Come on England

I realise a lot of time has passed since I last put epidermis to qwerty, however, not a great deal has happened. I have no real news to impart, aside from perhaps that I have a lot of little white hairs in my fledgling beard. I believe the effect is called salt and pepper, though quite why patchy coloured facial hair should bring to mind an 80's female rap group is frankly beyond me.

The 2010 World Cup started with a whimper yesterday, hosts South Africa scored a fantastic opening goal of the tournament, only to be pegged back by a technically more sound and ambitious Mexico to draw 1-1. Later on, France took on rugged Uruguay (when I say rugged I mean dirty), and then proceeded to bore the pants off everyone watching. 0-0 the scoreline, though I am actually surprised that both teams managed to score that many.

Today is the big one. The day that all the hype, media speculation, John Terry shagging scandals, injuries, metatarsals, pub conversations, kit sales, beer buying, sudden t-shirt owning and general hubbub has been about. England take on USA in their group opener this evening. The pubs, bellies, sofas and later the spectators will all be heaving. Heaving to the weight and sound of a nation united. I wonder what would happen if we could bottle or harness the outpouring of empathy, emotion and raw spirit that will be flying about tonight. The spirit of England. Where all classes, all social levels, all men, women and children (save those who actually couldn't give a shit and are annoyed that Britain's Got Talent has finished), are willing for the same thing at the same time in the same voice with the same passion. Think of the millions of faces this evening. The grimaces as one of our key players takes a knock. The applause as he gets up and jogs it off. The several million pairs of hands on heads as we miss a glorious chance, the collective intake of breath as we give away a "freekick in a dangerous area" (I say let America have a freekick in Afghanistan - enjoy it). Then, if we could only for a moment capture the sound of the entire country as the roar goes up when one of our overpaid and ill educated heroes thumps, deflects, or handballs the ball in to the back of the opponents net, wouldn't that be marvellous? If the country could capture this spirit, this shared passion, this patriotic positivity, where we all become a nation rather than bricklayer, lawyer, nurse, binman or "bloody student", it would be a wonderful thing. Wouldn't it?

Good luck lads. Good luck everyone. Come on England.