So you just get settled into your nice, mid-season routine. The nights close in early, its cold and dark and so Sunday at 4 I go round to Lila’s to watch the football with her. Cuppa tea, wriggling Lila, Burnley vs Newcastle. Watford against Liverpool, Manchester City playing anyone. Who cares? Its football, its on tv, what more do you need? (baby: optional)

And then comes the hateful ‘international break’. No World Cup qualifiers for England this time, we’ve already qualified. So its bloody friendlies. Meaningless matches (unless you are Gareth Southgate) with no interest, no excitement and most of the players crying off injured. Which, where the Spurs players are concerned, is a good thing. The rest of the hurt-list are just wimps, but the Spurs players are resting their little niggles carefully so they can regain full fitness. In a much more heroic way than the rest. I’d rather they stayed home with some Bovril than risked getting their legs bitten by a German. Or even by a Brazilian.

Yet for some countries, this has been ‘World Cup’ weekend/plus. The playoff matches, the real do-or-dies to see who will join those at the top of their groups who’ve already qualified for next year’s finals. And it didn’t go ‘to plan’. Though logically it can’t ever. With (approximately) 50% of the teams involved being tragically disappointed.

None more so than Italy. The 4-time World Cup winners will not be gracing that stage next year, for the first tournament since 1958. Italy has gone into meltdown. It never takes much. But football over there is completely woven into their social fabric. Like pizza. But with less calories. Like the Catholic Church. Except more people care about football. So without that, all that’s left is bum-pinching. And seriously, how long can that go on in the current world climate???

The football heroes in Italy are all they have. They don’t have war heroes. Like normal countries. So Gianluca Buffon, their talismanic national captain and goalkeeper extraordinaire, has borne the weight of all the hero-worship of the entire nation since the last dagger went into Julius Caesar’s back 2000 years ago. Pretty much when Buffon started playing. But he’s retiring without that ‘last world cup’, which is indeed terrible for one of the game’s genuine superstars. In fact he’s so gorgeous I’d normally put his photo up today in honour. Unfortunately (for him) Lila is way more gorgeous, so, sorry Gianluca, this really ain’t your week. We’re all going to miss their 9-man defences and WWF style match-play.

In England we’re generally not as patriotic about football. To wit, last night I took far more pleasure from Christian Eriksen’s hat-trick against the poor Republic of Ireland than I did from England ‘brilliant'(??) nil nil draw against the Brazilians. Because Christian is ‘my boy’ who I love like the son I never had, and Jamie Vardy isn’t.

Ciao bene Wednesday

A xxxx