Blog: I have been abandoned. Now I think I have suddenly become a whole new type of football widow.

Just as I was beginning to actually want to Bend it Like Beckham, He Who Knows has become He Who Heads for the Hills.

Now there’s no need to panic – my pledge to watch as many of the World Cup Games as possible has not derailed the marriage, at least not yet. No there was just a little too much female interpretation of last night’s Brazil versus North Korea game for my team coach.

As a football fan he was desperate to see Brazil show some of that brilliance they are so famous for – with a large haul of goals – because this was always a fixture on his must-see list. But after watching that poor player break down in tears just at the national anthem being played I couldn’t get over it.

I felt the tears well up as well. Since giving birth to my son I think I could cry for England. That and feel guilty – all the time. I am no football fan but I do remember watching Gazza in floods way back when. He Who Knows could quote date, time, opponents, score and where he was – but I just remember the waterworks and thinking he was lovely.

Of course I have since changed my mind over a man who has become a rather tragic character but I do believe those tears made many a member of the fairer sex look at football in a whole new light.

For the first few minutes last night hubby was happy to talk emotions of the beautiful game but the novelty wore off for him long before me. Nearing half-time I was still desperate to find out more about why he was so distraught before even kicking a ball. (Come on, it was far more interesting then what was happening once they did start playing.)

But I think my viewing companion is now terrified that – with new babies at home – there is every chance Rooney or Joe Cole or even both could start weeping and wailing on Friday and his match viewing will be reduced to the kind of mush he normally does everything to avoid.

So he’s off camping on a Dad and Lads weekend. All boys just in time for the England match.

But this is not just about trying to share something with him. This pledge was genuinely about seeing if I could enjoy watching the tournament and really get into it. So what’s a football widow to do?

Answer: Get the girlies round.

Now my new mission for this week, Fabio-style, is to convince my best girlfriends that a night in on Friday watching the footie is just what they need. I’m just not going to take no for an answer.

Or if that fails I might just get Butlers in the Buff in to help out.