It was Elm Street all over again.

A late, devastating, truly shocking nightmare for English football eyes which saw Zinedine Zidane score two goals in injury time to deny England what had appeared to be the most glorious of starts to their European Championship campaign.

Sol Campbell stood with a dazed expression, Steven Gerrard tried to comfort Frank Lampard but there was no comfort after a script which shook Sven-Goran Eriksson's men to the core.

A goal to the good through the superb Lampard for so long. They should have been two goals up but David Beckham saw his penalty kick saved by goalkeeper Fabien Barthez.

Even so, even allowing for that profligacy, England did not deserve this.

They did not deserve to see the Zidane free-kick which flew past England goalkeeper David James before he had even moved. Truly they did not deserve to concede a penalty with the last kick of the game after James had brought down Thierry Henry.

Not because Henry was not caught by James. He was, upended by the most agricultural of challenges as England lost their concentration.

But England and Eriksson did not deserve the outcome - a potential two-point lead in Group B turned into no points, rock bottom and in dire danger of exiting these championships.

And all gone in 60 seconds. Football has not seen such drama since Manchester United won the Champions League back in 1999 with two goals in injury time.

Now the question is how will they react to such a demoralising result?

They will need all their courage, all their powers of recovery, all the organisation and structure Eriksson can bring to a team which must feel shell-shocked.

And for so long this had been almost the perfect performance.

True, more grit than guile, more good, honest sweat than cerebral football. But sometimes it is better to do the simple things effectively than the eye-catching stuff not so well.

If ever there was a game which demonstrated that maxim it was this one.

There is still hope because we saw nothing for 90 minutes from the French, the reigning champions, to trouble England unduly.

And certainly there is nothing to fear from Switzerland and Croatia, England's other opponents in Group B, who earlier had fought out an insipid goalless draw.

Gerrard and Lampard had been tireless in midfield, cutting off France's supply line to Zidane, devouring space, denying the French time to apply their brush strokes to a game which was never going to be about artistry.

It was about passion and commitment and the snarling tenacity of Paul Scholes and, if the truth be told, Wayne Rooney, who lived on the touchline of sanity at times but nevertheless proved a constant menace.

And then there was Ledley King, the Tottenham man playing only his second international and his first competitive one. He was quite magnificent.

"Thierry Henry, you're having a laugh," was the favourite ditty of the England followers - and for so long it carried some substance. Henry, undeniably the best striker in the world, barely had a kick and that was down to the instant understanding of King with his more experienced partner Sol Campbell.

But mostly it was a collective effort, every man doing his duty, every player knowing his role and sticking to his job - until that final miserable finale.

The English army of fans had outnumbered the French almost three to one and they laid claim to the Stadium of Light with flags and banners proclaiming their allegiances - to Swindon, Doncaster, Luton, Leicester, Bristol, Glasgow Rangers and surreally the 'Back of the Bus' amid hundreds of others.

In places the red-and-white was dotted with the vivid colours of Les Bleus, highlighting the fact that UEFA had sold tickets on the internet. Inevitably, while the British National Anthem was respected meticulously by the French, La Marseilles was accompanied by whistles, boos and jeers.

The balmy air of a wonderfully calm Portuguese evening could not have crackled with more tension or anticipation if this had been the final of the tournament.

For long periods after that the English walls of sound fell silent. Noise is a fundamental indicator of how a football match is progressing. Supporters rarely shout when the opposition has the ball and where France treasured the football in that first half-hour, too often England gave the ball away cheaply. It is not a recent problem. It has been the way with English football.

France easily might have been two goals to the good if Zidane's right-foot shot had been a shade more accurate, if Trezeguet's header had gone an inch under rather than just over the bar, if Vieira's back heel had not been flicked from the path of Trezeguet by Ledley King.

But football is not about 'what ifs,' it's about 'what is' and after being given something of a footballing lesson for the majority of the first-half it was England who struck first.

It has so often been the way with Eriksson's side. Play well, play badly, play indifferently, they somehow find the way to way to create the crucial strike, not with intricate patterns or flashy football but with ruthless simplicity.

There could be no better description of Lampard's 38th minute header - a training ground manoeuvre which doubtless he has practised countless times this week.

A Beckham free-kick swung over with trademark curl and pace and a header from the Chelsea midfielder which rippled the French net to create the sort of roar usually only heard at the launch of a space rocket.

Eriksson sprung from his seat in the dug-out. His face contorted into a myopic grin and he clapped, not in the manic manner of an Alex Ferguson but reservedly in the way of his countrymen.

France 0 England 1, the Swede was on his way and who cared if it was largely against the run of play.

Not the red-and-white hordes who struck up the chant "Are you Scotland in disguise," which was probably lost on their Gallic rivals but they shouted lustily anyway. The English wall of sound, it seemed, had been rebuilt at the Stadium of Light.

If only Beckham had converted that penalty when Rooney was brought down by Mikael Silvestre.

He did not but it was a fabulous save from Barthez. If the English concentration had held out for one more minute - but again that is an 'If only' and football is about 'What is."

'If only, if only.' It was not to be. And if it was not Elm Street then how about 'Gone in 60 seconds.'