KEY POINTS:
It seems to have tip-toed up on us, and there's a good reason for that. The European soccer championships - Euro 2008 if you're in the know - started in Basel yesterday minus a single British or Irish team among the 16 who aim to be in Vienna for the June 29 final.
But you suspect not many are actually missing the English, apart from their hardcore supporters, dismayed at missing the chance for another quarter-final exit, preferably by the penalty shoot-out route.
Austria and Switzerland are hosting the show, neither of whom have the remotest hope of victory. Actually, hold that thought. Four years ago no one gave a carafe of ouzo for Greece's chances in Portugal, yet they cleaned out the hosts on a steamy night in Lisbon.
There have been outcomes to delight the neutrals. Go back 16 years. Denmark's coach was redecorating his kitchen and their best footballers were living it up at the beach when they got a surprise call: "Grab your boots lads, we're off to Sweden."
Yugoslavia had been given the red card due to the outbreak of civil war. Denmark stepped in and beat the Germans 2-0 in the final: 10-out-of-10 on the gobsmacking scale.
Things kicked off yesterday with an opening ceremony complete with alpine horns, women dressed like Heidi (albeit a few years older), cut-out cows on stilts and a few hundred people running about with square boxes on their heads.
There were rows of sombre men in suits in the expensive seats. Sepp Blatter, Swiss boss of Fifa, and Michel Platini, once the silky French midfield maestro now boss of UEFA, wore faces of stone. It seems an unwritten rule that the bigwigs must look bored.
Presumably it was supposed to be a festive atmosphere hinting at the on-field delights that lie ahead, but it was lost on the suits.
The Switzerland-Czech Republic game was average. The Swiss gave it a lash, hit the woodwork, should have had a penalty, but were essentially ordinary, and the limited Czechs won it with a shin kick.
Portugal vs Turkey and the early candidate for the "He Said What?" commentary award came at the kick off: "It's one of the stages where mere humans can become immortal." Yeees.
The Portuguese, classy contenders again, were well worth their 2-0 win. Think what you like about Christiano Ronaldo but he can play.
Now he's confirmed he wants to up sticks and go to Real Madrid - where they've said they'll pay him £200,000 ($513,742) a week - so that should count out de facto Manchester United support for Portugal.
Poor Ronaldo sounds like soccer's equivalent of Sonny Bill Williams. He wants to be loved, and fatten his pay cheque. You can't blame him really. After all, the £120,000 a week he's got at Man U just isn't what it used to be.
Who to support? For the serious, form guide-perusing sorts, the usual suspects will be about at the end. There is, after all, a reason why they are the usual suspects. Cue Germany, Italy, France. Stick a tenner on the Italians.
