Dreaming of a White Summer

Although the name of this blog could be interpreted as a potential title for Nick Griffin's autobiography, it is actually the hope that is rising up inside me with each passing day, the hope that England can finally reclaim the World Cup this summer. It seems I'm one of the few people in the country to actually believe, not simply hope, that we can do it. It might simply be a childish dream. I might just be kidding myself that we can win it, and this belief may just be borne out of desire, rather than any substance. But I hate going into any sporting occasion thinking my team won't win it, so I'm believing. I couldn't think of 25 points, like the NSDAP, or even 10, like David Gold and David Sullivan, so here are 4 points on why we can finally end 44 years of hurt.

We don't expect to.
In 2006, there was a nationwide feeling of jubilance before we'd even started. The FA had booked Trafalgar Square in expectation for the glorious homecoming, and we'd beaten the mighty footballing force of Jamaica 6-0. Then we realised that there were actually lots of teams far more organised than us, and it all collapsed around us. This time, nobody thinks we stand much of a chance. We've got the second oldest squad, and we're on the way down. There is an eery calm descending over England, rather than an overwhelming expectation that we usually experience before a World Cup. Perhaps we've finally learned our lesson, and had our fingers burned once too often. There's a feeling that for once, if we only keep our heads and not drive around with flags sticking out of our cars like some ugly rally, then some good might come of it. We've got to try something different, anyhow.

It'll be Winter
For once, it'll be hotter here than at the World Cup, so we can be spared the excrutiating excuses that we had in the Sahara Desert (sorry, Germany) about how it was too hot, and we 'wilted'. This time, it's the Brazilians turn to moan about how its too cold. Admittedly, I don't like the idea of the World Cup in Winter myself. It sounds like we won't be able to hear ourselves think, everyone's apparently not going to come back alive, and the cold's going to ruin everything. But again, the fact that there's something different about this World Cup surely can only work in our advantage? Perhaps we should give up playing in the World Cups that get played in normal places in normal climates, and only play the slightly quirky ones that we think might give us a hand. It's the 'do the opposite to what you'd expect' philosophy, as I like to call it.

The others aren't that impressive
When the other countries aren't bribing referees (sorry, Lord Triesman's words), they're not actually that impressive. The Dutch will play well in the group stages and bottle it, the Brazilians won't cope with the weather, and one of the Spanish backroom staff will probably commit an act of racism that causes them to fall apart. Which leaves the Germans, who I will now proceed to underestimate, and describe as 'too ordinary', because that always works, right?

We're crap
We were very good in 2006. We were good in 2002. Now we've got Leighton Baines as a reserve left-back, and most of our players are over-the-hill, no-one can ever describe us as anything more than ordinary. But then how many World Cup winning sides have been ordinary? Who tipped the Italians last time? Who tipped Greece in 2004? Who ever tips the Germans? So many excellent sides have been poor in World Cups, and so many seemingly poor sides have been excellent.

I'll be watching most of the World Cup in Germany or Poland, so I'll most likely never see any of the goals, or understand anything that's going on. I'll probably end up coming back from holiday thinking that England have won it. If I come back grinning like a fool with a flag of St George draped across my chest, while the rest of the country is in mourning, please don't awake me from my joyful slumber.