In just a few weeks, we'll know just exactly what the England players thought of Sven-Goran Eriksson's management.
Chances are that their views will chime with many of us who saw through him four years ago.
John Terry, Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard and Wayne Rooney all have books due out soon, in collaboration with those awful media types they affect to despise. Strange isn't it, that the press get clobbered by Team England for telling the truth as they see it, yet when the gilded stars need someone to make shedloads of dosh in literary form, they turn to those scribes to make them sound coherent?
Well, stand by for some arm-squeezing by their hard-nosed publishers, who want something more for their generous advances than the anodyne, self-serving pap the players have been churning out since entering their bubble of self-delusion in Germany a month ago.
You can bet that Terry and company will be distancing themselves from Eriksson's pallid influence over the next couple of months. We'll be hearing more about the unhealthy, cosy relationship between head coach and captain, while David Beckham will ensure that his tent remains pitched on the mountain of availability.
His lachrymose performance on Sunday, when he resigned the England captaincy, smacked of someone at ease with the media spotlight, knowing which emotional buttons to press, hoping he'll still get picked on merit as a player. Aaron Lennon's views on the latter might be interesting.
Steve McClaren has already started the revisionist process, taking out a couple of the most influential football writers to dinner last week - thereby alienating all the others, straight away. Eriksson himself is touting his thoughts around the publishing world and he'll be indulged, just as he has been by the Football Association.
You only had to listen to the Blimpish bilge spouted by so many England supporters to accept that the rhetoric pumped out by Team England these past few weeks did the trick. The nation not only expected, but anticipated glory. Yet the facts flatly contradicted such one-eyed tosh.
In five matches in this World Cup, England produced just one memorable moment, Joe Cole's virtuoso goal against Sweden.
England's progress was peripheral, when you consider the quality produced by so many other sides. A few hours after England limped out on penalties, the technical skills, speed of thought and shimmering interpassing produced in the France versus Brazil match underlined the poverty of England's displays.
No amount of blubbing on the pitch by the England players and sympathetic applause from gullible fans can obscure the fact that the team again pulled up short. They showed all the valiant qualities of defiance and grit you expect in the quarter-finals of the World Cup - and if it had been otherwise, it would have been a disgrace - but they couldn't beat a moderate Portugal team of dreadfully limited ambitions.
Wayne Rooney's dismissal after an hour shouldn't be used as an excuse. England were limited in imagination and ponderous in approach when he was on the field.
Playing Rooney alone up front was a nonsense. The best player was marginalized and his frustration at playing an unfamiliar role contributed to the red mists.
Somehow England always come up with a side-issue that obscures the central truth that they weren't good enough. Beckham's red card in 1998, the humidity against Brazil's ten men in 2002, Rooney's injury against Portugal in 2004.
But you can't keep trotting out the excuses. Germany have missed just one penalty out of 18 in four World Cup penalty shoot-outs. England have failed in four of out five World Cup and European Championships since 1990. Luck has nothing to do with it, but mental strength and a big match temperament are the key factors.
The England players have been cosseted into believing they are special footballers. The Golden Generation, indeed. Eriksson has encouraged them, supervising a relaxed regime in which those preposterous WAGS were allowed to distract their partners from the job in hand.
If you want to pinpoint the moral vacuity and lack of focus in Eriksson's time, just ponder the presence of the WAGS. They represent an aimlessness that strikes at the heart of English football.
The players keep trotting out the old line about the Premiership being the best league in the world. It is not. It's exciting, but fallible with scant regard for defending and keeping possession of the ball. But an uncritical media - particularly Rupert Murdoch's empire who have a vested interest in the Premiership's continuing health - foster this belief in English football.
Gary Neville is at least prepared to dole out the unvarnished truth. His observations on Saturday night had the ring of an England captain of the future.
He and Owen Hargreaves seem the only ones in the squad to suggest a hinterland, an awareness of a wider world away from training cones and larking around in the team games room.
Perhaps the players are just dim, rather than lacking immense talent. They certainly enjoy an unchallenged lifestyle. These days, it's a thankless task trying to organise an interview with an England player - unless the questions are vetted by the agent, the goods they want to plug are heavily mentioned, or it's a newspaper exclusive for money.
They're out of touch with the public, it's the era of the darkened car windows and the shades, with no eye contact being made.
When Geoff Hurst came home the day after scoring a hat-trick in the 1966 World Cup final, his life altered forever, his wife pointed him in the direction of a dirty family car, with the suggestion that after he'd washed that, he should then mow the lawn. After all, he'd been away from home for a month. Now, it was back to reality.
None of these England players who have failed again need bother about working for a living after they finish kicking a ball.
They may, in time, regret such long periods of intellectual inertia, when they sat around telling each other they were world-class, or listened to the latest exciting shopping tales from their air-head partners.
As for Eriksson, he'll be fine. His timorous performance against Brazil in the 2002 World Cup symbolised a plodding competence, lacking the spark to win tournaments.
He can now laugh all the way to the bank that'll finance Nancy's colonic irrigations, but he must know in his heart that English football has wasted the last five years.
And he's responsible. And he's now fabulously wealthy. That's English football in a nutshell. ..SUPL: