World Cup Countdown

This Sunday (14th June) brought great excitement to me. The start of the Confederations cup had finally arrived.

Not that I’m really that interested in it at all. I’ll watch the games (Predominantly because I’m desperate to have one last drink from the cup of competitive football before the long drought otherwise known as pre-season begins) but being honest, I see the tournament as being up there with the Intertoto Cup and the World Club Championship for (its lack of) entertainment and meaning, not to mention purpose.

No, the reason that the Confederations Cup excites me is because it means that the next major international football Championship is just around the corner.

For me, despite being one of those who supports club over country, major International tournaments such as the World Cup (And the European Championships) provide the exception to the rule.

My first ever memory of football was the sheer excitement and anticipation that engulfed England during Euro ’96. Living less than 5 miles away from the world-famous Wembley Stadium, I was quickly infected with a bout of football fever so severe that I still haven’t been able to shake it off to this day. Despite my very young years, it still gives me great pride to look back on the unity that was present in the country.

You see, the tournament left such an impression on me that I can still remember many events as though they happened yesterday. From ‘Three Lions’ seemingly being played on a loop on every radio station and music channel in the country, to the delight that Shearer’s header from Adams’ flick-on in the semi-final brought not only to my very young self, but also to millions of others across the nation. Gareth Southgate’s miss in the shoot-out of the semi-final, coupled with Andreas Möller’s success from the spot triggered the first of many rivers of tears that I have shed whilst watching ‘The beautiful game’. I’m sure I’m not the only one who isn’t ashamed to admit that I cried my eyes out that night; just I have done on many other occasions following England since.

But as football fans, we will never learn. We will always come back for more, putting the inevitable heartbreak that is sure to occur aside for a few weeks. We’ll let the stream of media expectation carry us until it eventually trickles out and we’re all left heartbroken and thirsty for success once again.

I just love the excitement, unity and expectation that comes with a major international tournament. The sheer grand scale of it is fantastic. It’s almost as if the whole country just comes to a stand-still and jumps on the England supporting bandwagon. The amount of flags hanging out of windows pay testament to that.

Take the quarter final against Brazil in Japan 7 years ago as an example. Despite the differing time zones meaning that the game kicked off at 7:45AM, I can still remember the whole of my school being packed into our small hall to watch the game on a dodgy projector. Looking back on the roar that must have erupted from Vaughan School like a particularly volatile volcano when Michael Owen capitalised on Lucio’s error to dink the ball over the goalkeeper is something that still sends shivers down my spine to this day.

I think it’s the sheer passion, anticipation, hope and belief that grips the country harder than a child grabbing onto a rail whilst on a rollercoaster, that has caused me to become a total England fanatic. Born in England but with German blood, it’s the love of football, the real fervour that fills this country up whenever England compete in a major tournament that make me such a passionate English fan. I, like millions of others across the land, am just infatuated with these tournaments.

We try not to be, because the pain that follows defeat is almost as awful as not qualifying at all. But we believe nevertheless. We can’t help but believe that one day in the near future, the England team will emulate the actions of that of Sir Alf Ramsey’s of 1966. There will be no heartbreak then. The only tears that will fall will be tears of joy. It probably won’t happen next year. But you never know. And regardless of the result, you can be sure that once again, the whole nation will be caught up in the pandemonium that follows the World Cup.