Lots of work, the splendid weather and great party atmosphere in the town that Saviour Balzan thinks is too boring and grey, has kept me away from the keyboard. There's something intrinsically wasteful about cooping yourself up at home in front of a laptop when the cafes are bursting with life and the sunshine beckons. World Cup fever is alive and well in Brussels as you can expect from a town whose expat community is probably only second to London's multicultural (but very British) scene. Today's UK Independent (known for its original front pages) featured photos of 32 UK-based 'immigrants' from the 32 nations participating in this World Cup, surrounding the title 'England Expects'.

Tomorrow the real fun starts. I'll be travelling across the border to Hannover with colleague and mate Mauro to watch the ever-suffering azzurri take on tough tackling Ghana. I hope that the spirit of '82 propels them to great heights in spite of all the bad vibes they've had to endure following Juventopoli. But the story of how I managed to get the ticket for the game is unbelievably intimately connected to Luciano Moggi and involves a particularly disgruntled Juve-supporting dad. So in many ways I should be thanking Lucianone. Every cloud has a silver lining.

Bring on the face paint!

FORZA AZZURRI!