The booing was particularly intense, venomous even, as the poor, unfortunate ersatz Krauts trotted past the Swiss fans, who had turned one end of the stadium red. In this instance, the Germans are truly the only nation capable of uniting the rest of Europe.After the children, after the jousting, after the appearance in the centre circle of a trophy so huge its lid would have been too big even for Alex Ferguson's head, came Mick Hucknall, ploughing his way through his dirge of an official anthem called "We're in this Together". Hucknall was backed up by a gospel choir, 100-strong and looking marvellous in black academic gowns. As a Manchester United fan, Hucknall should have known his own choice of outfit would be less effective than theirs: he merged hopelessly into the crowd in a suit of grey.

And the children dressed as Germans are probably now in counselling: their first appearance on a national stage and they were booed almost as ferociously as Emlyn Hughes. There was a nice irony in Croatia, for instance, a nation born of ferocious ethnic cleansing, being represented by an entirely Asian school. Intriguingly, since England is the nation that also gave the world Pink Floyd, Saturday's was an opening ceremony devoid of hi-tech, lasers or giant inflatables. Perhaps in deference to Europeans who would have been terrified at the prospect of vast British farmyard animals floating across the London sky, instead the performance was all low-tech, flag-waving and pantomime dragons.In China, small children are sent virtually at birth to schools where they dedicate their lives to the art of holding up coloured cards in breath- stealingly complex patterns at the opening ceremonies of sporting events.In England, for Euro 96, a few children from local schools were dispatched to their nearest sports shop, decked out in replica kits of the competing nations and told to jog round the Wembley pitch waving at the crowd.Hardly inspiring, but this approach was not without its diversions.

Best to save the energy for next week and Scotland, to let the stadium reverberate to "we all hate Jocks and Jocks and Jocks". It probably wasn't just the police, incidentally, who noticed how badly the segregation had gone awry inside Wembley, how many Swiss were dotted among the English, even among those hard-core nationalists down in front of the Royal Box, who clench their fists in fervent salutes during "God Save The Queen".But worries like that are for another time. Saturday was for showing the world what England does best: bad pageantry, turgid pomp, rock and palsied football. No need to be too hard on them, then.Goodness, once hostilities began in earnest, our boys didn't even boo the Swiss national anthem. The lads assumed the visitors were there to make up the numbers, to lie down in the first game, to give the hosts an easy route to the quarter-finals.

Not that the Swiss minded, maybe they didn't anticipate anything less while wearing wedges of plastic cheese on their heads.Scenes like this must have been repeated all over town: the police reported only 15 arrests as the 5,000 Swiss cheerfully accepted the role ascribed to them by the English. Except Emlyn Hughes, who, as he was booed to the rafters, performed a useful function for the first time in his life: he allowed the England crowd to prove one thing about themselves. That they know a prat when they see one.On Saturday, they had plenty of practice spotting them. At Baker Street station earlier in the day, a dozen Swiss fans, in red shirts, faces painted and wearing baseball caps with large wedges of plastic cheese on the top, bounded on to a train from King's Cross already filled with beery lads from Portsmouth, Reading and Swindon bawling "no surrender to the IRA". For about 10 seconds, there was an odd stand-off as the Swiss climbed aboard, looking nervously at the occupants, until one of the lads started singing "The Birdie Song" by the Smurfs at them. Much guffawing, back-slapping and hand-shaking ensued.This presumably constitutes a good, old-fashioned, warm English welcome: citizens of the richest nation on earth mocked as a bunch of gnomes.

But last Saturday afternoon, at about two o'clock at Wembley Stadium, no one could gainsay their judgement. For the opening ceremony of Euro 96, a collection of former England players were summoned on to the pitch, in the manner of old champions called into the ring before a Don King promotion, their mere presence hoped to be enough to inspire the boys. There was Stanley Matthews, at 82 looking quicker round Wembley than many of the present team; there was Jimmy Greaves, a man smiling on despite the constant reminder that it is now nearly 30 years to the day since his greatest disappointment: being left out of the World Cup final; and there was Ray Wilkins, the snappiest dresser in football, showing that his time in Milan was spent mainly down the tailors.Each of them received a warm and rousing welcome, as did every other player who trotted out. In the first of a series celebrating the big events of the summer, Jim White travels to Wembley to witness the opening of Euro 96 Much has been said over the years about England football fans, about their intolerance, their oafishness, their leaden insensitivity. Substitutes: McNamara (Bradford), Molloy (Featherstone), Rowley (Halifax), Calland (Bradford).FRANCE: (Paris St-Germain unless stated): Lucchese; Cervello, Garcia (Sheffield), Banquet, Bomati; Devecchi, Entat (capt); Boudebza, Torreilles, Teixido, Cabestany, Jampy, Pech Substitutes: Yaha, Adams, Bisson (Villeneuve), Van-Brussel..