When it is all over, the arguments, the endless analysis and the overwhelming dullness of the competition will descend on millions of British women just as it does every Saturday afternoon between August and May. Then domestic life will continue unchallenged until the new season begins a few weeks later.
Until then, women will huddle in pubs across Britain planning their escape from World Cup '98.
They will discuss contingency plans in their offices and then they will go home to their husbands and boyfriends and realise that whatever they do they cannot compare, in football terms that is, to that sweet memorable moment last Sunday when Arsenal won the Premiership title at Highbury.
As a committed football fan with little choice in the team I would support, since my father was the kit-manager at Arsenal for 32 years, I am looking forward to the World Cup immensely. The thought of six weeks of football during the summer beckons like an invitation to a select club where the rules are set out clearly for all to follow.
And despite the fear that a few thugs will attempt to spoil the party and that the England team stands little chance of winning, it seems a perfect way to enjoy the end of the season.
Of course, not everyone wants to join in. And therein lies the problem identified by the Media Business Group this week in its survey of the British male and what is now known as the World Cup Widow. During the football season she is known simply as the Football Widow.
But six weeks of analysis on the television and in the newspapers and replays of the best matches in the competition clearly deserves a special category for women who cannot cope with the prospect of so much football. The World Cup Widower has yet to make an appearance in such surveys, but with so many more women taking an interest in the sport it is surely only a matter of time before they make themselves known.
In its survey, the Media Business Group found that 95 per cent of British men between the ages of 20 and 34 would rather watch the World Cup than make love to the woman of their dreams. Among the over-35s, only 40 per cent would be distracted from Alan Hansen's commentary by the opportunity for "fantasy passion."
But, according to Rogan Taylor, the director of research at the University of Liverpool's Football Research Unit, women should not despair.
He suspects that these men were comparing the "absolute best football moment with a run-of-the-mill sexual encounter." And, into the bargain, he says, they were probably being more honest than women give them credit for.
The important stages in men's lives, such as the birth of a child or falling in love for the first time, he argues, do not necessarily exclude the "thrill" of an important football match. Indeed, since many men equate the camaraderie they find in football with their relationships with women then, apparently, they have nothing to worry about.
"Football is an enormously important focus for male relationships and conversation," says Taylor. "Unlike many points of contact between men, football transfers globally. So they do perhaps clutch it rather tightly to their bosoms."
Despite these encouraging words the fact remains that for millions of women World Cup '98 translates into six weeks of torture.
"I imagine that I'll be forced to watch the whole competition while attempting in vain to distract his attention," says Katherine Randall, a London housewife. "I really do feel like a World Cup Widow whenever it is on the television, but thank goodness it only comes around every few years.
"The fact that our holiday this summer has been put off until the World Cup is over just goes to show you what I'm up against."
Eight out of 10 women, according to the survey, have said they will make their own plans for the tournament, probably choosing to escape on a sunshine holiday or to their girlfriend's house, where football will be a taboo subject.
These women at least have decided to take the initiative and not attempt a conversation with someone who is evidently not capable of conversation at such a crucial moment.
"I'm definitely not going to be a World Cup Widow," says Paula Murray, who lives with her boyfriend in Islington, north London. "I'll be there in the pub watching it myself.
"Why should the men have all the fun? All my girlfriends agree that if you can't beat them, join them."