George Frew offers his verdict on England's Belgium adventure . . .

Given the land of my birth, you would not expect me to be weeping tartan tears this fine morning over 'Inger-Lund's' demise in Euro 2000.

Especially after listening to those witty fans of theirs singing "Cheer up Craigy Brown" - a reference to the fact that Scotland were not competing, this time out - when they were two up in the first game against Portugal.

They soon stopped singing when the Portugese equalised, of course, and by the end of last night's football lesson against the Romanians, the only song the optimists among them had left was "What Kind of Fool Am I?" You could only marvel that some of these people had actually believed that 'Inger-Lund' had what it takes to win a major tournament like the European Championships.

Even in Kevin Keegan's patriotic proud heart, there must be a corner where common sense cancels out wild expectation; he knows better than most that, where the likes of Portugal and France are architects of the beautiful game, his squad are mostly a bunch of football hod-carriers.

Life has a cruel habit of teaching us hard lessons, a sad fact that the supporters of Scotland had brought forcibly home to them during the debacle of the 1978 World Cup. We have consequently opted for realism over romance and lowered our expectations. England would do well to do likewise. But I feel a genuine sense of sympathy for the genuine England fan - people like my neighbour, Jason. Last Saturday, young Jason moved his telly to the middle of his living room and festooned the place with the flags of St George. Nervously, he asked me if I thought England would beat the Germans. I told him they would.

When Shearer did the business, I swear I heard a whoop of delight ripping through the summer dusk. Jason was one happy lad and I was happy for him. I never saw him before last night's game and afterwards I just didn't have the heart to knock on his door and offer my condolences.

He might even have thought I'd come to gloat. Perish the thought - those of us who have served in the ranks of the Tartan Army know the feeling of watching a dream die before our eyes, and as Shakespeare said, only they that never felt a wound jest at scars. But wounds can be licked and dreams reborn. The World Cup qualifiers start in October.

The flags of St George will fly again.