by NICK WEBSTER, FOXSports.com

Updated: September 4, 2001, 2:25 PM EST

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Never in the history of mankind has so much print and airspace been devoted to one man's groin. The late porn star, John Holmes, would've been tickled pink as the world's media, and an entire nation, have dissected, examined and analyzed the progress of David Beckham's strained nether region. One hack was heard to say, 'his groin has been under a microscope all week.' Naturally, Posh wasn't amused.

I love the smell of old beer, stale ciggies, and two hundred sweaty Englishmen at 9:00 in the morning. It reminds me . . . of victory. Well, not really, but following Sven and Co does entail some hardships.

For some time now the Cock & Bull pub in Santa Monica has been known as England HQ and rightly so. For the mere sum of twenty bucks you're transported back in time to the old pee-down-the-leg, elbow-in-the-face terraces of the 70's and 80's. It's brilliant.

And why are we here? England versus Germany, that's why. A 2002 World Cup Qualifier with everything on the line. How massive is this game to us? Its John Holmes massive. History has pitted our two nations together on a few notable occasions and without being too jingoistic, we'd love to stick it to 'em just this once (or twice, nah make it every time). Same goes for Scotland, Argentina, France, etc, etc.

The game doesn't kick off until 10.30 am on this side of the pond, but pre-match drinking is one of our finer traditions. I'm unsure why, but I think the alcohol dulls the pain of yet another totally inept performance and then gives us an excuse to indulge in a good old fashioned punch-up afterwards. I'm sure you're asking why. We're all English after all. Yeah right. Only if we win. Otherwise it's a case of you Manc #%##$#% or piss off you Cockney ##@@#$*.

Back to the pre-match drinking. Today, I've persuaded every Ipswich Town fan's favorite commentator, Christian Miles, to join me and experience the unique ambiance. (He was the Muppet who said Ipswich were going down last year.) Chris' job is to get the beers in. As the kick-off draws near, the atmosphere in the pub is like being at the stadium itself. Two hundred well-inebriated blokes shouting at each other about the impending game. Girls? Who's round is it? Don't be silly, Beckham's groin is once again the only topic of conversation.

Although it's SRO, the Cock & Bull has loads of tellies on, including a massive big screen, so there's not a bad view in the house as the lights are dimmed, and the game kicks off. I've only just got me third pint down my neck when Jancker drifts unmarked into the box and we're one-nil down in five minutes. Its all doom and gloom, as three Germans celebrate. (I know, Germans in the pub, but you had to see the size of this one guy!).

Not to worry, five minutes later normal service has been resumed thanks to the 'Boy Wonder' and the 'Ingerland' chants begin in earnest. The rest of the half is heart-stopping stuff with Deisler missing a chance my granny could've put away, and she's in a wheel chair. All around us, everyone has forgotten about Becks' groin. We'd take a tie at the interval, when up pops Stevie G and, to coin an Americanism, 'BLASTS' the ball into the net. Two-one England and the roof comes off the pub.

Outside the boozer it's half-time and two hundred people are milling around chain smoking, praying that we can hang on to our slim one goal lead. Back inside for the second half, we haven't even got the beers in before the 'Boy Wonder' does it again. Three-one England. The rout is on and the singing and chanting doesn't stop, it's electrifying. Owen duly completes his hat-trick and Heskey supplies the coup de grace. Five-one England, in Munich.

The greatest day in my tortured life of watching England.

Having finally returned to earth after two days of heavenly joy, Nick Webster can be reached at nwebster@foxsportsworld.com.