruled out for - well, I don't know what for.
Even when the Croats pulled a goal back, Fabio Capello's side never flinched and neither did the patrons in the bar. Walcott raced onto Rooney's exquisite pass to score his hat-trick and complete a memorable rout. This was football heaven.
Even when the final whistle went, the bar did not clear. Instead, fans stayed to toast the victory and dissect the game. Now this is what I call post match analysis.
"That Lampard, I never doubted him," one said between swigs. "But that James, f#####g rubbish." Eat your heart out Andy Gray!
If the game had been on the BBC or Sky, I would have been home on my sofa and it simply wouldn't have been the same. I love my wife but somehow the football banter wouldn't have been the same, her jokes aren't as crude or funny and the beer wouldn't have tasted the same (although it would have been cheaper).
Yes, I wouldn't have had to squeeze past a load of blokes to whom pie and chips is a staple to get to the bar and then stand in the puddles of pee that swamp the floor of the toilets, but I loved it.
It was also like a school reunion for me as I bumped into people I hadn't seen in years. It was like Facebook or Friends Reunited but for real. I wasn't sat alone at a computer screen, I was seeing their faces and hearing their voices. Friends Reunited by football.
Local pubs used to be the centre pieces of communities. They were places where neighbours actually got to know each other and talk. Now, because of the credit crunch the rising cost of beer in pubs, they are empty, soulless places. But not on Wednesday. An old tired building that has stood in my neighbourhood came to life again, much like England's World Cup hopes.
I hope Setanta get the rights to all of England's games from now on because watching Fab's boys just wouldn't be the same in my house.