Austria 0-0 England

33 min: Owen has just walked off the pitch and has been replaced by Defoe! What's wrong with him? Nobody seems to know. Perhaps he's simply been overwhelmed with the futility of it all. News as we have it, which will possibly be never.

31 min: Kuljic has half a sniff outside the box but is denied a shot at goal by Lampard. The ball is shuttled up the pitch and then there's some fantastic play by England at last. Gerrard shifts it towards the box where Crouch flicks on to Owen... who takes a shot! Yes, there's been a shot. However it's straight at Manninger, who can tip over acrobatically for the cameras.

30 min: Just seen a shot of McClaren sitting on the bench, shoulders slumped, a totally blank expression on his face. He looks like a man who has given up completely. This is painful to watch.

28 min: Beckham tries to score direct from a free kick from nearly 40 yards out. You don't need me to tell you how it panned out, do you? This is utterly abject.

25 min: Macho is jiggered. He's OK - he's not out cold or anything - but he's got the funk about Crouch's challenge: B. Former Arsenal keeper Alex Manninger replaces him.

23 min: Macho is down injured. It seems Crouch caught him in that previous incident, and he's got head knack. Oh dear. "You can tell Richard Walsh that I was fully intending to try using F5 to refresh," writes Oliver Dennis, keeping us abreast of the latest developments in this fascinating browser-related drama. "But isn't it customary in these friendlies to save the meaningless substitutions for the second half?"

20 min: Dear me, Austria are terrible. Beckham sends a ball in from the right; the cross is weak and rolls towards Macho, whose efforts to scoop the ball up are anything but: he flaps at it like a fop, nearly allowing the alert Crouch to toe-poke home. Luckily for the home side, Schiemer is on hand to shank clear.

17 min: SOMETHING HAPPENS!!! SORT OF. England win a corner. Beckham swings it over the penalty spot. With none of the Austrian defenders bothering to move, Richards comes powering in but doesn't meet the ball squarely with his head and watches his effort go sailing high and wide of goal. Hmm.

15 min: Really, honestly, I'm not being lazy. There simply is nothing to describe. "I rarely use F5 to refresh but to cut and paste I use CTRL C followed by CTRL V," writes Mac Millings, trumping the new low of 4 mins with an all-new new low. "FUNK-O-METER® rating: C, if such a thing exists." It doesn't. "I cut and pasted the words FUNK-O-METER® rating. Can you guess how?" I should be exercising some sort of quality control here, but then again you could say the same for Steve McClaren and the FA, so.

12 min: This is a poor excuse for a match so far. Joe Cole tries a couple of stepovers down the left; he's no Cristiano Ronaldo. He does eventually manage to pull the ball back from the byline, but it doesn't quite reach Owen, who is standing in the centre in a casual fashion.

8 min: A mild panic in the England box as Ivanschitz runs about with the ball at his feet; finally some poor close control allows Carson to rush off his line and wallop the ball into touch.

7 min: Richards combines brilliantly with Owen down the right wing. Some really crisp, neat passing nearly frees Crouch in the area, but Schiemer does well to steam in and hoof clear.

4 min: Huff, puff, huff, huff, puff. England are seeing most of the ball but not doing very much with it. Richards looks up for it down the right, though. "Maybe Oliver Dennis (see FUN FUN FUN could jazz up his refreshing by pressing F5 instead," suggests Richard Walsh in an email which possibly represents a new low for our minute-by-minute reports. I blame myself.

2 min: Richards wins a corner. Beckham wastes it. FUNK-O-METER® rating: B.

And we're off! "Never mind a minute-by-minute on this pointless friendly," harumphs Nick Dunkeyson. "Why isn't Guardian Unlimited doing a minute-by-minute on Children In Need? Do you hate charity?" Not at all, Nick, in fact I can tell you what's going to happen on Children In Need right now: a major celebrity, Jonathan Ross perhaps, will duet with the Spice Girls, perhaps dressed as - hee heeeee - a Spice Girl, while some newsreaders will dance around and belt out some showtunes. Anyway, the game's started and... and... watching Huw Edwards, Natasha Kaplinsky and Matthew Amroliwala sing Three Little Maids From School Are We has never seemed so appealing.

Austria, who are worse than useless: Macho, Standfest, Schiemer, Gercaliu, Stranzl, Sariyar, Aufhauser, Ivanschitz, Garics, Weissenberger, Kuljic. Subs: Manninger, Kienast, Ertl, Fuchs, Hiden, Kavlak, Leitgeb, Saumel, Harnik, Patocka.

A proper zinger, right here: "They too have named their team," reports David Studer. "It's called Austria." This is the level we're dealing with this evening. I'm unlikely to be taking it up a notch, to be perfectly honest with you. Sorry, this is just the way it's got to be.

FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUNK-O-METER®: B: "Is tonight's game the most pointless ever?" mopes Russell Williams, who I suggest already knows the answer. "I'm currently stuck in sub-zero Moscow stopping in with a cold and with bugger all to do on a Friday night," whines Oliver Dennis. "Very depressing. Still, not as depressing as pressing refresh every minute for updates on a meaningless friendly." "There's no point to it," cries Ian Brunsdon, who could be talking about this match, his life, my life or his email. Yes, it's party time, right here, right now, on Guardian Unlimited Sport!

Austria, who are worse than useless, haven't named their team yet. Or if they have, I don't know about it. The minute I do, I'll tell you.

Gerrard and Lampard together in central midfield (FUNK-O-METER®: B): Carson; Richards, Campbell, Lescott, Bridge; Beckham, Gerrard, Lampard, Joe Cole; Crouch, Owen. Subs: James, Ashley Cole, Shorey, Brown, Barry, Neville, Bentley, Downing, Young, Smith, Robinson, Wright-Phillips, Defoe.

Referee: Nicolai Vollquartz (Denmark)

Introducing THE GUARDIAN UNLIMITED PATENTED FUNK-O-METER®. Steve McClaren's impotent rage as he watches yet another shambles unfold in front of his eyes, Frank Lampard's mood as he flays a shot 17 metres over the bar, Steven Gerrard's pique as pass after pass sails into the dark of the far stand: this baby can measure anything. And it will; kick off is at 8pm.