SO . . . it is 2pm tomorrow and you are sitting at home or in the pub in front of the telly wearing your lucky pants, in your lucky seat, holding your rabbit's foot and having eaten exactly the right food which means that England will win the World Cup.

No, you're not actually playing in it.

But, watching something as important as England's opening game against Paraguay, you know for a fact that if you do not go through all your vital rituals and superstitions, obviously the team has no hope of victory in this important Group B match.

And while it would normally be quite reasonable to worry about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder at this point, the truth is that sport and especially big sporting occasions like the World Cup are riddled with superstitions.

To make you feel better about those pants or that too-tight top you wore when England beat Argentina in the group stages of the 2002 World Cup, it's worth reflecting on what the players themselves do in advance of such occasions.

It's a miracle, for example, that Chelsea captain and England defender John Terry has the energy left to kick a ball when you learn what his pre-match routine entails.

After parking his car in the same spot each time in the club's underground car-park, he has to sit on the same seat on the team coach, have three sips of water (never four) on the journey, eat three bananas and listen to the same Usher CD.

He always wears his lucky 10-year-old shin pads and had a nightmare, losing game during one of Chelsea's Champions League matches last season when he lost them and tie his tapes three times in the same way.

But Terry sounds positively sane when you consider this statement by Adrian Mutu of Juventus and Romania: "Curses cannot touch me because I wear my underwear inside out."

Not sure what is the most worrying part of this one the genuine concern about curses or too much information on his under-garments.

England's Rio Ferdinand always pours water down his face in the tunnel before a match, and jumps when he steps over the white line.

And whether Wayne Rooney plays or not, he will not be touching the World Cup unless England win it, because he believes that only the winners should lay their hands on it.

Spain's star striker, Raul, was berated by coach Luis Aragones only recently for turning up at training sporting a yellow t-shirt because it might bring the team bad luck. And even Brazil, the most successful team in the World Cup's history, have their superstitions.

Mario Zagallo, far from being worried about being No.13, insisted on the number on his shirt "because of my wife she is devoted to St Anthony of 13 July." Superstition and religion, very powerful voodoo.Perhaps it works. Italy's Giovanni Trapattoni in the 1986 World Cup was often seen sprinkling holy water given to him by his sister, a nun.

And, forget the form book, France's coach Raymond Domenech admits that he takes players' star signs into consideration before selecting his team.

Odd lot, the French. In the 1998 competition, Lauren Blanc would, as a matter of course, kiss the bald crown of eccentric, talismanic goalkeeper Fabien Barthez before the kick-off of each of France's matches. Even when he was sidelined for the final for a misdemeanour in the semi-final, he made a point of kissing the shiny crown before the match which gave the World Cup to France.

This time around, it is plainly vital that lucky pants, amulets, rings and rituals are employed by the millions watching the game at home or in the pub. In fact, a new survey says that 59 per cent of superstitious supporters will be wearing a lucky item of clothing.

And, of course, timing of toilet breaks could prove pivotal no, not for you, for the team. Just under half of all those asked said they take two trips to the loo, tactically timing them to ensure a victory.

By teatime tomorrow, we will know whether this all worms, sorry, works I just typed that with my left hand only, while chanting "England 2 Paraguay 0" four times. Well, you just can't take the risk, can you?