When England's first touch of the World Cup ball finally arrived, a surge of adrenaline must have gushed through every fan basking in the sunshine at the Marseille stadium.

Though only spectators, their own achievement had been substantial.

For starters, they were the canny few who had somehow managed the superhuman feat of laying their hands on an elusive match ticket.

Then they had dodged bottles, bricks and potential brain injury in the lively jamboree of rioters and riot police outside the Stade Velodrome, where England beat Tunisia 2-0 yesterday.

But perhaps most impressive of all - particularly for those nursing the effects of a boozy night - they had avoided the dreaded sickness epidemic afflicting soccer fans everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except inside the stadium.

As kick-off loomed, the "90-minute bug" swept Britain, with workers dropping like ninepins.

My friend Pete even told me on his mobile phone that he was at the doctor's surgery. He began describing in somewhat unwelcome detail the sort of things that were happening to his bowels.

OK, so he might have been there after all, and I certainly couldn't hear a pub crowd in the background, but that's not the point.

It shouldn't be necessary in the first place. The real message to bosses ought to be - if you can't beat them, join them.

Let's have a national holiday on every day England play, just for the hell of it.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.