We can't be in de Nile after this Egypt showing

Once we'd gratefully identified the pre-match booing of John Terry as ritualistic rather than malevolent, and with the hosts wasting no time in being thoroughly outplayed by the visitors, I caught myself dwelling on the last meeting with the Egyptians.

That was during the 1990 World Cup, when England had to beat the plucky little mummifiers to guarantee qualification for the knock-out stage.

Bobby Robson's side scraped home 1-0 despite being made to look lumpen and witless. The obvious difference between then and now, it occurred as Robert Green reclaimed Mohamed Zidan's well-struck shot from his net, was in goal. In Italia 90, England came unbearably close to the final because Peter Shilton was still magnificent between the posts.

Even those who unfairly blame Shilts for Germany's semi-final goal must concede that without him there would have been no semi-final at all.

He saved us against Egypt, against Belgium, and above all in the quarter-final against Cameroon.

By the narrowest of margins did he fail to do what Oliver Kahn would achieve for Germany in 2002 and singlehandedly (alright, you pedants, doublehandedly) take a mediocre team — for all the attacking gifts of Gazza, Chris Waddle and Gary Lineker, England were simply dreadful in four of their games — to a World Cup Final.

And so, all the talk of Jermain Defoe's failure to impress alongside Wayne Rooney up front, of Theo Walcott's anonymity, and of the defensive inadequacies of Matthew Upson and Wes Brown is as irrelevant in predictive terms as this match itself.

The last team to win a World Cup without a reliable goalkeeper was Brazil in 1970 and they had one or two compensatory outfield talents the like of which the game has seldom seen.

The Spanish, whom I expect to lift the trophy in Johannesburg, have at least four of them. England have none. West Ham's Robert Green, although given no opportunity to prove it last night, can no more be trusted than Birmingham's promising but unseasoned Joe Hart.

As for David James, still the favourite to start in South Africa despite the loss of form engendered by the chaos at Portsmouth, on his genius for self-destruction we need not linger.

So if this game needlessly confirmed anything, it is that this potentially lethal flaw leaves not a millimetre's wiggle room.

Only with every first-choice outfield player on top form do England stand a realistic chance of reaching the final — and that requires the return from injury, in time to regain match fitness, of the lingerie model Ashley Cole and that Usain Bolt of monobrows, Aaron Lennon.

As Leighton Baines unwittingly underlined, Cole is essential less for the width and variety he offers when raiding down the left.

As for Lennon, his staggering turn of foot from a standing start is a unique shock tactic advantage Shaun Wright-Phillips cannot supply. If he could, it wouldn't be unique.

With that pair absent, it was no surprise to find England mildly embarrassed by a typically quick, slick and progressive Egypt.

You don't keep becoming champions of Africa without creative talent, with the majority provided here by Zidan, a striker so naturally mellow and loved up that he can afford to do without that missing E.

England, in classical Wembley style, looked doltish throughout a first half that at least nudged the jeering away from John Terry and onto the entire side. Quite right, too. This is a team game.

Fabio Capello is not the man to be so blithe about a friendly, of course, and England's sharp improvement after the break was predictable.

The arrival of Peter Crouch for the disappointing Defoe and of Gareth Barry for Frank Lampard, allied to a show of temper from Wayne Rooney (clearly the de facto captain now, regardless of who wears the armband), decisively shifted the momentum.

When Wright-Phillips replaced Walcott and instantly linked cutely with Crouch to allow the human javelin to equalise, the result was not in doubt.

Late on this second-rate double act — the Cannon and Ball to Lennon and Rooney's Morecambe and Wise – reunited to give Crouch his second from an offside position.

Yet it was the middle of England's three goals that resonated, as Essam El Hadary wretchedly-flapped SWP's unmenacing shot into his net.

Without an outstanding goalie, it reminded us international football is an exceedingly hard game at which to prosper.

Depressing as it is to face the fact, it might avert a pulverising avalanche of anticlimax in the summer if we cease being in de Nile about it now.