WE INVENTED the game, we watch our football in winter conditions sufficiently dreadful to have daunted Roald Amundsen or Captain Oates, our Tartan Army spreads peace and harmony wherever it goes, while Rangers, Celtic and Aberdeen, combined, have taken somewhere in the region of 300,000 travelling fans all over Europe with them this season. Scotland is obsessed with football. OK?

We can't understand it when we see next to no away supporters travelling in La Liga, or when Barcelona and Real Madrid swell with pride if they take 500 fans to an away Champions League match at Parkhead, Ibrox or Anfield.

But, make no mistake about it, Spain is utterly, totally head-over-heels bonkers about fútbol.

Their media coverage is every bit as intense as here in the UK. Infact, so intricate is the analysis of any football competition that Spain qualifies for that every paper will carry a spread of graphics and copy detailing everything, every last thing, that the national team is going to take with it to Japan/Korea, Portugal, Germany and this time Switzerland and Austria.

The shin guards, the bibs, the chewing gum, the boots, the training cones, the jockstraps, the water bottles, the computer games if it is travelling it is listed in Marca or AS.

But the one thing which always puzzles seasoned watchers of the national side is why they never list the white flags, where they pack them and how they mysteriously seem to produce them when throwing a lead against Nigeria, losing on penalties to England, flopping miserably against Portugal or having a legitimate goal chalked off against Korea. Every two years Spain find a different way to end up with their faces dripping in custard - it is like the very best slapstick, you don't know how it is going to happen this time, but you know it is going to happen.

If you live and work in Spain it is always the second or third question after the weather - can the football team finally punch their weight in this tournament?

This time, for the English pundits, of course they are going to leave the white flags in Spanish FA headquarters - Las Rozas, Madrid, 28230 Espana. But my advice is get over there and check in the cupboards or the laundry room just to make sure before you even place a 5 each-way bet.

It was fascinating to see Alan Shearer and Alan Hansen agree that this was Spain's year because of Torres and Fabregas. Then they ran out of names.

What they omitted to mention is that El Nino has made great play of how much he thrives on the brilliant supply of clinical passes from Steven Gerrard, that he adores the physical nature of the Premier League and that Liverpool actively seek him out with their first or second forward pass, while Spain still pitter-patter around with the ball for interminable ages in a style which looks like basketball but is descended from all the rigmarole and etiquette required to kill a bull in a corrida.

Torres is going to get blown for fouls more often, is going to receive fewer quick, probing passes and probably won't have the regular connection with Fabregas that he craves.

That is because Cesc, who has always felt less comfortable in his work for the senior national team, isn't an automatic choice to start and doesn't count on the total support and understanding of Luis "Wise Man of Hortaleza" Aragones.

His nickname gives a clue to the nature and life of a man who has fought with depression, alcohol, gambling and almost 99% of the footballing world.

Aragones has carried this monicker since anyone can remember, but he always has to ruefully admit that it was his brother who was actually called the "Wise Man of Hortaleza". That Luis was labelled it was a journalistic mix up in an interview with the then Atletico Madrid striker and it has erroneously stuck ever since.

Whether he's wise enough to use Fabregas properly will be crucial in how well the next four weeks unravel for La Furia Roja (the Red Fury).

Aragones will either be a weak link or will finally spread the brute confidence Spain has always lacked - there will be no grey areas, no in-betweens.

Torres, for one, hopes that the man whose role at Atletico he inherited (powerful, adored, centre-forward, carrying everyone's hopes on his shoulders) will attempt to make Fabregas Spain's Stevie G. "I'd like to see Cesc enjoying his football for Spain like he does with Arsenal," said Torres. "He's one of the best in the world, he could be the star of the tournament but Spain really doesn't know how genuinely good he is yet."

Spain's group is no walk in the park, but Aragones has put together a simply brilliant run of results over the last year and a half since Northern Ireland made Spain look foolish in Belfast (2-1 up, lost 3-2). In fact, thanks to only one defeat in 16 matches, the Spanish are ranked by Fifa as fourth in the world.

However, you don't need to be the best team to win - look at Greece. What Spain has lacked is a bit of tournament nous and a bit of luck. "We've got the players and I'm going to Austria to win this Euro," said Aragones.

Given the quality of their defenders it probably shouldn't happen. Given the change of Torres' supply lines it shouldn't happen. Yet, perhaps the Wise Man is right. Luck. If someone forgets to pack the white flags, then you never know. But don't bet on it.