BBC sport’s Mike Henson share:
Tracing the spread of a viral internet sensation can be challenging.
It could have started with YouTube user Quincey11 and his friends, gathered in front of their local bar’s fruit machine and festive decorations Bongdaso.
By the time of the quarter-final victory against Sweden, it had blossomed into sing-alongs all over England.
Natasha Hamilton, lead singer of Atomic Kitten, recorded her own version around the same time, showcasing her vocal range from the comfort of her sofa.
Finally, in the cavernous Luzhniki Stadium in Moscow, over an hour after the semi-final loss to Croatia, a group of England fans continued to chant the song persistently. Gareth Southgate, tired yet proud, eventually emerged to thank them for their unwavering support.
It became the unexpected anthem of the summer of 2018: the 2000s chart-topper ‘Whole Again’ revived and playfully reimagined as a tribute to Gareth Southgate.
Six years later, it remains a fixture in the songbook. If anything, its relevance has only grown.
Emotional yet uncertain. Affectionate yet cautious. The relationship between Southgate and England has never been straightforward; the excitement of 2018 has occasionally soured into tension, especially in Germany.
Through much of Euro 2024, it seemed like everyone was merely going through the motions. For Southgate and England’s supporters, it felt like a strained relationship finally reaching a welcome conclusion.
However, if this is where their paths diverge, it’s a relationship that concludes in a more positive place than anyone could have anticipated.
Twenty-eight years ago, Southgate found himself in front of a vastly different audience, each with unique musical preferences.
On Sunday, June 23, 1996, 30,000 punks assembled in Finsbury Park for the Sex Pistols’ Filthy Lucre reunion tour. Anticipation was palpable, as the band had not performed in Britain for two decades.
Backstage, rock-and-roll celebrities mingled. Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher smoked with actress Patsy Kensit and a circle of friends, while Jonny Depp held hands with his then-girlfriend Kate Moss.
None of them were included in the lineup to introduce the headlining act.
Instead, it was Southgate, looking clean-cut and youthful, who stood before the crowd of black leathers and vivid hairstyles. Speaking into the microphone, he warmly introduced John Lydon and the band to the stage.
Stuart Pearce had initiated it.
England manager Terry Venables had reservations about allowing Pearce to attend the gig. However, Southgate’s company—though not a punk enthusiast himself—was instrumental in persuading Venables, as he was curious and eager to break the monotony of their tournament base.
What could possibly go wrong with Southgate, the most level-headed member of the squad, joining Pearce?
In the end, it turned out perfectly. Pearce and Southgate’s brief appearance on stage was met with cheers and applause from the crowd.
“A year ago, I wouldn’t have been asked to introduce the Croydon Male Voice Choir,” Southgate quipped a few months later.
“The entire situation was surreal, but it epitomized how the tournament unfolded.”
Southgate’s own visibility had increased significantly.
He had transitioned to a central defender just a year prior, after Aston Villa manager Brian Little converted him from a midfielder.
He earned his first England cap in December 1995, making his international debut just a few months before Euro 1996.
However, he became indispensable, playing every minute of the tournament alongside Tony Adams in the central defense Bongdalu.
The team had a wild, unpredictable side. Before the tournament, their trip to Hong Kong included a notorious night out where players had spirits poured down their throats while seated in a dentist’s chair. On the return flight, mischief ensued with seats and TV screens getting damaged by high-altitude antics.
Southgate wasn’t part of the night out. While the squad collectively took responsibility for the plane damage, it was hard to imagine Southgate bearing even a fraction of the blame.
During his teenage years at Crystal Palace’s Mitcham training ground, he stood out as slightly more provincial and less boisterous. His thoughtful and precise way of speaking earned him the nickname ‘Nord’, a nod to television host Denis Norden.
His youth team manager cautioned him that he would need to toughen up mentally and physically to advance to the senior side.
Quietly, Southgate embraced the challenge, growing both physically and vocally.
One evening, he made a mistake. Following a youth tournament in Italy, he had an uncharacteristic night drinking tequila and ended up vomiting over Palace chairman Ron Noades on his way back to his hotel room.
In his typical manner, Southgate arranged for Noades’ clothes to be dry-cleaned the following morning.
It was an unusual, perhaps isolated, misstep.
By the age of 23, Southgate had been appointed captain of Palace, guiding them to promotion from the second tier and facing off against Roy Keane in the FA Cup semi-finals.
Regardless of the challenges he faced—whether older teammates, aggressive opponents, changing clubs, or switching positions—Southgate consistently rose to the occasion, proving wrong those who mistook his composed demeanor for a lack of resilience.
Therefore, just three days after the Sex Pistols gig, when England had used up all their regular penalty takers in the semi-final, Southgate, the team’s least experienced member at the time, gathered his courage and stepped up once more.
“I volunteered, really,” Southgate stated in 2018.
“The kind of person I am, I believe you should step forward,” Southgate explained.
It wasn’t his first time doing so.
In October 1992, one of Southgate’s teammates at Palace had hesitated over a late penalty to secure victory against Ipswich. Southgate stepped up instead, hitting the post. Unfortunately, Palace were eventually relegated on goal difference.
Southgate had not taken a penalty since that incident.
His shot at Wembley was solid but too central. Germany goalkeeper Andreas Köpke guessed correctly and blocked it with relative ease.
The ball deflected away, and from Wembley to beyond, a dream shattered and a world came crashing down.
The following morning, Southgate departed for the Indonesian island of Bali with his girlfriend, seeking to escape the emotional aftermath.
Several days into their vacation, while hiking up a volcano, a local man recognized Southgate as English. Upon confirmation, his face lit up. “You, penalty drama,” he exclaimed.
Upon his return, Southgate was greeted with a flood of encouraging letters from fans who had witnessed how the same penalty shootout six years prior had deeply affected Pearce and Chris Waddle. Among the correspondents was Tony Blair, the future Prime Minister.
Southgate reflected in an interview later that summer, expressing, “I don’t think you ever shake off that kind of moment,” he admitted.
“People might always remember me as ‘the one who missed the penalty.’ But I believe I have enough time in my career to achieve other things.
“I possess the ambition and capability to leave a different legacy.”
Occasionally, a fragment of the past surfaces on social media timelines—a relic from a bygone era, as remote as a desert island.
A glowing recommendation for fish and chips in Wetherby.
A startled remark on the exorbitant cost of text messaging in Switzerland.
A passing lament on the lack of innovation in pitch marking.
For four years, spanning from 2009 to 2013, Gareth Southgate found himself, for the first time since adulthood, disconnected from the dressing room.
His managerial career had hit a snag. Taking charge at Middlesbrough directly after retiring from playing in the top flight at just 35, he aimed to make a seamless transition.
Yet, two seasons of mid-table finishes followed by relegation to the Championship spelled the end of his tenure there.
It’s a critical juncture where many footballers falter—struggling to navigate the transition from a career flush with time and wealth to one lacking direction and momentum.
However, Southgate embraced his Mitcham mentality, engaging in discussions, learning continuously, and striving to ensure the success of his second act.
He immersed himself in football, attending matches across all levels from grassroots to elite competitions. Alongside this, he undertook media commitments and spent 18 months focusing on youth development at the Football Association.
Equally important was his clarity about what he didn’t want to pursue. Despite garnering praise from FA executives, he emerged as a leading candidate for the newly established technical director role within the organization.
However, instead of delving deeper into the FA’s bureaucratic structure, he chose to leave.
When the opportunity arose to succeed his old friend Pearce as England Under-21 coach—a role in the dressing room rather than a boardroom—he opted for that path.
But in football, as in life, chance often plays a decisive role.
When England suffered a shocking defeat against Iceland in the Euro 2016 Round of 16 and Roy Hodgson resigned, Southgate’s name was floated as a potential successor.
However, not everyone was convinced. Some viewed him as a safe, establishment choice.
Harry Redknapp expressed reservations about Southgate becoming England manager, describing it as “scary,” and endorsing more seasoned candidates like Steve Bruce or Sam Allardyce instead.
Interestingly, Southgate seemed to share this sentiment. He withdrew himself from consideration, citing the timing not being right for him, and eventually, Allardyce was appointed to the role.
But 67 days later, the position was once again up for grabs.
Allardyce had been caught on camera by undercover reporters posing as Far Eastern businessmen. Though the infamous ‘pint of wine’ captured on their covert video turned out to be a trick of the light, Allardyce’s remarks were all too genuine.
He hinted at ways to bypass regulations on third-party player ownership, ridiculed his predecessor Hodgson, and criticized Hodgson’s assistant Gary Neville.
With his credibility shattered, Allardyce had to resign. Southgate was approached to step in as interim manager of the senior team. This time, he accepted the challenge and has remained in the role ever since.
The jokes were unrelenting.
Southgate lounges in a bathtub, life jacket snug around his torso amidst the suds. He pedals on a stationary exercise bike, helmet securely fastened to his head. His Nando’s order—plain chicken burger, straight chips, corn cob—arrives bland and uninspired.
As England progressed through the early rounds of Euro 2024, displaying all the grace of a fatberg sliding through a sewer, tensions heightened.
To his detractors, Southgate’s squad had morphed into a reflection of the manager himself—a caricature of caution and carefulness, lacking in dynamism and aggression.
Critics observed England’s gameplay as one where joy seemed meticulously regulated out, with their attack often second-guessing itself, hesitating on instincts, and opting instead to shift the ball sideways while sharing responsibility.
Their concerns were somewhat justified. Prior to the Euro 2024 final, nine teams had more shots on target than England. Even the Czech Republic, who exited in the group stages, managed only one shot fewer. England also finished the tournament ranked 10th in xG, highlighting the overall quality of the chances they created throughout the competition.
The goalless draw against Slovenia, possibly one of their most lackluster performances, was marred by some England fans throwing beer at Southgate as he approached to thank them for their support.
“I took on this role to elevate English football, to create evenings like this,” he reflected after guiding England to the semi-finals.
“It’s difficult to ignore when things become as personal as they have been. It does hurt.”
Despite this, Southgate has numerous achievements to boast about. His consistency in major tournaments is unparalleled among England managers.
In 2018, he steered England to the World Cup semi-finals for the first time in a generation.
In 2021, he led England to their maiden European Championships final. This summer, he has repeated that success, securing England’s first major final away from home in history.
For a nation that has historically struggled to reach the podium at World Cups and Euros, suddenly being preoccupied with stylistic critiques when they do seems overly demanding.
The semi-final triumph over the Netherlands, highlighted by Southgate’s substitutions of Cole Palmer and Ollie Watkins, who combined for the decisive late goal, shifted that narrative and countered claims that Southgate is slow to react when England lose momentum mid-game.
Palmer, once again brought on as a substitute, scored England’s lone goal in the final loss to Spain.
However, despite reports before the final suggesting that the FA is attempting to convince Southgate to stay, it feels like a natural juncture may still have been reached; England could benefit from a new energy, and Southgate might be eager for a fresh challenge.
Despite Atomic Kitten’s protests, the spark may have faded. Southgate and England no longer ignite each other as they once did.
When he departs, Southgate will leave behind a series of memorable campaigns that marked several summers.
There is now a revitalized bond between players and the public. During Euro 2016, a mixture of indifference and ridicule had strained that relationship.
Internally, Southgate has ensured that a team, often divided by cliques and club allegiances, has remained united through both on-field challenges and off-field disruptions.
He could have easily taken a back seat and allowed players to take charge in the summer of 2020 and its aftermath. It would have been the simpler path, and one he could have justified.
Instead, he stood steadfastly alongside them.
“He said, ‘This is a unique group. They are humble, proud, and empowered to be themselves,'” external
“I’ve never believed we should limit ourselves to just football.”
“I understand that my words carry weight, not because of who I am, but because of the position I hold. I have a responsibility to the broader community to use my voice, and so do the players.”
Most importantly, he led his country with quiet decency, sincerity, and humanity—qualities whose importance becomes evident in their absence.
Of course, none of this fills a trophy cabinet at St. George’s Park, but it is a legacy to balance against any silverware.