After Harry Kane, Wayne Rooney is emerging as the World Cup’s most treasured Englishman, a powerful voice speaking truth to Thomas Tuchel’s power, articulating our frustrations with the national team he was supposed to embellish.
From his seat on a BBC sofa in Salford, Rooney presents as the “glow-up” king of commentary, a kind of Anthony Bourdain of the football classes, clean shaven, slimmed down, delivering clear-eyed analysis in cashmere.
As a player Rooney was always an undervalued intellect, a victim of petty football rivalries and class prejudice. Profiled out of serious debate by the Scouse framing, a kid from Croxteth fit only for kicking balls and boozing.
Goodness knows he didn’t help himself. How could he, catapulted as he was into a different postcode and culture by virtue of the butane in his boots? He recently celebrated his 18th wedding anniversary with wife Coleen. Together they seemed to have worked it out, reaching an accommodation with fame and fortune, controlling it rather than the reverse.
The revelation in the studio is the newfound confidence that has given his voice the same authority he had as a player. The comfort he feels alongside Micah Richards and Joe Hart has reached changing room levels. As a 15-year-old, he looked around the Everton group and assessed himself to be the standout player in it. This is the vibe he is giving off in Salford.
