World cup fever is upon us and the one thing I can guarantee is that by July 11th there will be 31 bitterly disappointed countries and one ecstatically pleased country. That is the nature of sport. There is only one winner. And if England were not taking part I could be a dispassionate observer and just enjoy the football for what it is. Unfortunately England are in South Africa and now the success or failure of the competition is purely based on how well England perform. Let us hope that this time round, if we reach the knockout stages, we either win or lose convincingly so that we have no recourse to penalties. But let it happen in at least the semi finals!

I took part in a world cup competition of sorts once you know. Well, at least a European Championship. Way back in 1987, I was on a short backpacking trip to France. The goal (if you'll pardon the pun) was to reach Paris in time for the 200th celebration of Bastille Day. Usually considered to be the start of the French revolution when the infamous Bastille Prison was stormed for reason's I cannot and care not to recall. But as a means to an end it was perfect. A chance to role around France with a sort of purpose with a bunch of mates.

Looking back over the mists of time it certainly had the potential to be a sort of hands across the sea, youth of a nation reaching out to a youth of the nation. I met many different nationalities which might have led to a network of multi ethnic bonds that could have helped towards greater understanding and cooperation. Unfortunately blokes being blokes we didn't exchange details or bother to keep in touch. I barely talk to the 2 individuals I travelled with, let alone anyone else, but that dates back to a problem with my ex wife.

Anyway, back in France 1987 a small impromptu footy game ensued on a beach in a town called St. Malo. I have tried to consult my archive as to the reason for the match but i don't seem to have one, an archive that is. I will have to rely on a rather patchwork memory bank that may be held together with false hope and invention. Still dusty as those shelves are I shall proceed.

Myself and my two companions (Matt and Steve) had landed at the local youth hostel. There were a few problems with the booking as our French was not as it should be. Well mine was non existent and as an average that dragged the group down a notch from competent to "not as it should be!". We were accepted though as they had rooms free so all was well. We spent the day at leisure around St Malo doing touristy stuff but there was a rumour of a game of footy on the beach in the evening. As Englishmen and, by virtue of nationality, inventors of Association Football, we deemed it our duty to show the rest of the world that it was in our genes.

I am afraid the team selection process eludes my poor recall. We had enough bodies for 2 teams and jumpers for goal posts. I am not sure we had any kind of ethnic divide but I have a sneaking suspicion that it was akin to an allied/axis split. I freely admit that this may just be my jingoistic instincts at work however. The game was a good one and I think I acquitted my self well (jingoistic memory alert!!)However I do recall with great clarity a moment when I had a one on one situation with an opposition team player I considered to be a German. As I said earlier my archive fails me but what does remain in my memory was the ethical dilemma that this one on one left me in. This "German" had wronged me earlier in the game to such an extent that when I was given the means to exact my revenge (large damp leather ball)I had only moments to decide as to whether I went for goal or for revenge. It of course took me only nano seconds to decide of course. We were losing and I could have evened the score. So naturally I went for revenge and I hoofed the ball as hard as I could at this personage. As he was expecting a cheeky chip or side foot he opened up and instead received a rocket around his wedding tackle. Ah! Revenge is a dish best served cold.
There was some kind of disco at the youth hostel that night and as one of the few people there with a steady job iIstood all the participants of the "beach world cup" a beer.