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IF I tell you I have a hunch about a sporting event, then have a hunch of your own that the opposite will happen. I have a terrible track record with these things.
But last year I got something right.

Alessia Russo's stunning surprise backheel against Sweden in the semi-final. Credit: Getty

Ace Chloe Kelly celebrates her winner. Credit: PA

The Lionesses gatecrash the press conference and party. Credit: Getty

I wrote in The Sun that England's Women will win the Euros.
And they did. Thrillingly, miraculously, brilliantly, inspiringly?.?.?.?they only went and did it.

There were a trio of Three Lionesses moments which are right up there with anything our men have done. Moments which changed everything.
Oh the joy of Russo’s backheel in the semi-final.

Very occasionally a player will do something which no one sees coming. They sell a dummy which everyone buys.
Their teammates, their opponents, the commentators, the cameras, the crowd and the TV audience all look for the ball to go one way, but it goes ­somewhere else.
No matter how many times you watch it back, Alessia Russo's backheel takes you by surprise.

This was the moment even the most cynical, not-for-me women’s football refusenik went “Oof! Wow! OK.”
Then there was Chloe Kelly's winner in the final. By then we were so into it.
Earlier, as we became true believers, it dawned on us that while everything was different, it could all yet turn out the same.
Same old England, sure to lose in the end, to Germany, inevitably.
But no! Into the net went the ball and over her head came Chloe’s shirt.

This was the moment we knew the Lionesses were different.
They were winners. And we all felt like winners too.
And then there was the invasion of the press ­conference.
The all-singing, all-dancing, conga of ­mischief and joy.
This was the moment we were reminded that, at its great beating heart, football is actually about, you know, having fun.
Total ­uninhibited happiness.
Great, great times.
And this week we go again.
It’s going to be harder this time.
Not just because it’s the World Cup, nor because it’s happening a world away in a land down under.
No, it’s because now England expects.
Success creates its own pressure.
And this means they need us to get behind them more than ever before.
They gave us something wonderful last summer and now, in a sense, we need to give them something back.
Someone once said that success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan.

True that. We need to demonstrate that we’ve not been fairweather friends to our Lionesses.
We need to be with them all the way.
We can’t bide our time and wait for a moment of glory to be within our grasp.
They need us right behind them from the off. They need us now.
And it’s not just about the World Cup either.
Last week Karen Carney former Lioness midfielder and chair of a major review into the women’s game, published her report.
It’s not a back-patting, look-how-far-we’ve-come exercise.
It’s much more important than that.
Her call is for the top two tiers of women’s football to be made fully professional; for a new regular broadcast slot on television; for better investment, better facilities, higher standards all around.

This isn’t romantic stuff about backheels, shirt-shedding or crazy congas.
This is the gritty, tricky, challenging stuff needing to be done to get more girls playing, and more women winning, in the environments they’ve earned the right to enjoy.
There’s 126 pages to this report, and it’s well worth a read, but Karen sums it up rather neatly for us in just a few words.
“Nothing can take away from our great achievements,” she says.
“But it is like Instagram vs reality, and the latter is worrying and we need to address it.”

She’s right. The Instagram posts tell a story of shiny new success with money to match.
The reality is huge areas of the women’s game underfunded and underloved. The poor relation.
The seeds of failure are often sown in times of success.
Power is in our hands
It would be all too easy for us to say, “Oh yeah, women’s football. Love it! I get it! We’re brilliant! Job done!”
Never mind the facilities, let’s just admire that backheel again.
Even if the Lionesses win the World Cup and conga all the way home with the trophy, the gap between Instagram and reality won’t be closed.

If anything, it will be wider. The Instagrams will look even glossier, and the reality will change barely a jot.
A massive opportunity could go ­begging, and that would be a dreadful thing.
So what, you might ask, can we, the fans, do to close Karen’s Instagram vs reality gap?

But the power is still in our hands.
Because if we carry on seeing the power and potential of the women’s game, and stick with it, and demand ­better, all the good stuff will follow.
More than ever before, at this World Cup and way beyond, everyone from the Lionesses to the little girl in the park wanting a kickabout, need our backing.
Let’s do this.