Football loyalty is a funny thing.

The first World Cup I can remember watching was in 1994 when the US hosted it.  Our downstairs neighbour had stolen cable from the dilapidated house next door and we had caught him, which resulted in us getting cable to our apartment, too which allowed us to watch the World Cup.  I can’t remember us even being too excited about the US team.  We had a tiered assortment of Latin American teams that we gave our loyalty to.   The cable didn’t quite make it through the final (if I remember correctly).  I had to work but I watched the last bit of the final in a house packed full of illegal immigrants all pulling for Brazil.

England wasn’t on my radar.  And didn’t qualify anyway.  Bad luck.

But I arrived in England in the summer of 1996.  I remember chatting with cabbie who was shocked, shocked, shocked when I said “What is this Euro96 thing?”   England was hosting the European tournament, that single-continent stop gap between World Cups.  There was a fabulous, festive atmosphere.  And then I went to Scotland.  In the semi-final England was playing Germany.  Old rivals. WWII animosity still fanning the flames.  And as my-then-boyfriend-now-husband and I walked on the streets of Edinburgh we could hear the cheers rising every time Germany scored.  I was shocked.  I mean as a Tennessee Vol, I hate Alabama, but I was glad they won they National Championship this year. It reflects well on the SEC, our football conference.

But the Scots aren’t like that.

We thought about watching the final in a bar, but I didn’t think I could stand it.  So watched in his parents’ house during the cringe-making, horrifying penalty shoot-out.  And then the gleeful schadenfreude on the streets of Scotland.  And that is when I became an England supporter.

As an ex-pat, I probably am more supportive of Team USA than I otherwise would have been.  I definitely hope they do well.  As I’ve watched successive World Cups over the years, I’ve always pulled for the US, watching or listening to games.  When England got knocked out in the quarter-finals in 2002, I was distraught – but the American game followed (another loss) and I was disappointed.   And I prayed that they’d never meet.

But this year, the draw has led to the opening match as England v USA.  It’s not actually a difficult call for me.   I feel bad that it isn’t a hard decision.  But it’s England.  C’mon England.

I’m just glad that it’s the opening match, the game that doesn’t really matter that much as teams try to accrue points to leave the group stages.  Two teams can go on to the knock-out stages.  A loss isn’t terminal.  A tie still gives you a point. Victory is better.

What I’m really hoping for is an England win, but I have to admit that I don’t want it to be easy.  I want it to be close – a narrowly achieved mark in the W column.  (And please, please, please no injuries).  And I want England to leave the group with the most points and for the US to also go to the knockout stages only to meet again in the final.

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I don’t support England at everything, mind.  When the Olympics roll around in 2012 and are hosted in London, the city I call home, it’ll be USA all the way.  Those golds are ours, baby.