I'm not looking forward to summer. I thought I would try to struggle through the coming season with my head inside a paper bag, but a trip to my local Asda at the weekend convinced me that you can run but you cannot hide.

There it all was, laid out before my eyes: beach towels, alarm clocks, wallets, cuff-links, inflatable chairs, sun-loungers, even garden gnomes - all bearing the flag of St George, all in readiness for the World Cup.

I'm not a wet blanket, I'm all for a bit of patriotism, and I like a bit of football. But once again, the country has gone totally overboard. Take the merchandise in Asda.

I can understand mugs and T-shirts, but sun-loungers and gnomes - for pity's sake. There are even megaphones, presumably for people to use when yelling "Go on my son!" at the TV. I'm half expecting to see red and white bananas on the shelves.

There are still three weeks to go before a ball is kicked, yet for months we have been going wild. The England flag is everywhere - on cars, in shops, in the windows of people's homes. Wimbledon is not long after, but I have yet to spot one vehicle bearing a Tim Henman flag.

Whoever coined the term "football fever" was spot on. It is a raging fever. We need to get a grip, we need to put these forthcoming games - after all, that's what they are, games, entertainment - in perspective.

Yet, instead, the country goes completely bonkers, with employers re-scheduling workers' shift patterns and installing TV sets in offices to prevent staff phoning in sick when games are broadcast.

It is crazy, and it makes those of us who are not that bothered about football feel like killjoys.

On the day of the FA Cup final, I was queuing to buy a paper in front of a couple wearing football scarves, clearly chatting about a game. "What match have you been to?" I asked. "THE CUP FINAL!" they yelled. When I asked who was playing, they looked at me as though I'd told them to take off their underwear.

I like football, I even support - albeit loosely - a Premiership team, Middlesbrough, and have been to watch them. But I am not obsessed.

I cannot understand why anyone would want to drive around with flags waving from their car even before the first whistle. Some people are going so far as to have their homes decorated in red and white.

Then there is the usual glut of patronising advice for women (I thought nowadays females were meant to make up a large proportion of fans) in the newspapers, with tips such as "Buy yourself a new romantic blockbuster" or "Book some extra sessions at the gym". These are usually listed under headings such as "how to keep your man onside" or "How to meet his match".

I'm sure I am not alone, and if we are not careful growing numbers of people will club together to form a 'football resistance movement' where we will encourage people to learn to say 'no' to special-edition World Cup lager glasses and car seat covers and to begin to show an interest in other, low-profile activities such as fly fishing and badminton.

I've even thought of a catchphrase, which members will chant throughout the competition: "We hope it's all over."