I confess to going to watch England's game against the USA yesterday with a swagger and a degree of arrogance.
Frankly when we are talking about England both are dangerous qualities that are likely to result in acute embarassment and leave one a mumbling, shuffling mess after 90 minutes.
Indeed I have lost count of the number of times I have been watching England in the opening match of a World Cup or European Championship game, only to feel the euphoria draining away as quickly as the beer in my glass.
This time the beer wasn't even cold, but at least they have Boddington's at the Pub in Hampton.
And they also had Brits, looking around and blinking in a confused manner in the half light, as if they had been roudned by the Brit Bus half an hour earlier.
OK they also have rather confused servers wearing kilts and the flag of St. George at The Pub.
All of which is a rather nice distraction from the match itself which can be added to the long litany of English disappointments.
Not that it seemed that way when Gerrard scored in the 4th minute. I joked to a colleague it would be 4-0 by the time I returned to the bar.
I had not reckoned on Robert Green and his now infamous green fingers. The rest is England history.
But at least if it calms all the usual fare in tabloids about how our lads are going to win it and Rooney is the new Pele, it's not all bad.
And let's not forget a poor looking Italian team drew with the USA four years ago and went on to win the World Cup.
I'm not holding my breath any more than Jules Rimet is still gleaming. But - who knows - it may be glittering darkly in some obscure place.