Oh she's football crazy, she's football mad.

With only one main road from Lahaina to the airport, you don't want to be on the Lahaina side of the road with a flight to catch when a brush fire kicks in. There was many a pouty traveller in such a predicament last week, as they had to close Honoapiilani Hwy due to the wind that kicked up the smoke, fanned the fire and encouraged it to jump across the road.

Meanwhile.....back in the cheap seats there were no problems with anyone getting to Danny, Ian and Scotties for the USA v England footie match. To say we were a sober crowd would be decidedly misleading. While I brewed the tea, the majority of punters cracked open the Newcastle Brown & Bud for the 8:30am start.

I admit it, I've got a touch of World Cup fever. If proof were needed and (like the sad little fan I am) knowing who was on the cover, today I purchased this months Vanity Fair mag. I rifled through the pile in the store until I found a perfect non manhandled copy and post purchase, sat in my truck like a smitten teenager devouring the cover (and what a cover it is) for waaaaaaaaay longer than necessary.

Ohhhhhhh HELLO, there's more! That lucky cow Annie Liebervitz......except I can't believe they included Muntari in the second double page spread. IMHO he's a dirty, mean player that I hope gets sold from Inter Milan so I don't have to watch him next season.

I shoulda been sailing.....but with an article that begins "Look, can we get this straight, right from the get-go, from the first whistle: It's football, O.K.? Football not soccer. It's never been soccer." What's a girl to do but scarf down every word?

Yes, yes I know & then go sail.....but I was pooped from my morning SUP sesh so went home for an old lady nap instead. So sad.

Of course the biggest game on the planet is a gift to advertising agencies and I have to say the back cover ad is pure genius. If you want another word from our sponsors and are not one of the fifteen million peeps to have seen this, check out the WC Nike Ad.

Tonight, Spain v Switzerland with my fave ref Howard Webb from Rotheham......with apologies if you're losing the will to live.

The (not so) beautiful game.

I’ve been watching a lot of footy lately; it must be a latent British gene similar to the tea drinking one that didn’t rear its delightful Earl Grey head until I was in my mid 30’s.

Now don’t get me wrong, just because my viewing hours have increased - in no way has this transferred into actual knowledge as to how to play the game. In fact I watch a game now the way I always have done– with a proportionally balanced lack of knowledge for the rules and a ‘people magazine’ type interest in the players. Does that make me any less of a fan....not on your nelly. I drive home and salivate with the knowledge that I’m going to be watching Milan v Juventus or Man City v Chelsea. I oft think 'God there's so much more I could do with my evenings', but watching 22 men run after that ball for 90 minutes is consistency hard to beat. Good grief ( I blame Giampaolo).

With my current diet of at least two or three matches a week I sit on my couch eating dinner, enjoying a glass of wine and wondering ‘how hard can it be to run, pass, strike and fake injury for 90 minutes’? A naive question I know - as I rarely work out for more than an hour at a time and get puffed out after 20 minutes of running (ok maybe 15)!

So one ill advised afternoon I grabbed my dirty rarely used football and went to the park to see what those lads are actually made of . Ladies and gentlemen, my answer was all too apparent ‘sterner stuff than me’! Let me put it this way, the first thing that hurt was my big toe nail and I know how to kick a football!!!

Meanwhile, in honor of his extended stay in Milan, Beckham got a new tattoo!