England on display on Oxford Street, London.

Here in London, there is no mistaking that the start of the World Cup is just a week away. Plastic sheets stuck to car windows fly the cross of St. George, England’s flag, and everywhere you look there are ads referring to the World Cup, England, David Beckham, or something else to do with soccer. I’ve even seen some birthday cards with photos of the team on the front and a special message inside: “The England team and _____________ wish you a happy birthday.”

What no one wants to talk about, though, are England’s chances to win the tournament. It’s not that they don’t want to win it or even that they don’t think they can win it. It’s a little bit more complicated than that.

Some of you may know the type of fan who is sure that their activities have a direct influence on a team’s results. I know someone who took the same route to every Earthquakes game in 2005 and skipped every tailgate just so she wouldn’t jinx the team. (Yes, she skipped every tailgate. The truly obsessed have no qualms about personal sacrifice when it’s perceived to be for the good of the team.)

Well, as nearly as I can tell, everyone in England is this way. They just don’t want to talk about the very real possibility that they could win the World Cup this year. They may mutter that Wayne Rooney’s broken foot is a tough blow, and express hope that he might return, but I’ve met no one who has said, “We want to win the World Cup and this year, we think we can do it.”

It’s a delicate situation. The term “40 years of pain” has been used by several media outlets here to describe the period between this year’s tournament and England’s sole World Cup victory in 1966. It’s a case of once bitten, twice shy, except that it’s more like, “10 times bitten, please don’t ask me about what happens next.” If I may mix my sports metaphors a bit here, they are Charlie Brown and the World Cup is Lucy, kneeling, asking them if they’d like to give the football a kick.

I spoke to someone in a pub last night (readers, please note my commitment to getting you this story) and he wouldn’t come right out and say that he thought England could win, either. Instead, he told me that he didn’t think it was fair that every other team faced three opponents in group play but England was in a group with four other teams. (Four other teams? Yes—Sweden, Paraguay, Trinidad, and Tobago. I did not please him by pointing out that there was another group with a similar problem. Holland, for example, has to deal with Argentina, the Ivory Coast, Serbia, and Montenegro.)

I tried to cheer him up, though, with my assessment of the tournament. “Look, Greece won Euro 2004,” I said. “The most skilled team will not necessarily win. All you need is a solid team that catches the wave at the right time and you can ride it all the way to the cup. England is talented enough to do that.”

That message seemed to get through to him but it made a bigger impression on me. As those words left my lips, I realized that it applied to most of the teams in the tournament, including the U.S. All you need is to win two of your first three and get hot enough to go on a four-game winning streak. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I think the U.S. will win the World Cup. Besides, I, uh, wouldn’t want to say anthing that might jinx them…