All quiet on the western front

"Everyone Starts Somewhere." So says the advertisement on the Boulevard de Waterloo in downtown Brussels. The logo bisects two photographs. The top picture shows a shabby town square in rural southern France. The bottom one contains a portrait of Zinedine Zidane.

If the intended message is about unlikely origins bearing ripe fruit, then it should be grasped at. Euro 2000 is not beginning with a bang.

Aside from the Zidane advert, in fact, it is possible to walk around the Belgian capital, scene of the tournament's first game tonight, and not know the third largest sporting competition in the world is about to begin. Belgium versus Sweden is hours away. Everything starts somewhere. The Zidane analogy at least provides hope.

Maybe it has been the constant drip-drip of hooligan stories that has removed the anticipation from this country about its host status, or maybe it is Belgian understatement, but to make the five-mile journey from the city centre to the Heysel Stadium - as it is still called on the public transport network - and to arrive at the King Badouin ground, as it is officially known, is to partake of a trip up an empty corridor.

There are no street signs giving directions, there are none of the banners that are common elsewhere in this kind of situation. Not even Belgium's improving results has brought an outbreak of Red Devil fever.

Even when having been deposited underneath the Atomium, Brussels' equivalent of the Eiffel Tower, which stands yards away from the stadium, a non-sporting tourist would not know the obvious main attraction. The 102-metre high aluminium construction has nine massive globes representing the nine atoms of a molecule.

It is an impressive if slightly dilapidated sight, but it is a sign of Brussels' apparent indifference to the tournament that an alleged offer from Adidas to sponsor the nine spheres and decorate them as footballs was rebuffed.

Consequently the trappings are minimal. We must rely on the football. That is no bad thing. Starting tonight, Belgium and Sweden conduct the first of 31 tosses over 22 days, and with the likes of Zidane, Luis Figo, Edgar Davids, Francesco Totti, Sergen Yalcin and Raul among the many talents here, each flicking of the coin should be the prelude to some memorable football.

Sadly, we know from experience that our giddy expectation tends to get overwhelmed by dreary reality. Remember France against the Czech Republic at a half-empty Old Trafford in Euro 96? That was a semi-final.

There are no guarantees. Turkey v Italy in Arnhem tomorrow lunchtime has the feel of an intriguing collision of cultures and styles. Turkey, freshly confident due to Galatasaray's capture of the UEFA Cup, the first European triumph by a Turkish club, will be trying opposition for an Italy side that lives with the continual pressure of being Italy, and this season the thought that Serie A is somehow in decline.

Will Dino Zoff pick Totti? The azure question of the year, never mind the past week. Yet for all Sergen's Hagi-like creativity, if the Italians score first and early, the game could feel as long and attritional as a day in the saddle covering the cobbles of Flanders.

A stifled game makes for stifled viewing. Similarly, England against Portugal offers plenty. What transpires could be markedly less exciting.

It has been said that Group A, from where England and Portugal attempt to spring, fulfills the Group of Death criteria; but Group D, featuring France, Holland, Denmark and Euro 96 finalists the Czech Republic, may be the more appropriate bearer of the customary moniker.

A surprise result in one of the first four Group D fixtures could leave us with the prospect of France or Holland needing a victory when the two meet in Amsterdam on Wednesday week. Given that this game would be a worthy final, a knock-out match then would surely be hard to beat.

Much, as usual, will depend on the refereeing. The apparently insatiable desire amongst the game's hierarchy to tinker with the rules means that this tournament will see the goalkeeper's four-steps rule replaced to a new six-seconds one.

Rather than being able to take a catch at a corner and wait for the box to clear before moving, a goalkeeper will now be anxious to proceed quickly. The punishment for not doing so within the time is an indirect free-kick.

It is an unnecessary addition and is bound to cause confusion and disagreement between goalkeepers and referees.

As in the Premiership, the referee will also wear an ear piece, as will the fourth official.

Slowly the pedants are taking over. From the Euro 2000 handbook comes this gem. "Pulling the shirt over the head will not be punished. But teams will be informed that total shirt removal will be a yellow-card offence."

Considering the soaring temperatures across Belgium and The Netherlands these past two days, "total shirt removal" could be more common than the Eurocrats think.

Flamboyant celebration has long been mistaken in football as the manifestation of an interesting personality, and it would certainly be in keeping with the competition's beginnings if the restraint of Brussels was transferred to the pitch. Restrained, though, does not have to mean dull.