Thirty Years On
Euro 96 and its Three Lions
In the summer of 1996 the UEFA European Football Championship came to England. My wife and I, recently graduated, were renting a small, unprepossessing flat in north London. On match Saturdays that summer we’d take the bus down to Brent Cross to get shopping, from where we could just see the white Wembley towers to the west with the TV blimp above (no Wembley arch or camera drones in those days), and then go home to watch the England matches on television. In the sepia haze of sunny nostalgia that happened endlessly that summer, though in fact England only played on three Saturday in Euro 96.
It was thirty years since England’s footballers had won their only trophy: the 1966 World Cup triumph was (and is) like ancient history to me, nearly a decade before I was born, a world played in black and white with leather balls and bad teeth. So I cannot quite believe that 1996 is itself now thirty years ago. Either this thirty years is shorter than the previous one, or I’m getting old, because I can remember the summer of 1996 and how it felt quite distinctly. I am sure that in 1996 I would have considered anyone able to reminisce about 1966 to be much older than I feel now.
That summer is cemented in my memory as much as anything by its soundtrack: Three Lions was the official song of the England football team, released about three weeks before the tournament kicked off. It famously refers to those thirty years:
Three Lions on a shirt Jules Rimet still gleaming Thirty years of hurt Never stopped me dreaming
It was, indeed, reasonable for England fans to feel hurt by the mediocrity of England’s football for much of those thirty years: since holding up the Jules Rimet trophy (the World Cup1), England had only qualified for four of the seven Euros, and had done terribly in all of them, coming third out of four teams in 1968 and sixth or seventh out of eight on the other three occasions (relatedly, before 1996 England had only ever won two Euros matches, and the previous one was in 1980). Similarly, England had only qualified for four out of seven World Cups since 1966, though at least the record there was better - they reached the quarter-finals in 1970 (as holders) and 1986, and the semi-finals in 1990 (Nessun Dorma and all that), when they were knocked out on penalties by a Germany team that went on to win the tournament (spoiler: that would not be the last time that would happen).
Since Italia 90 England had stumbled again, even though most of the grim horror and tragedy associated with 1980s English football off-the-field had been left behind - and even though the formation of the Premier League and the change to the backpass law had put domestic football on a wealthier, more skilful and more entertaining course.
Just two years after that semi-final in Turin, Euro 1992 in Sweden was a disaster for England - it involved hooligans in the streets and woeful performances on the pitch, with one goal and no wins in the three games played2. In 1994 England did not even qualify for the World Cup, which was in America, though England fans could instead support the Republic of Ireland, managed by 1966 hero Jack Charlton (they were knocked out by the Netherlands in the second round). That failure to quality for the 1994 World Cup, and then qualifying automatically as hosts for Euro 96, unhelpfully meant that by the summer of 1996 England had not played a competitive game for over 2½ years3.
The negativity of those years is reflected in the commentary excerpts that open Three Lions4 :
Alan Hansen: …I think it’s bad news for the English game… Trevor Brooking: …we’re not creative enough, and we’re not positive enough… Jimmy Hill: …we’ll go on getting bad results…
Nevertheless, squint hard and there was some room for cautious optimism in 1996: England had a new manager, the wily and astute Terry Venables, and what looked like a solid and potentially exciting team, including David Seaman in goal, captain Tony Adams, the mercurial and mischievous Paul Gascoigne in midfield, and the emerging talent of Steve McManaman. And in Alan Shearer, who had won the Premiership with Blackburn Rovers the previous year, and would shortly move to Newcastle United for a world record transfer fee (a now-very-ordinary-sounding £15 million), they had a striker who could perhaps fill the boots of the now-retired Gary Lineker5 - though, concerningly, Shearer hadn’t scored an international goal for nearly two years.
This is the mood that is captured so beautifully by Three Lions: Ian Broudie from the Lightning Seeds was asked by the Football Association to write a song for the tournament, and he chose David Baddiel and Frank Skinner, as archetypal England football fans (they were presenters of a BBC TV show, ‘Fantasy Football League’), to write and perform it with him.
The song is not blindly optimistic in the way of many long-forgotten England football songs from previous tournaments. I don’t think it’s chauvinistic or entitled either, but I can see why some fans and players of other countries have thought that it is6: strictly it is accurate that England is where the modern game was invented in the nineteenth century, and for many decades English football was guilty of an arrogant exceptionalism - England left FIFA for a while and did not even enter the World Cup until its fourth iteration in 1950, at which point the team, and the country, had a brutal reality check, famously suffering defeat to the USA and failing to progress beyond the group stage. A few years later there was another unexpected defeat, this time at Wembley against Hungary, a 6-3 scoreline that sent shockwaves through English football.
But by the 1990s I don’t think any England fan would have believed there was something special or superior about English football, just because the rules were codified here, to mean we deserved to host a tournament, let alone win a trophy (it is ambiguous, of course, what ‘football’s coming home’ actually means). The experience of the previous few decades should have been enough to disabuse everyone of that idea. Instead the song is, I think, an example of English humour, self-deprecation and even vulnerability - at the start it is weirdly downbeat for an official song (apparently the FA originally didn’t like it - until it started making them money - though Venables called it a ‘key-tapper’7 and Gascoigne was very taken by it, insisting on it being played on the team bus during the tournament). Baddiel himself once said, ‘It’s never meant to mean “we own football” - it means coming home in the sense of something you hope will finally happen after a long journey.’ Anyway, by embracing the song we have asked to be mocked by others when football doesn’t actually come home, and we have to gamely take that mockery on the chin.
Skinner and Baddiel seem to me to have been (and be) real fans who’ve suffered more than they’ve enjoyed following England down the years. Their hopes that their team might do well this time were tempered by all the previous occasions they dared believe and ended up disappointed (‘all those “oh so near”s wear you down through the years’). ‘We’re probably going to lose, but you never know’, as Baddiel wryly put it in a video interview with Alan Shearer. Most England fans will have related to those conflicted feelings. As the song puts it:
Everyone seems to know the score They’ve seen it all before They just know They’re so sure That England’s gonna throw it away Gonna blow it away
The advantage of pessimism, of course, is that you don’t mind being proved wrong. And it is particularly important for fans of a national team to prepare for disappointment: whereas followers of club football get to see their teams play most weeks, and typically compete in three or more competitions a season, national sides play far fewer games, and compete for a big prize no more than once every two years. So each missed penalty, fluffed chance and goalkeeping error becomes magnified in its impact. That familiar sickening feeling when a national team agonisingly fails again is partly because of the wrenching realisation that it will be at least a couple of years before they get another go, and that’s if they even qualify for the next tournament.
So there is a poignancy about the memories of those all-too-brief moments when things seemed to be going well for the team, knowing in retrospect that sooner or later we would be disappointed again8:
But I still see that tackle by Moore And when Lineker scored Bobby belting the ball And Nobby dancing
The song backs that up by playing some commentary clips from distant, brief times when England were genuinely world-beaters (‘England have done it!’), and Broudie sings, somewhat ruefully: ‘I know that was then, but it could be again…’
The video that accompanies the song begins in a flat9 with some entertainingly bad acting: Broudie makes tea while Skinner and Baddiel sit on a sofa enduring a mediocre game on the television (it all seems a bit polite for a group of 90s lads watching the footie); bur then the downbeat mood suddenly changes: a long-distance strike by Steve Stone shown on the TV10 lands in the net perfectly on the word ‘home’ (as in ‘Football’s coming…’), the sort of rare moment of joy that fans live for. It’s a reminder of how, at its occasional best, football can be matchlessly thrilling.
The story in the video after that doesn’t bear much analysis: it moves from the flat to a ramp down to a subway, then to a pub11, and there’s a weird dream sequence with current England players (we see Steve Stone, Robbie Fowler, David Platt, David Seaman and Teddy Sheringham12.) The video includes several self-consciously amateurish recreations of famous moments from England’s footballing past - goals, tackles and celebrations - including some played out with the current England players. Partly it is about the joy of a group of ordinary fans suddenly - inexplicably - meeting their heroes (including Skinner’s open-mouthed realisation that that bloke in the pub really is Geoff Hurst, who famously scored a hat-trick in the 1966 Final). Partly it is just entertainingly silly. If the words of the song can be interpreted the wrong way, the video seems to confirm that it shouldn’t be taken too seriously.
The song finishes on a note of optimism, as it was always going to: the chorus is sung repeatedly by the crowd in the pub, as the country gears up for another tournament.
It’s coming home It’s coming home It’s coming Football’s coming home
In the lead-up to Euro 96 there were media stories of the players having a drunken night out in a Hong Kong nightclub, with a picture of a worse-for-wear Gascoigne on the front page of The Sun, and reports of a ‘dentist’s chair’ where tequila was poured directly into drinkers’ mouths.
The tournament began on 8th June 1996 with the obligatory unconvincing opening performance by the hosts: Shearer’s first half goal was cancelled out by a late penalty for Switzerland. But a week later, England beat Scotland 2-0; England’s second was scored - just a minute after Seaman had saved a penalty from Gary McAllister - by Gascoigne, demonstrating a jaw-dropping level of skill to loop the ball over Colin Hendry and then volley it in the net; and his celebration - pretending to be in the dentist’s chair - is almost as famous as the goal. When the final whistle blew, Three Lions was played by the stadium DJ, a moment that Baddiel later described as ”one of the most extraordinary moments of my life”.
Three days later England secured another famous win, trouncing the Dutch 4-1 with two each from Shearer (one penalty) and Sheringham. The late Dutch consolation goal incidentally put the Netherlands through to the knockout stages at the expense of Scotland.
England’s quarter-final, a week after the Scotland game, was against Spain; the visitors were the better team but the match finished 0-0 after extra time and then England won on penalties13 - England scored all the four penalties they took; their scorers included Stuart Pearce, who had had a penalty saved against Germany in the semi-final six years earlier, and his celebration showed the relief he understandably felt. Spain missed one and Miguel Nadal (uncle of the tennis player Rafael) had a second saved.
Four days later it was the semi-final, which like in 1990 was against Germany. England, playing in a dull grey strip, were 1-0 up through Shearer after just three minutes, but Germany equalised a few minutes later. And the scores stayed level through the 90 minutes and right to the end of extra time, despite Gascoigne coming agonisingly close to scoring at one point. You know what happened next: the first ten penalties were all scored, then central defender Gareth Southgate stepped up but had his attempt saved (the eleventh penalty England had taken in the tournament, and the first unsuccessful one), and Andreas Möller scored to put Germany through to the Final. So England fans felt that horrible sickening feeling again: this had seemed like such a golden opportunity to get to a Final, with a team that was playing some good football, in a home tournament, so we really had dared to hope it might come home. But now it was all over, as we deep down feared would probably happen (‘…England’s going to throw it away…’), and we’d need to start qualifying and hoping all over again, and wait two years before having another opportunity.
In the Final, Germany beat the Czech Republic with a ‘golden goal’. Venables stepped down as England manager straight after the tournament.
England did go on to qualify for the World Cup in France in 1998 (the tournament where a young Michael Owen scythed through the Argentinian defence and David Beckham was sent off for that petulant kick at Diego Simeone). A revised version of Three Lions14 was produced, though it was not the official song15: the words were changed and the new video was full of images from Euro 96, starting with the Wembley crowd singing the song, and then the Southgate penalty miss. The three singers are now defiant, first seen standing moodily in the rain under an umbrella: ‘we still believe…’ Some of the better moments from 1996 were also shown (‘Shearer certain to score…’).
The revised song is quite ambiguous (and not as memorable or well-known as the 1996 version) - at least in part it is a rueful reflection on the song that would have been sung had England won two years earlier, and looking forward to the possibility that they might be celebrating a win this time (the refrain is a somewhat optimistic ‘no more years of hurt’, presumably because ‘thirty-two’ doesn’t scan). Geoff Hurst makes another cameo appearance, and noted football fan Robbie Williams is there too, among the dancing crowd. Again the song captures that sense of excitement, emotion, togetherness and community that is football fandom at its best, with poignancy and an element of silliness thrown in (at the end, Skinner makes a replica of the Jules Rimet trophy from what looks like a melon dipped in ?porridge). The lyrics include the line ‘Gazza good as before’, which is unfortunate as new manager Glenn Hoddle controversially did not select Gascoigne for the tournament, and he never played for England again. Similarly, Stuart Pearce is named in the sung (‘…Psycho screaming…’) but was not selected.
In the end, England went out of France ‘98 (on penalties, natch) to Argentina in the round of 16.
Since 1998, England has qualified for all six World Cups (plus this summer’s), reaching three quarter-finals and a semi-final (2018), as well as six of the seven Euros (all except 2008), getting to two quarter-finals (2004 and 2012) and two finals (2020, which was played in 2021, and 2024). That’s a decent record, and an improving one. The manager for the last four tournaments was, of course, Sir Gareth Southgate, now known for more than just that penalty miss. And there have been some great individual matches too, such as the 5-1 thrashing of Germany in Munich in September 2001, which helped secure qualification for the World Cup the following year.
But it is unavoidably the case that England men’s sole victory in a major tournament remains that in 1966, which is now closer in time to the First World War than to today16. England has had some exceptional players in this time - even if the talk of a ‘golden generation’ in the mid 2000s was always an hubristic hostage to fortune - but, at least until recently, the team has generally felt less than the sum of its parts. Still, I think it would be wrong to sing of ‘sixty years of hurt’: England fans have had plenty to cheer over the last decade or so, compared to the thirty years referred to in the original song, even if the team has not managed to get its hands on another trophy.
The lack of success of the England men’s football team has been put into perspective by the achievements of some of our other national teams over the last three decades. I don’t follow rugby, but even I watched England win the Rugby World Cup in 2003. England cricket ended a very fallow period with the Ashes triumph of 2005, and has since given us some amazing victories including the World Cup win at Lord’s in 2019. The Olympics are not really comparable to football, but Team GB’s performances have been transformed over the period, particularly as a result of Lottery funding: at the Atlanta Olympics shortly after Euro 96, GB was 36th in the medal table with just one gold; in the London Olympics just sixteen years later, we rose to third place with 29 golds, and four years later came second only to the USA. Even though things have dropped off since then, the seventh in the medal table in 2024, with 14 golds, was a long way from the lows of the 1990s.
And now England football fans wanting to cheer a national team have a more successful alternative to the men: England Women won the Euros in 2022 (there is a live Three Lionesses version of the song from that tournament, which sadly I can’t recommend) and retained them in 2025, as well as playing in the World Cup Final in 2023. I have found myself following the Lionesses at these recent tournaments more enthusiastically than I have the Men for a long time - even though there was much to like and admire about Southgate and his teams.
Personally, my main football allegiance is now Leicester - we moved to Leicestershire a few years after Euro 96, I got a season ticket for the King Power in 2014 and have been to hundreds of games since then (I’ve only ever been to one England men’s game, a Euro 2000 qualifier in 1999) - and I probably don’t need to remind any readers what the Foxes have achieved in the last decade, even if we’re not in great shape right now.
Still, the England men’s team ploughs on, continuing to drench its many fans in hope and disappointment. Perhaps because I’m older, the tournaments seem to come round ever more quickly these days, and don’t seem so much of an occasion when they do; I have been through the routine so many times, and can’t help feeling a bit jaded, certainly compared to the fresh-faced Baddiel and Skinner with their uncomplicated enthusiasm thirty years ago.
And the World Cup itself seems ethically questionable now, and much harder to love: Putin’s Russia hosted the tournament in 2018 followed by Qatar in 2022, and shortly the circus - of 48 teams, the largest ever (four times the size of Euro 96) - will be travelling to Trump’s America (along with Mexico and Canada) for the 2026 tournament. And FIFA, which runs that tournament, is…not exactly a model of integrity. When the football starts on 11th June, I’ll probably half-follow it, and I’ll watch and cheer the England games (the first England match is on 17th June). I am also sure I’ll listen to the thirtieth anniversary edition of the Three Lions, which will be released on 12th June. For all that, I’m not really sure how I would feel about England winning such a compromised event, though thankfully I don’t expect that is something we’ll need to worry about.
But the next tournament is Euro 2028, which will be jointly hosted by the UK and the Republic of Ireland, with the opening game in Cardiff and the semi-finals and Final at Wembley. I hope that event will be able to recapture something of the spirit of Euro 96, though in very different times.
When I hear Three Lions now, it is a reminder of that spirit, and of many other things besides: our early days in London, a sunny summer of possibilities, a time of heady optimism with lots to look forward to, and so much of life still to discover.
But it’s also a reminder of a time when I found international football tournaments properly exciting - I never did the stickerbook thing, but I followed the tournament qualification matches, and read the newspaper17 every day for the latest on the build-up; I worried about injuries and which players were ‘on the plane’, and followed debates about which formations we should play, impatient for the league season to be over and the proper football to start (I followed no club in those days). In 1996 we could follow England without caveats or embarrassment; the St George’s flag, then recently reclaimed from the far right, was everywhere that summer, on the streets and in the stadiums, and it’s horrible that it’s once more associated with racism, so I can’t help feeling ambivalent about it again.
All that said, there are moments in the song - which is why I still find it so powerful, even after all this time - when I’m transported back to that time and that feeling, and reminded of why I used to follow England so enthusiastically. The nervous anticipation before a long-awaited game, the excitement when the team played well, the frustration when they didn’t, the surge of joy when a goal was scored, the agony of penalties….
I would be delighted if Tuchel’s England could rekindle something of that feeling in the coming weeks. And if football were - somehow - to make an unlikely homecoming in 2026, despite all the doubts, maybe the Three Lions’ spell would finally be lifted; after all it’s been thirty years now, and that’s probably long enough.
Jules Rimet was a French football administrator who was the president of FIFA, football’s international governing body, from 1921-54, and instigated the first World Cup in 1930.
1992 was the last time the Euros only had eight teams, and the tournament was won by Denmark, a team that was not even supposed to be there - they were a last-minute replacement for Yugoslavia, which was disqualified as a result of the war in the Balkans.
England’s previous competitive game had been the 7-1 win over San Marino in November 1993, which was Graham Taylor’s last game as England manager.
The Football Clichés podcast a few years ago uncovered the original discussions from which the opening of Three Lions is taken - skip to the last ten minutes here. It is strange hearing the commentary in context, and the excitement of Adam Hurrey and the other presenters about the find demonstrates the ongoing cultural impact of the song.
Lineker had won the golden boot (most goals scored) at the World Cup in Mexico ten years earlier, the first tournament I remember watching.
Whatever that means.
Baddiel and Skinner had previously shared a flat in real life.
In fact that Steve Stone goal, one of only two he ever scored in nine appearances for England, was scored during a friendly against Portugal the previous December.
There is an article about the making of the scene in the pub, The Queen of the Isle in London’s Docklands (since demolished), in the Daily Mail here.
Apparently all the squad were offered the opportunity to be featured in the video, but some, including Shearer, weren’t interested.
Yes, really.
Three Lions is the only song ever to have gone to Number 1 in the UK four times with the same artist - twice in 1996, and then again during the World Cups in 1998 and 2018.
The official England song in 1998 was the utterly forgotten (How Does It Feel to Be) On Top of the World.
England is the only FIFA World Cup winner not to have won another trophy.
(Add explanation for younger readers.)