Football awaits judgment by the converted as much as the curious when Brazil, the yardstick by which all others measure progress, open their defence of the World Cup against Scotland today.

Traditionally the World Cup finals are the showpiece of the game, an occasion for the technocrats to assess the way football is evolving and, for the money minders, an opportunity to sell their product to the corporate sector.

In each instance, the evidence of France 98 promises to be enlightening. For the first time since its inception almost 70 years ago, the finals have been expanded to embrace 32 teams.

And one of the consequences of the new format is that a television audience of 35 billion is projected for the marathon programme, with the final alone likely to be to be watched by 1.7 billion people - one in three of the world's population.

It's an unique chance to sell the first of the field games to a public undreamed of in terms of digits only 20 years ago. But if the opportunities are enormous, so, too, are the responsibilities.

In spite of its extravagant wealth, or perhaps because of it, football is now under scrutiny as never before. Sleaze is not a word exclusive to politics, and at yesterday's press conference in downtown Paris a leading FIFA official admitted to some disquiet over suggestions that the finals could be devalued by corruption.

"It's not a problem which should be exaggerated, neither is it one we can afford to ignore," said Keith Cooper. "We are not a police force, but by educating young players and warning against the dangers of getting involved in such things, we believe that it will not be a factor here."

Of more concern to the hierarchy is the deepening schism between FIFA and its more important constituent body, UEFA, in the wake of Monday's controversial appointment of Sepp Blatter to replace Joao Havelange as president of the parent body.

The manner in which Lennart Johansson's support collapsed in the 48 hours preceding the election has given rise to all kinds of dark possibilities, the least offensive of which is that the new man has a major diplomatic task on his hands to bring the dissenters with him into the new millennium.

On the question of rules, there is proof that FIFA is preparing to take their philosophy of football as a non-contact sport a stage further by outlawing, it seems, anything approximating a tackle from behind. It is perhaps nothing more than coincidence that Michel Platini, one of the arch proponents of a silky, fluent game, heads up the organising committee in France. But he and his supporters have failed to this point to define what is and isn't permissible.

Tackling is an integral part of football and critics of the campaign to limit its influence argue that any further attempt to tinker with the existing framework will distort the game to an unrecognisable degree.

Significantly less contentious is the new legislation whereby stoppage time, so often a source of irritation, will now be measured and, as a consequence, less likely to cause referees to err.

The up side of the drama about to enfold is that it offers the possibility, slim but discernible, of new teams emerging to threaten the power bloc of Brazil, Germany, Italy and Argentina.

This is particularly true of the African nations, where the development of new, formidable forces, first noticed during the 1982 finals in Spain, has now reached a point where the cynics will dismiss them at their peril.

Nigeria, Cameroon, Morocco and Tunisia are all capable of trading at profit here, but it is the first appearance in the finals of South Africa and the skill and excitement they promise to bring to the championship which gives these finals extra significance.

Bafana Bafana, a lot more popular domestically but not nearly as well known internationally as their rugby counterparts, the Springboks, arrive in France with a reputation as a team with the potential for surprise.

Asia, too, promises to exert a greater influence, and from the United States comes the familiar but now more credible warning that they are capable of beating anybody, even Germany, whom they meet in their opening game, here in Paris next Monday.

England and Scotland, whose achievements seldom match the sum of their parts on these occasions, are making familiar soundings.

Yet, for all the trumpeting of the arrival of new empires in distant parts, it is the familiar names of the big four which, together with that of the host country, is dominating speculation on the eve of the big kick-off.

Apart from Brazil in Sweden in 1958, no team has taken the trophy back across the Atlantic, a statistic which will not be lost in either the Brazilian or Argentinian camps.

That presupposes that a European side will take possession of the trophy after the final in the Stade de France on July 12th, and for all the criticism of an uninspired, ageing team, Germany fit the description of a side with the skill and methodology to succeed.