GREAT ... I MEAN OH GREAAT THE WORLD CUP!

So another qualification journey has ended causing heart ache for many, elation for a few and a downright sense of loathing from the rest.

Yes the world cup is one of the highlights of the football calender, the Holy Grail of national pride and showcase for the world's best talent.

Every four years that illogical sense of optimism and refreshes itself like a new weekend after that four day hangover. We can win it this time... Its coming home and all that stuff.

And winning it we can this time for sure with a fully fit first XI and a world class coach, why not? If we do manage that glorious feat the streets will be full of nurses kissing AWOL serviceman and that wave of patriotism that accompanies such occasions will well and truly be in full flow.

But lets just take a step back from reality for a moment and look at what the World Cup means for the rest of the world's nations.

In the qualifying rounds, it is humiliating at best for footballing's minnows. Luxembourg's goals against tally must look like my Barclay's student bank account ten years ago and their players can hardly look forward to such occasions.

The play-offs yet again broke millions of hearts as some favourites failed to make it through, some underdogs pulled it out of the bag and some just plain old CHEATED to crawl their bloated and arrogant nation's undeserved bodies over the finish line. C'est la vie!

And it is great to see Spartan Greece pull off a shock win in Kiev reducing Sheva to tears(actually I felt sorry for him) and them beat Portugal twice after what they did to us to lift the Euro. Yet for every fairy tale there is a despicable piece of foul play that leaves the bitterest taste in the mouth of the recipients.

I'm not just talking about Mr Va Va Voom's handball, denying the brave Southern Irish a fair crack at reaching the world cup. Even if it was despicable and Platini should look into his Fair Play mirror and expel them from the tournament. What are the chances of that though?

Since 1966, England alone can cringe back at a myriad of heart break and unforgettable disappointment. Think Charlton replaced by Colin Bell and cue the Franz Beckenbaur show in 1970.

Think cheating South American hobbit on steroids, mix in some white powder and a hand with no remorse and then add it to a world cup semi final and you have 1986.

Think 1990 and even Euro 96 and you have penalty shoot-outs ripping the heart and sole out of an entire nation's hopes and a rekindled hate for all that is German in the world.

1966 itself was controversial for everyone except us as we won the damn thing. A ball that didn't cross the line must have been the decision that put the Krauts off their beer and Frankfurters for another four years at least. Maybe it was the catalyst to them wanting to beat so much over then next twenty years.

Of course this tournament is not just about England for every Brazil their is and El Salvador and for every Pele there's a Escobar.

The qualifying campaign for the 1970 world cup between El Salvador and Honduras, settled by a ridiculous penalty, caused so much grief between the two countries that they actually went to war over the game(amongst other reasons). Now going to war to gain Middle Eastern resources might not be the noblest of causes, bit that is just wrong. It is another example of how football effects national pride though.

Everyone over the age of twenty will remember the name Andres Escobar who was infamously gunned down in his native Columbia after committing the cardinal sin of scoring an own goal at the 1994 finals. Bad losers to say the least? Well one things for sure, these are not the principals the world cup was founded on.

So let's just hope its England that will be lifting the Jules Rimet come next summer as if it isn't, there are sixty five million plus English that are going to be face down in a bar or pub crying into the night around the world. Even worse we might just be going to war with the Germans again if history repeats itself.

I'd much prefer to have a go at the French and show the Paddies that we do care more for them (more than the Frogs anyway) And you never know maybe that most bloated of frogs Platini will be caught up in the cross fire killing two birds with one stone. I'm sure many wouldn't be complaining if that happened.