My friends at the squash club and colleagues at work can’t understand it. ‘Traitor – off with his head’ they shout, ‘Send him to the Tower!’

And why? Well, generally, regardless of who gets picked and despite my Gooner loyalties, I support England. Especially in the World Cup. I can forget club affiliations for the obviously one hundred per cent committed Stevie G and even the talented but unloveable Rooney can look quite useful footballwise after a few beers. Whilst if you forget who he usually plays for, a jinking Aaron Lennon run can quite raise the spirits.

But this time it’s different. How can any self-respecting Gooner want an England squad that contains the hated Lumpard, the deservedly Cheryl-less Flashley, that distinctly unlovable Terry person, leadenfooted Ledley, Daniel De Foe and now Dawson as well, managed by a heartless so-and-so who left out ‘Our Theo’, to actually WIN the World Cup? Could we really face that bunch parading on an open-topped bus round Central London? An abomination compared with the ‘Boys of ‘66’, Jonny Wilkinson and even Freddie Flintoff. Then there’s Gareth Barry? And the Rio-crippling Emile Heskey? Need I say more? Even those fluttering red, white and blue bits of plastic on seemingly every other car don’t seem to help.

I guess it’s an understatement to say I may be in a bit of a minority – but I’d also bet deep down quite a few of you have similar feelings but can’t quite bring yourselves to admit them. Yet in the name of football, and in particular the style of football which Arsenal produce so mesmerizingly from time to time, I’ve found myself wanting the fantastic Lionel Messi – amazing talent, World Number One and four goal destroyer of Arsenal - to win the World Cup. That’s right – but say it quietly: Ar-gen-tina…

‘Think of the Falklands’ I hear you say! What about the ‘Hand of God’? ‘Gotcha!’? Fair comment. But that was all nearly 30 years ago. History.

But, you might ask, if not England, what about Holland with RVP, or Spain and Cesc Fabregas? But sadly Cesc is almost history too.

And at the current generally available odds of 13/2, even with Maradona in charge, Argentina seem a pretty good bet.

Am I just playing Devil’s Advocate? Maybe, maybe not. You decide…

Perhaps by Saturday night I’ll feel different – hanging out of my bedroom window, bottle of red wine in hand, drunkenly shouting “Inger-land, Inger-land, Inger-land”.

But don’t bet on it.