Swissophile...

I've always had a bit of a thing for the Swiss, indeed I've spent so many summer holidays there I'm expecting my citizenship papers to be in the post as we speak, so when in the Listening to Livesey Facebook Group World Cup Sweepstake I drew, at random, the mighty Switzerland from the metaphorical hat, it could only be fate.

Faced with an agonising wait until their opening midweek fixture against the highly-fancied European champs Spain, I sat back and researched the team. Many of those players I remembered from last summer were there - the excellent 'keeper Diego Benaglio, skilful winger Tranquillo Barnetta, seasoned campaigner Hakan Yakin. However one or two surprises cropped up. An injury to target man Marco Streller meant a call-up for 18 year old, Albanian-born Xherdan Shaqiri of FC Basel. I can't claim to have seen much of Kosovan-Albanian-born (do I see a pattern emerging) Albert Bunjaku either, so when the Schweizer Nati took to the field against the would-be champions without pacy utility man Valon Behrami and all-time leading goalscorer Alexander Frei (who has endeared himself to me on numerous occasions, once for spitting at Steven Gerrard and then again in this match for nonchalantly sitting in the dugout with a cup of tea) and captained by Udinese midfielder Gokhan Inler, I suspected them to find it a little difficult.

There's no doubt that in 'der General' Ottmar Hitzfeld, the Swiss have a top-class manager. The German is the only manager to win the Champions' League with two different teams, a feat equalled this season by Jose Mourinho. But even with a two-time World Manager of the Year at the helm, it was hard to look past the talented Spaniards. Surely the Swiss would look to snatch a point with some stout containment of Davids Villa and Silva and midfield dangermen Andres Iniesta and Xabi Alonso.

After the opening few minutes it was clear that this was the plan, now it was just a question of its effectiveness. Hopes took a blow when recently-unveiled Fulham signing Phillipe Senderos left the field with an injury. Steve von Bergen was brought on to partner rugged center half Stephane Grichting. The strike partnership of Blaise NKufo and hot prospect Eren Derdiyok saw little of the ball, as the Spanish stroked it around, sending chance after chance safely into Benaglio's gloves or sailing over the bar.

Then, from nothing, a Swiss break saw Derdiyok charge into the box, Casillas came out to win the ball but only suceeded in bundling the young Swiss over, I was ready to appeal for a penalty, but as my mouth opened, Gelson Fernandes popped up to stab home the loose ball and give Switzerland a remarkable lead over who many considered to be the champions-in-waiting.

The next hour or so saw my nerves shredded. Spain spurned yet more chances and heroics from the magnificent Benaglio and sheer determination from the veteran Grichting. A lively looking Lichtsteiner at right back made a couple of surging runs, but the Swiss found themselves very much penned into their own half. Then all of a sudden Derdiyok popped up again and hit the upright. The Swiss were showing real danger on the break, but that would be their last meaningful attack.

As the game wore on would tired legs be able to maintain the brave defending that had preserved the lead for this long? Spain threw on Torres in a last gasp attempt to break down the highly organised Swiss defence, but he fired his best chance wide and, despite looking lethal throughout, Spain succumbed to defeat in their opening game.

This was a magnificent result and a tactical victory for der General. Swiss Parliament finished early so they could watch the end of the game, car horns were blown triumphantly in the streets of Bern, Basel and Zurich and for a day Alpenhorns triumphed over Vuvuzelas. My national pride was stirred (impressive, seeing as I'm not a Swiss national) and I felt jubilation for the first time this World Cup. Hopp Schwiiz!