warning! can cause permanent hearing damage and world cup heartache

world cup review >> england

while watching the make or break world cup nail biter between england and slovenia yesterday i experienced something for the first time during this tournament that i hadn't previously felt, joy. this was in part because of the win and the emergence of my favourite non-wolves player joe cole finally coming off the bench, but it was more down to the surprisingly clear head i was experiencing. this was not down to a lack of alcopops, no, this was because i heard something i hadn't heard for weeks in a football match... singing! ok, singing is not the right word to describe the vocal talents of a gang of fat naked bald men, let’s call it chanting! oh my god, i could actually hear the cries of our drunken brits abroad above those BLOODY VUVUZELAS! i could make out the drums and trumpets of our touring barmy army and i could hear our LOYAL support (fuck off rooney) passionately belting out our (just the right length) national anthem! amazing! my tv for the first time wasn’t on mute (it also helped that the game was on bbc rather than itv) because finally the headache-inducing swarm of a wasp hum was swatted by our lion's roar.

the england fans literally sang us into the next round. they are the twelfth man so many other countries crave, but we shouldn't need them. on paper we have some of the best players in the world (shame they have to play on grass then), but there are nations out there who really do need a 'twelfth man' - none more so than the host nation south africa. when south africa were effectively knocked out of the world cup in only their second game losing 3-0 to the fantastic forlan and his uruguain chums, i'm sure the south african players would have been boosted after going behind, by some patriotic chanting and encouragement rather than the ear drum-aching hooting and tooting from a plastic tube. maybe i'm missing the point that these are a symbol of south african history and culture, but this is modern day football and the encouraging swear word-filled songs give the players the confidence and kick up the backside that is sometimes lacking on a football pitch.

so come sunday when those of our boys who can't take their premier league form onto an international stage (fat frank) face those bloody kuntz, we'll once again need to be that twelfth man. let’s sing and swear our hearts out, and for gaaawd’s sake (and my ears’ health) leave the vuvuzella at home.

"fucking come on england!"