The England team continue their march towards a place in the final.

Another faultless display in the last 16 and there is still a chance of appearing in the showpiece at Sun City a week on Sunday.

Yorkshireman Howard Webb and his assistants Darren Cann and Mike Mullarkey have done this country proud with their performances in South Africa. Their decision-making up to now has been spot on.

But what do you say about that other lot – the ones not with the red or yellow flags but the white version that they have waved from the second Robert Green did his best impression of an eel catcher in the American game?

Webb came to the tournament under a cloud after a pretty ordinary season in our Premier League. Our top-rated referee had delivered some average performances in the middle and there were suggestions that the pressure of an upcoming World Cup appearance was to blame.

Yet he goes on to the big stage and shows no signs of hesitancy or doubt. Handling the histrionics of Italy and Spain has been made to look child’s play by the former copper whose job normally entails keeping the likes of Bolton or Blackburn in check.

And so, to those others. You know, the ones who couldn’t wait to hot-foot it off on holiday as soon as they made their premature return to Blighty.

Our boys, our proud boys. Or at least, that’s what it said on the packaging when they flew off so full of it just a month ago.

The golden generation? If ever you needed proof of the saying “all that glisters is not gold” then their four matches were ample.

One win against the smallest nation to be there; one average effort against a half-decent American team; one dire draw and one thrashing. Thanks a lot, fellas.

A nation has been let down big-style. You don’t get much in return for your car flags these days.

Predictably the knives, and any other assorted weaponry, have been out for Fabio Capello. As manager, he must carry the can for his team’s pitiful short-comings.

That’s at least how it always works at club level. Players don’t do their job and so the coach cops it, getting frog-marched out of the revolving doors while his under-performing staff mumble platitudes along the lines of “we feel a bit guilty; we may have let him down a teensy weensy bit but never mind…”

The Football Association big-wigs gave their best ostrich impressions by initially sticking their heads in the sand and saying no verdict would be delivered on Capello’s future for at least a fortnight.

That changed today as they announced the Italian would remain in his post. But there was no such delaying with the media, where the witchhunt has been in full cry since the debacle against Germany. In their eyes, Don Fabio should be done for treason.

But is it really his fault? Could another manager – even an English one that everyone keeps banging on about – get more out of this rabble?

Capello’s strict manner may not have gone down well. His struggle to get to grips with the lingo has certainly not helped. But it’s far too simple to point the gun at the boss.

We know who the real culprits are. Capello didn’t let a 30-yard daisy-cutter dribble through his gloves; Capello didn’t miscontrol simple passes with the touch of an arthritic caveman; Capello didn’t allow a goalkick to sail 80 yards unattended.

While Webb and Co have upped their game to match the magnificent surroundings, that other English shower sunk the other way.

And now they’re all insinuating it’s down to the coach, one of the best in the modern game.

This World Cup has exposed one fallacy – and it’s not to question Capello’s hugely-successful European CV.

English players are simply not as good as we think. And certainly nowhere near as good as they think they are.

And it’s nothing to do with horrible Johnny Foreigner invading our game.

Carlos Tevez and Man City’s absent Brazilian Robinho – and possibly even Kevin Prince Boateng – aside, the overseas Premier League contingent have not exactly jumped to the fore. Fernando Torres? Cesc Fabregas? Nicolas Bendtner anyone?

No, the last couple of weeks have blown a gaping hole in the argument that we possess the best domestic league in the world.

The most-hyped, maybe, the most over-rated; definitely.

But players who look devastating against other average teams week in, week out have been made to look very ordinary when faced with a better class of opposition. No number of super-duper Sundays in the coming months can hide that.

The only solution is to plough more money into the grass-roots of our game. More technically proficient coaching is needed to improve the skills and tactical awareness of the generations to come.

But who’s going to put up the cash required and, more importantly, show the patience? Because it won’t happen overnight.

The Premier League’s “boom or bust” approach has been highlighted by the financial shenanigans at so many of its gold-plated members.

The real quality – or lack – of its product has been held up for all to see in South Africa.