By Tom de Castella England has exited the football World Cup and once again failed to live up to expectations. But why do the English fool themselves, again and again, into believing they can win, and might they actually enjoy it? According to Wikipedia, hysteria is "a state of mind of unmanageable fear or emotional excesses. The fear is often caused by multiple events in one's past that involved some sort of severe conflict." Sound familiar? After a humiliating 4-1 defeat to Germany, England has once again entered an unofficial period of national mourning. It's something the country goes through after every World Cup or European Championship exit - from euphoric anticipation to shock and despair in the space of 90 minutes. So have the English become hysterical in their dealings with the national side? Harry Eyres, writer of the Financial Times's Slow Lane column, believes the passion has taken on a desperate, obsessive quality: "Too much seems to hang on it. We appear needy as a nation. There's an extraordinarily neurotic fear and excessive expectation about watching England. I don't think we're in touch with reality." The world is entranced by the beautiful game every four years. But not everyone seems to invest as much importance in their national side. On holiday in Spain during the 2002 World Cup, Eyres remembers pulling into a bar in Andalucia to catch the end of the Spanish team's quarter final with South Korea. The talented Spanish side went on to lose but there was no vitriol, Eyres recalls: "It was amazing how lightly they took it. This was a working class, blue collar bar. Can you imagine a pub full of builders in England when the team get knocked out - it would be a tragedy. My impression is that in Spain it just doesn't matter so much." Writer Simon Kuper sees a similar imbalance of expectation when England is compared with France, where he lives. If the English did badly in this competition, the French - finalists in the last World Cup - did even worse, getting knocked out in the first round. But in France, says Kuper, author of Why England Lose, no-one thought the home side would actually win. What enraged the French public was not poor displays on the pitch but the mutinous behaviour of the team's arrogant stars. "Unlike the English the French are able to switch off the team when they're angry with it. People are disgusted. But they don't go into the anguish of looking at the country as a whole. They just say the team are horrible people." Not only do the English never learn. They appear to thrive on the masochism of outlandish hope followed by tragic defeat, he argues. "I think people enjoy the ritual. Every four years it happens and takes you back to previous tournaments. It's a communal moment, people sharing the pain with each other at the bus stop. It's that thing about big World Cup games that end in tragedy - usually on penalties, ideally to Germany." But that ritual comes at a price, says Kuper, who sees a crucial difference between the attitude of the English side and that of his native Holland. Anger-land "When a Dutch player scores he's happy but when an England player does it's all clenched jaw, relief and anger. It's very stressful for the England players. It's like with children at school, when they know the expectations are too high and they can't meet them." But if England is deceiving itself about its ability, who or what is guilty of inflating expectations unrealistically high? Britain's tabloid press frequently seem to overplay the side's ability. But that's no surprise, says Roy Greenslade, a professor of journalism and a former editor of the Daily Mirror. Playing on the hopes of fans, and reinforcing their disappointment, is all part of the never ending circulation battle. "The biggest football fans are tabloid readers. And the popular papers both respond to and ramp up the public mood. And it is our national sport. You don't get this level of interest for cricket." But there is something unique about Britain's newspaper industry, he says: "We are different in having a competitive national press. So the papers can galvanise a population across the whole country. They can't do that in France or Germany where much of the press is regional." Back in 1966 when England won the World Cup and Greenslade was a young reporter for the now defunct Barking Advertiser there were only two national tabloids. Today the newspaper scene is almost unrecognisable by comparison.