Blog: Juliet | This is Me
9. July 2026

Why England's World Cup journey matters so much

If you're reading this from anywhere other than England, you may wonder why we make such a fuss about football.

After all, it's only a game.

Well... yes and no.

I've lived in Canada for many years, and I love it, but ask my family or friends and they will tell you - in my heart I am forever English. It's just the way I am built. Whenever England are playing in a major competition, I suddenly become fixated. This World Cup even more so. Some might say I become pathologically patriotic. I find myself obsessing about the games; planning meals, sleep, outfits, anything really, around the match, and becoming convinced that if I sit in exactly the right place on the sofa, I might somehow influence the result. Actually, that's not true - at the last game (Eng v Mexico) there was no sitting for me. I paced around for the whole game. I clocked up 9,000 steps, so that was a bonus.

The thing is, for me, supporting England isn't really about football.

It's about home.

It's about hearing Three Lions and being transported back to my childhood. It's remembering summers when the whole country seemed to stop for ninety minutes. It's families gathered around televisions, pubs spilling onto pavements, it's about everyone singing the songs we all know and love, and complete strangers celebrating together as though they've known each other for years.

Living abroad gives you a funny relationship with your homeland. Most days, Canada is home. My life is here. My family is here. But every now and then, something unexpected tugs at your heart and reminds you where your story began.

For me, football does that.

So does rugby, of course. Ours is a rugby family, and sport has always been more than scores and trophies. It's been about friendships, belonging, road trips, and the people who become family along the way.

The World Cup simply magnifies those feelings.

My football memories go back to going to games with my sister and Grandad to watch Brighton and Hove Albion at the old Goldstone ground; queuing all night for tickets to see them play Man Utd at Wembley in the FA Cup final in 1983; following their epic journey to the premiership; as well as supporting England through their ups and downs.

Since the year we won the World Cup (and incidentally the year I was born) in 1966, England’s World Cup journey has been one long emotional rollercoaster of hope and heartbreak. There have been painful near misses, from losing to West Germany after being 2–0 up in 1970, to Maradona’s “Hand of God” in 1986, Gazza’s tears and penalties in 1990, Beckham’s red card in 1998, more penalty heartbreak in 2006, and Harry Kane’s missed penalty against France in 2022. We’ve had years when we didn’t even qualify, years when we dared to dream, and years when we wondered why we put ourselves through it. And yet, every tournament, we come back believing. That’s why “It’s coming home” matters so much. It isn’t arrogance; it’s sixty years of hope and refusing to give up.

And if there's one thing England fans are experts at (apart from our chants and our singing) it's hope. We convince ourselves that this could finally be the year. We analyse the squad, debate the manager's decisions, celebrate every goal like we are temporarily insane, and, occasionally question our life choices after a tense ninety minutes. And if penalties are involved (see above) - OK, I can't even think about it.

And yet, every four years, we come back believing all over again.

Some people laugh at that optimism. Most people don't get it. They don't understand our history, our hopes, our connection to each other through the Beautiful Game. Some people (pretty much every other nation in the world actually) laughs at our passion and hope. But that's OK - I am proud of the passion and hope we carry.

Every England World Cup campaign seems to awaken the same mixture of excitement, hope and nerves, no matter how many years have passed.

Will England win this year?

By the time you read this, you may already know the answer. Perhaps we'll be celebrating. Perhaps we'll be saying, "There's always next time." Again. Our next game is against Norway on Saturday. I would say I am feeling cautiously, nervously optimistic. That's what being English means to me. It's not just where I was born. It's part of who I am.

And if football really does come home this time, don't be surprised if you hear me cheering all the way from Canada.

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