England is in grips of an insane football madness in the lead up to the World Cup which starts this Friday over in Germany. Just as every tourney, England think they have a chance to win. More than a chance, really. That they are going to win it. No doubt about it. No questions asked. This is the team. This is the year. I'm afraid it's all part of a national optimistic delusion that takes hold of this country every 4 years.

The country is obsessed. Flags are everywhere. In windows. On pub doorways. On cars. Ubiquitous Merchandise exhorts the faithful to cheer on "their boys". The newspaper is rampant speculating on everyhing from the state of striker Wayne Rooney's broken foot (the headline in the paper today was "Metatarsal Miracle") to the strange and sordid sex life of soon to be departed Swedish coach Sven Goran Eriksson.

The problem is, while England invented the sport and are quite good at it, they are not the best. Not even by a long shot. That honor, without doubt, goes to Brazil. If Brazil occupy the top tier alone, England falls somewhere in the second grouping along Holland, Spain, Germany, Argentina and the Czech Republic. On top of that England perpertually underacheive, find some way to lose close games or games they should win, and disappoint the populace.

With hopes running so high, I fear that if England put on their typical performance and fall short of expecations, the entire country will fall into a desparate malaise, for which the only answer is, as my buddy John says, to pass out the anti-depressants now. At least it would be proactive.