Nutters and bolters preparing to descend on World Cup

By CHRIS LAIDLAW

Watch out, soccer is on the rampage again. I speak here not of the Football Kingz, whose status appears to have been reduced to that of servile court jesters, but of the big stuff, the World Cup.

When it comes to football, whole nations go AWOL while the World Cup is in play. Government more or less stops, and so does business. Politicians and captains of industry are already discovering pressing obligations in Seoul or Tokyo in May and June.

This is certainly the right moment for a sneak coup d'etat in Greece or a stealthy revolution in Paraguay. Everyone else is at, or watching, the soccer.

Even al Qaeda, or what's left of it, will be watching the footy from their underground bunkers.

But let's talk about real foot soldiers, the revolutionary armies of supporters who are preparing for their customary foreign invasion.

The much-feared Tartan Army of Scotland, tanked up with single malt, will no doubt be there.

So, too, will a great expeditionary force of yobbos from England, thirsting for a confrontation with the locals or anyone else who gets in the way.

Their behaviour deteriorates as the England team steadily lose, a phenomenon which raises the question: why can't all be herded into Twickenham, where England now rarely lose, in order to keep them under control? If only.

They'll all be there - skinheads from Germany, psychotics from Serbia, and Basque bombers, along with various nutters and bolters from Latin America.

Some even have a mild interest in the football. Most will simply want to trash the place in the tradition of the Visigoths who, had they not run out of puff, would also have got to Asia.

It will be interesting to see how these scruffy marauders fare when faced with the Korean police. Now there's an outfit that relishes a street war every bit as much as the yobbos - and not one accustomed to exercising restraint when it comes to the heavy truncheon or the water cannon.

In the firm expectation of plenty of street stoush in Tokyo and Seoul, some inspired entrepreneur has already produced a video game in which participants can fight their own street wars against the police and other contingents of yobs.

This is expected to sell like hot cakes in the run-up to the tournament. It can either serve as a useful way of fine-tuning tactics by many of those preparing for the actual fray, or as a way of sublimating disappointment among all those who would love to take part in the trashing of an Asian city but, for one or other reason, can't quite make it in person.

Many of those who live near one of the stadiums, and who have an ounce of foresight, will flee to more tranquil parts to ride out the storm.

And at the end of it all, somebody whose income has just quadrupled will step up and receive the solid gold trophy from a bemused Asian prime minister who, like every one of his countrymen, by then will doubtless have had more than enough soccer to last a lifetime.