With the beginning of the World Cup near, I wondered…why am I so excited? This post tackles why it’s always a momentous occasion in my calendar.

Where it started

I’ve been a football fan my whole life. Before I was consumed by computers and the internet, this sport represented the simplest way to keep me entertained, you only had to give me a ball or put a game on TV and I’d be content. If none of the above were available, I’d entertain myself by drawing my favourite players or painting new kits onto my footballer big heads.

Like a lot of kids growing up, I wanted to be a professional footballer. Most evenings I would play on the green in front of my house, imitating the signature skills of my favourite players. My little brother would often bare the brunt of being in goal, but he was so good! At least, that’s what I’d tell him to keep him between the sticks for a little longer, just so I could strike another shot from some unachievable distance! My weekends were spent trying to realise my dreams by playing for a team in the junior football leagues, training in all weathers and playing in 11-a-side and 6-a-side tournaments.

As a boy, the prospect of the World Cup was all too exciting and the end of the school year could never arrive quickly enough. Every lunchtime would consist of World Cup doubles, you’d choose your desired team and which player you wished to be. The recent ‘Nike Football: Winner Stays’ reminded me of this. Football shirts, sticker books and wall charts would follow — I’d be ready to support my country through the good times and inevitably the bad and God damn, I would know my stuff.

A nation united

Every four years, World Cup fever sweeps the nation. Hosted in some far away land with hopes and dreams of a nation resting on the shoulders of the chosen ones. Our boys are always well supported back home with most cities turning into a sea of red and white. English flags appear everywhere, on the front of houses, in pubs and even on car roofs and bonnets. The ultimate show of a true England fan being the vibrant painted face with the broad grin spreading beneath it! The mood is infectious and a sense of unity overcomes a nation. If only St Georges’ day would command this sort of patriotism.

I’ve been on this planet for seven World Cups now, I think. England have been in six of them and much to my disappointment, haven’t won that elusive trophy since 1966. At nearly 30 years old, I’m still consumed by the same feelings that I felt when I was 6, 10, 14, 18, 22 and 26 (I would of included Mexico ‘86 but I was only the delicate age of 2).

These feelings come in the form of excitement, patriotism, competitiveness and optimism — they consume me. Perhaps with age I’m now a little more realistic about England’s chances, my optimism is worn on my shirt sleeve for the world to see and equally my disappointment when England fail to live up to expectation.

There really is nothing quite like the World Cup, it brings out unique qualities and lowers boundaries between people — we all have that same national identity. I’ve been in jobs where work stops to watch that crucial England game. I’ve been arm in arm with family, friends and complete strangers when David Batty stepped up to take that last penalty against Argentina. For each game, a nation stops, tumble weed rolls down the high streets and all eyes are on that screen hoping England can do the unachievable.

I love the way car horns sound everywhere when we win or the way grown men cry when we lose. The elation, the despair, it’s all part of supporting your country and that’s what makes the World Cup so special.

World Cup dreams

In 2010, I fulfilled a dream and went to the World Cup in South Africa. I saved for years and took a gamble on buying tickets for two games that at the time, hadn’t even been drawn.

I bought two plane tickets and off I went with my old man. We ended up seeing Nigeria play South Korea and Yukubu, Nigeria’s striker missed that open goal. We were lucky enough to experience the magic of the World Cup in the fan zones on the beach and in the buzzing stadiums (Vuvuzella’s) where deafness prevailed. The atmosphere created by 32 nations coming together was electric and it was fascinating to observe each country go through that very same roller coaster of emotions.