This might be my last World Cup

I’ve got my World Cup charts pinned up, the guides marked, all clichés underlined. ITV is set up on my computer for the first game. This year’s cup has coincided with me downsizing, moving my bedroom and my office from upstairs to downstairs for the first time in 64 years. I realised I won’t be able to manage getting upstairs for much longer; goodness, sometimes I am so sensible. But it means everything is in chaos. Turns out I have to watch ITV on my computer. All that money on Sky and TNT, and they are not showing any games. The bloody cheek.

I’ve also got lots of bottles of Marlborough New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, my favourite, ready for the next six weeks of sitting here watching games. I cracked open the first bottle for England’s warm-up game against New Zealand, the World Cup’s lowest-ranked team – a real test for England, as they are always rubbish and pathetic against lowly squads. I dread hearing the words “and now for an England friendly” just as I dread hearing “and now, ‘Thought for the Day’”.

The minnows sit back, park the bus, which totally confuses the England team, as if that has never happened before. They have all the possession but aimlessly fanny and faff around, square passing, no one showing any initiative. Until Harry Kane, anonymous so far, scores in the 45th minute. He wasn’t on in the second half, so we had to be content with his one goal. A brand new 11 came on after half time, which was a novelty, providing some interest. Who the hell is that? Oh God, where is my Wall Cup chart when I need it? Or have I had too much Sauvignon already?

It will get exciting soon, when a titchy country astounds the football world. Will it be Curaçao? That will thrill my neighbour Nori, who comes from there. She has lived in the UK for 54 years but is still so proud that her little island of just 155,000 people, rated 82 in the footballing world, had made the finals. She tells me that only one member of their World Cup squad was actually born on the island. The rest are Dutch, Curaçao being part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. But you knew that. Three of their squad play in England – not quite the Prem – for Rotherham, Sheffield United and Boro.

Today I met my actor friend Vas on Hampstead Heath. I saw him in the distance wearing what looked like a yellow football top. Aye aye, Vas, supporting Brazil are we? It turned out to be a Jamaica top, which made sense since that is where he was born. He said he is well jel that a little Caribbean island like Carriacou should be at the World Cup when big Caribbean islands such as Trinidad, Barbados and Jamaica, noted for being brilliant at sports, didn’t make it. Hold on, Vas. You are getting confused. It’s Curaçao, not Carriacou. Just shows you that Curaçao is hardly known even in the Caribbean.

Gawd, I hope they do well against Germany on 14 June. I’ll be cheering them on.

China and India didn’t make it either, and more surprisingly, nor has Italy. I have an Italian friend on my street, Alessandro, and he is getting well pissed off every time I ask him how Italy is doing.

One thing about it being the biggest ever World Cup, with 48 countries competing, is that lots of little ’uns have got in, which makes it more humiliating for the big ’uns who didn’t. It also brings in a wider range of fans, like my neighbour from Curaçao, with whom I have never discussed football before.

I imagine all over the TV-watching world are folks from little countries living in big countries who can suddenly puff out their chests.

But so many countries means so many games: 104 in all. How will I cope? I want to watch as many as possible. I might not be here for the next World Cup. And many are so late. My normal bedtime is 9pm, yet England’s group games don’t start till then. I think I will just have to live in my pyjamas until 19 July. And get in more Sauvignon…