Most inconsiderate to have matches played during work-time. And not the best of days for a brief air-con breakdown: staying in shorts paid off. Chuckled at The Guardian's national stereotype ridden run-by-run (oops, wrong sport) text commentary as Japan went ahead, then winced as Australia -- the Sheilaroos -- got not one, not two, but a hat-trick of late goals.

Caught the final five mins of dreamteam USA being thrashed by the big and bouncing Czech Republic. Relied on reruns of all three goals. Wouldn't want to mess with the Hagridesque Koller, who banged in a rocket of a header before limping off. Then a thunderbolt from Rosicky, apparently now bound for Ashburton and Arsene, before he coolly slotted home his second. Some player.

Experimented with my digital red button -- technology is my friend -- to switch to commentary from Five Live. Thanks to Freeview, I was able to catch Jimmy Armfield referring to "what I call a physically strong side." See, those ex-pros have their own special language. Not.

And so to Ghana's debut WC game against the always interestingly coiffured Italy. Heck, their goalie had a golden kit and is named Buffon. Totti hobbled off to be replaced by Mio Pony Piccolo, Senor Camoranesi, flaunting his big girl's ponytail, admired by Middler who'd appeared and couldn't sleep. She had four inches lopped off at the weekend and was admiring Mauro's mane with envy.

I'd always take the Azzurri after Brazil, but I was willing the Black Stars forward. How was that not a penalty with 10 mins to go? Must mention Pimpong: great name, little else.

Much praise for the Ghanaian Michael Essien (obligatory Chelsea chap) on the pitch and for the surprisingly erudite and informative Marcel Desailly (ex-Chelsea) in the studio.