The World Cup Story

I've just watched Belgium knock out Brazil, another utterly thrilling, breathtaking game in this amazing World Cup. The narrative builds further.

I've been out on the moor again, spending a lot of time thinking about the football, not so much about the outcome of the England v Sweden game tomorrow but the question of why I care so much. This depth of feeling has taken me by surprise. I'm not particularly patriotic. In the recent one-day cricket series, I relished our whitewash of Australia but I actually took pleasure from Pakistan's test win over us at the beginning of the season, and last summer I found myself willing on the West Indies against us. For me, it's all about the story and sometimes other countries have better ones than our own, overriding normal tribal loyalties. But not in this compelling World Cup. Story and loyalty coincide.

Gareth Southgate talks about his players writing their own stories through their football. As the manager, he's certainly writing his. He's talking the right language. With every media appearance, his stock rises as an intelligent, articulate, humble man, the very antithesis of what we've come to expect from a football manager. It's not hard to believe that the man and the moment are on sweetly aligned trajectories. Destiny awaits. In view of recent wider political events, an England v Russia semi-final and an England v France or Belgium final is almost too delicious a prospect for the universe to turn down!

In the final analysis, at the very pinnacle of competition, sport is about belief as much as skill and luck. There is a genuine belief in this English football team. I'm sure the Swedish have belief in their team too. And the Russians. And the French and Belgians. Yet, there is something about this English belief that is special, perhaps because it is so rare. A lot of things have to come together for us English to believe. It doesn't come naturally.

The World Cup is our planet's biggest story and its greatest sporting spectacle. It's written in a language that can be understood by anyone in any country, whatever its culture. As the divide between the bigger and smaller nations has reduced, so the drama has increased. The introduction of VAR has spawned all kinds of fascinating sub-plots. There have been so many surprises and wonderful tales of the unexpected.

We care so much because we have a role in this story and the longer our participation, the greater the emotional investment that’s made. In this edition, we're lucky enough to be playing a major role, not just our usual bit-part. We're playing a leading role in the greatest story of them all, close to having one of the starring roles. It's no wonder then that I'm feeling passionate about this upcoming match, and feel sorry for anyone who isn't. The touch on the ball of a goalkeeper's glove or the slightest deflection from a defender's leg can either raise up thirty million people on a wave of euphoria or plunge them down into the deepest depths of despair.

That vast emotional potential difference is present to every key moment of every match now, especially in the taking of those terrifying penalties, when man is pitted directly against man, striker against keeper, each trying to hold on to their belief, each desperate for their personal story to prevail, to be the hero not the villain in the plot. Now, that's pressure. Unimaginable pressure. And we feel it and take it upon ourselves. It makes us feel alive. It's the ultimate shared experience. It's making the whole country feel alive. Bring it on. This is our narrative. Let's own it.

Kind of had to get that off my chest!