By DAVID LEGGATT
My first hazy memories of soccer's World Cup were the goals in the 1966 final.
England 4 Germany 2 at Wembley, Geoff Hurst a hat-trick, renowned commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme's memorable line: "They think it's all over - it is now!" as spectators started to run on to the field, moments before Hurst's final goal.
As we build up to the 17th edition of the planet's biggest single sports event, it is curious how the closet fans have come out of the closet.
I was talking to a chap the other night. Rugby man to his toes. In his blood, you might say.
Would he spend much time on the couch over the next month watching "the other game?"
"Too right. I always watch top-class soccer," he said. In other words, he hasn't made it to a Football Kingz game yet.
Cue the remark of a fellow journalist of the non-sporting variety. An eminently sensible fellow, business-like if you will. Turns out he has passionately followed the fortunes of AC Milan for many years.
When Zinedine Zidane led France to victory over Brazil in Paris in the final on that memorable night four years ago, a group of people with no interest in soccer were gathered, enthralled, around a television set in this office.
So what is it about the World Cup that makes otherwise normal people start discussing the finer points of 4-3-3, offside traps, David Beckham's foot, Ronaldo's teeth and bald-headed Italian referees?
You certainly don't have people taking a week off work to hunker down and watch the rugby World Cup. Nor the cricket version, and certainly not the bloated Olympic Games.
I suspect it's because soccer is the simplest of the big sports to understand - athletics, running that is, and swimming excepted. It's not rocket science.
There are no intricacies to match the ruck and maul. It is not dogged by the peculiar language of cricket or golf - no tickling to fine leg, or birdies and bogeys here.
Soccer's biggest personalities tend to transcend the mere kicking of a ball. Names such as Pele, Diego Maradona, Zidane and Beckham. In his heyday, and for some years after, Pele was second only to Muhammad Ali for worldwide recognition beyond the boundaries of sport.
If he was the greatest of all - and for compelling proof get a copy of the 1970 World Cup, won by the Pele-inspired Brazil with football from heaven - Maradona was perhaps the most gifted. No player has come closer to single-handedly winning a World Cup as he did for Argentina in 1986.
Zidane is the modern pin-up - if that is the right term for a retiring, balding midfielder of average, far from distinctive looks. Beckham is slightly different. Brilliant at freekicks, smart crosser, but as the all-round package? No. But he does have a Posh wife with whom he shares a bizarre life in a permanent glare of publicity.
For the first time, the World Cup is in perfect time for New Zealand audiences. This is not usually a high priority for Fifa when deciding who should host the four-yearly show. I know of at least one household where the battle for the remote - soccer, movies or Cartoon Network, well, the early evening games anyway - will be vigorous.
So strap in for a month-long sit-in in front of the square box. Employers get ready for a rash of excuses for late arrivals.
Who will win? The beauty of this World Cup - unlike the oval ball one next year where no more than five teams can possibly win it - is the openness of the field.
Argentina, France or Italy are the strongest tips. Portugal are at the peak of their powers. Brazil are not, but will be awkward. If an outsider is your preference, try the richly- talented African champions Cameroon.
Oh, all right. In a word, um, France.
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<i>Off the ball:</i> Why cup soccer appeals to most
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