England’s finest World Cup XI

Today, a man called Roy and his squadron of plucky footballists take on the might of Uruguay and a small man with sticking-out teeth in a "six-pointer". 

So with sound editorial reason, and definitely not jumping on the bandwagon of a subject we don't necessarily understand in sufficient depth, Top Gear has assembled the finest XI of English ‘players' to do their nation proud in South America. And by ‘players', obviously we mean ‘cars'. Yeah, you saw that twist coming, right?

Please note we're not suggesting that Hodgson deploys these 11 lumps of sharp, powerful metal onto the Arena Amazonia on June 14 for England's first game against the squishy, unquestionably human Italian team. That'd be hideously messy. Though possibly less messy what might actually happen.

Some say this is nothing more than an excuse to run pretty pictures of English cars, barely strung together with a series of weak footballing puns. All we know is, they're probably right.

The big lad between the sticks. Commanding in the area, that area specifically comprising the boroughs of Kensington, Chelsea and Fulham, and the outer rings of Cheshire and Essex where all footballers live.

While Hodgson might have handed Ashley Cole instant international retirement and gone with Leighton Baines at left-back, we're sticking with experience. Weller-haired mod Baines would be represented by a flag-festooned Jensen Interceptor, but wouldn't you rather have this?

OK, the Aston is looking long in the tooth nowadays, but still a classy performer. Quite an engine. Sheesh. Can this already overdrawn metaphor possibly sustain another nine pages?

Like Yaya Toure or Gareth Barry, the Wraith doesn't look like it should be quick. Like Yaya Toure and entirely unlike Gareth Barry, the Wraith has a surprising turn of pace. Reassuringly expensive. Slight German accent (a bit like Owen Hargreaves used to have).

We're always told a manager wants versatile players in his squad, and they don't come more versatile than the RRS. You've never seen Phil Jones crawl his way through four feet of Midlands mud, have you?

Though born in Germany, the scrappy Cooper qualifies for England on account of a maternal grandmother who once lived in Oxford. Like Glen Johnson, a versatile performer. Like Glen Johnson, also good in "attack mode" on the right surface. Metaphor creaking badly.

The consummate all-rounder, this classy Northerner effortlessly covers the playing surface. Though, with a 2.3-tonne kerbweight and four-wheel drive, will make a horrible mess of that playing surface. Well used to the sight of Premiership car parks, and a big favourite of Barbie-haired BBC pundit Robbie Savage.

Previously more mouth than trousers, the F-Type now packs the performance to match its... oh god, are we not there yet? How many players are there on a football team? Four more to go? Seriously?

Ooh, just thought of one. Ready? Elegant it might look, but the F-Type has a bit of a nasty side. Does that work?

Not much of a team player, the BAC is selfish but boasts flashes of brilliance. Like Wayne Rooney, born in the north-west. Unlike Wayne Rooney, doesn't attempt to hide lack of 'wet weather cover' under bizarre thatch arrangement.

The most exciting thing to emerge from Somerset since the A303, the flyweight Atom boasts a face-bending turn of pace and the faint whiff of fresh manure. Just like [name of player redacted for legal reasons].

The daddy. Pace, power and an electric module, which is almost definitely banned under FIFA legislation. Look, here's the problem. The P1 is a car, not a footballer, and thus surprisingly tough to describe in footballing terms.

The lower-league lad done good. The Rickie Lambert. Journeyman pro rather than big-money galactico, the 160 is an honest, hard-working grafter with a low centre of gravity. In fact, possibly no centre of gravity. Oh, thank goodness. We're done. Let us never speak of this again.