Surviving The Summer/Caroline Murphy: It's entirely possible that you think the big soccer event of the summer is taking place in Portugal. On the other hand, if you live anywhere near us, you would know this is not the case.

The major soccer event of the year has been taking place in the local club.

As you read this, it will have just finished. The local politician, who would not miss for anything the prize-giving and its attendant opportunity to spend one evening at the centre of the world, will have handed out the medals. The tears of joy and disappointment will have been wiped away. The flags will have been taken down, folded and put away for another year. Yes, the mini world cup will be over.

What an event. It completely and utterly dominates June in this part of the world. It's one of those happenings that consumes all those who are involved, at whatever level, and allows for no interruption whatever.

This I learned to my cost about five years ago. At the time, I was heavily involved in the school parents' association and for the previous couple of years we had run a very successful family table quiz. People used to queue down the stairs and out the door to get a table. It was mega, and we really believed we were where it was at for all local families on at least one Sunday afternoon of the year.

But that was until we unwittingly scheduled our quiz for the Sunday in the middle of the mini world cup. Oh disaster! What a shock to misplaced pride. We had a quiz in a huge hall for I'd say about six families - including my own. We may all have gone home with obscene numbers of spot prizes, but it didn't really compensate for knowing just to what extent we were playing second fiddle.

So we got sense and, having recognised our total inability to beat the mini world cup, we became part of it. It has always been incredibly well organised but, in the beginning, on a rather modest basis. The children would be told what country they were playing for and given that country's colours. Then it was up to them to turn up in some sort of a top and shorts close enough to those colours that their team mates could identify them.

Now our local event rivals Euro 2004. Sponsored T-shirts are issued in country colours, complete with logo. The flags of the featuring nations fly each night. Hot food is served so that players and followers alike hang around after their matches. Team line-ups and match schedules are posted on the Internet - on the Internet! And of course, as is the case with every big, self-respecting event, there is a prediction competition, with wristwatches the big prize.

It is a phenomenal event, offering so many opportunities at so many levels for people to emulate their heroes. Budding referees learn early how to withstand the slightly over-the-top advice (we wouldn't dream of calling it bullying) that rains in from the parents on the sidelines.

Apprentice Alex Fergusons are allowed apply for the role of manager from the age of 14, just as they become too old to play in the competition. And they take to the job with relish, telephoning players to confirm availability, making selections and substitutions and talking tactics. Teams are even summoned to a training and team-building session the weekend before.

Mind you, the glory of the role doesn't come without the attendant downside. It took only one match for our five-year-old to be calling for the sacking of his manager - on the basis of poor team selection. As our modest young man told it, the match had been lost because the man in charge had neglected to call him and his friend back on after half-time. Just like the real thing, then.

But, there is one crucial factor that really makes it all tick. The teams are picked at random, rather than on the basis of ability. Thus it is as likely that your peg-legged, stumbling duckling will end up on the same team as the club star, and so will emerge with a gleaming gold medal at the end of it all, as it is that your flashy, talented Mr Giggs will. It does a lot for the talented players' humility, I can tell you, just as it does for the poor players' confidence.

And of course, although it feels as if we are the centre of the world while it is all on, it isn't just happening here. All over the place, as summer unfolds, different clubs host a variety of sporting extravaganza - mini All-Irelands are just another variation on the theme. So if by any chance you hear of such a tournament in your locality, grab the chance. Your children will have a ball and, believe me, you will too. Up Finland!