I mopped my sweating brow. The World Cup final had gone to penalties. If I saved this, England would win the World Cup. I would be remembered as the greatest goalkeeper England had ever had. But suddenly I felt cold and clammy. ? My arms felt completely stiff, my legs were rooted to the spot. I couldn't save it. I realised I was dreaming. Anything can happen in a dream. So, I ordered the calm and composed striker to blast it over the bar. "Why?" he asked. "Because I said so," I replied. And guess what? He actually did.