Brian Viner: How Ron and Shuggy caught a student 'Safe Hands' napping

We goalkeepers, a marvellous band of eccentrics (Jose Luis Chilavert, David Icke), entertainers (Rene Higuita, John Burridge) egomaniacs (Oliver Kahn, Fabien Barthez) and existentialists (Albert Camus, Neville Southall), watched David Seaman's distress on Friday and, with the exception of Camus who was run over by a taxi in 1960, thought: "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

The goalkeeper is only ever one fumble, one moment of naïve positioning, one misdirected throw, away from eternal torment. For me it came in an important match towards the end of the 1983-84 season, when, playing in the East Fife League for St Andrews University second XI against the quaintly-named Kennoway Beam, I too was caught horribly out of position at a free-kick.

The Kennoway skipper, Ron McTaggart, had noticed my tendency to stray from my line in order to see what time it was on the pavilion clock. He had a word with the Kennoway right-winger, Shuggy Dean, who promptly steered the ball into the top left corner, leaving me floundering inelegantly.

Thus was Seaman undone by Ronaldinho, and me by Ron and Deano (names may have been slightly changed for punning purposes). The fact that we were already losing 12-1 was neither here nor there. For a goalkeeper, when the ball is hoisted high towards you, there is nothing more sickening than the realisation, as you back-pedal furiously and flap your arms around, quite literally like a clown, that it is destined for the back of the net.

So Seaman, who arguably had done more than anyone not only to keep England in the World Cup but also to get them there (his brilliant first-half save from Jörg Bohme in Munich was no less significant in the Germany v England qualifier than Michael Owen's goals), now goes down, at least in his own tortured mind, as the man whose mistake propelled them out.

Incidentally, whatever fellow ex-goalkeepers such as Bob Wilson say, I am one of the maligned minority who believe that Ronaldinho meant to do precisely what he did. I too spotted that Seaman was way off his line before that free-kick. And the Brazilians knew that he had injured his back in the first half, inhibiting his ability to arch.

Moreover, Ronaldinho insists that his captain, Cafu, suggested that Seaman might be vulnerable to a shot, as he was to Nayim's extraordinary effort in the dying seconds of the 1995 European Cup-Winners' Cup Final.

People have said that there is no comparison between Ronaldinho's goal and Nayim's, for Real Zaragoza against Arsenal. But if a court were sitting in judgment on Ronaldinho v Seaman, there would surely be a gasp from the jury at the revelation that the Real Zaragoza side that night contained none other than, dramatic pause for effect, Cafu.

It all matters, of course, not a jot. What does matter is that Seaman is not vilified in the coming Premiership season, and happily that already seems unlikely. For one thing, the England fans who welcomed the team at Heathrow on Saturday night by all accounts voiced loud support for the big goalkeeper. For another, it is manifestly wrong to pin the blame on one man when so many others under-performed.

And we also have the David Beckham precedent to consider.

When Beckham scored against Argentina, and indeed in the qualifier against Greece to book England's place in the finals, those celebrating included the morons who, following the sending-off incident four years ago, wished cancer on young Brooklyn. I hope they found a twinge of shame in their miserable hearts. Seaman will not get as many chances as Beckham to make footballing amends for a footballing error, but then he should not have to. On the other hand, if he does feel compelled to carry out an act of contrition, I would not be sorry to see that pony-tail go.

So much for England. Who do we root for now? My friend Paul wants Brazil, on account of them being by far the best team still in the tournament. My wife wants South Korea, on account of her being a romantic.

My friend Heinrich wants Germany, on account of him being German. And I want Turkey, on account of having had a fantastic time on Saturday afternoon, driving up and down Wood Green High Road in North London, high-fiving people in cars coming the other way.

There is a large Turkish population in Wood Green, and most of them took to the High Road following Ilhan Mansiz's golden goal against Senegal, waving flags and beeping their horns.

My children, who were allowed just this once to stick their heads through the sun roof, were besides themselves with excitement. It was a thrilling carnival of noise and joy, Turkish delight such as Fry's could never have envisaged, and it quite obliterated my sense of dejection following England's defeat. Had he been there, it might even have cheered up David Seaman.

b.viner@independent.co.uk