One Fort in the Grave, with KEITH FORT

WELL the festival of football is finally over. Doesn't life on the box suddenly seem dull? Unrelieved by the anti-climax of Wimbledon.

Fans are already looking forward to the next World Cup in 2006, I believe. I can't look that far ahead, I'm afraid. At my age I'm too preoccupied with whether I'll still be around to see it.

It would be nice, though. Just to see how the current crop of young players develop, what new talents may emerge in the four years, and whether the promise of the emergence of the Asian and African nations in the great game finally materialises.

I must say that of all the World Cup competitions I have seen, I have enjoyed this the most, despite the early exit of France, Italy and -- hooray! -- Argentina.

All these world events do have their downside, though. There are always penalties involved -- and not just on the pitch.

World Cup injuries stretched from the magnificent stadiums of Korea and Japan through Russia, Africa, the Americas, Europe and all the way down to my settee.

I'm not kidding. Mind you, I've got to say that Brazilian ace Rivaldo set a good example of how not to fake a World Cup injury when that thrown ball hit him on the knee and he collapsed on the pitch holding his face in mock agony.

I suffered a bigger World Cup injury than that, and I was sat at home! But more of that later.

I think the real heroes on the field were those lads who suffered groin injuries, torn ligaments, or a broken bone in a foot and were determined to play despite not being fully fit, and without complaint.

But then we move to injuries off the field. I think the Russians won that one as the "fans" in Moscow went on the rampage, Belfast-style, simply because their team lost. We were counting the cost of that soccer result not only in burned-out cars, torched trucks and damaged buildings, but in dead and injured. A side of the game we don't want to see.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the North Koreans showed how it really should be done. They demonstrated their resentment by turning their warships on their South Korean brothers, sinking one boat and killing four fans dressed in military uniforms.

I think we all have one message for the North K's -- get a team! Preferably trained by a Scandinavian.

Prior to that the South Koreans had suffered only crushing and trampling injuries as the Seoul brothers and Seoul sisters turn out in their millions to cheer on the Red Tigers and show us all what national support is all about.

Meanwhile in the US it was more subdued with about 14 fans heard cheering on their extremely talented soccer side, so no trouble there. Back in jubilant Ireland, the main injuries were reportedly caused by an over-enthusiastic consumption of Guinness as the lads in green exceeded their, and Mick McCarthy's expectations.

Over in England the event will probably be remembered as the time when the pubs opened for breakfast. I like a beer myself but I couldn't imagine pushing out the boat at 7am.

Thankfully the main injuries here were from the odd misdirected bottle hurled in excitement and the occasional disagreement in the ecstatic pub and open square crowds settled with fists, much to the relief of the FA downwards.

Over in France and Italy, doctors apparently faced a different medical dilemma -- how to stop fans weeping uncontrollably after their teams' shock early exit. And in Brazil they're still trying to scrape the paint off! Those who have stopped celebrating, at any rate.

Then there are the injuries to bank accounts. How DO they all afford it? Apparently some that got carried away will still be in debt by the time the next World Cup starts. One British couple reportedly spent £970 nipping over just to watch England play Brazil. That was before they were faced with $500 a ticket from the touts. No wonder there were a few empty seats.

Many fans saved money by sleeping in those 3ft by 3ft Japanese hotel coffin rooms where you just had space for your wallet and shoes as long as you left your socks outside. Better them than me.

But, of course, I suffered, too. Midway through the England v Argentina game I got a weird sensation in my mouth. I thought I had bitten clean through a finger nail until part of my front tooth fell in my lap. At may age I didn't think I was capable of getting so excited.

"I hope you realise this is a World Cup injury," I hollered to my dentist. "You're far from being the first," he declared. "The patient before you had a similar injury."

Apparently he'd snipped his tooth on a beer bottle. Mind you, I think he had an excuse -- he was watching the England-Brazil game.