A multicoloured collection of national flags fluttering from car windows, attached to trucks and pinned to motorbikes is a sure sign that what is commonly referred to as “the greatest show on earth” is about to begin.

Over the next month, the bars will be full and offices half empty such is the fascination and fervour that surrounds football’s World Cup — the granddaddy of all sports events.

And when it comes to this iconic sporting festival, Bermuda is much like every other nation across the globe. Football reigns supreme.

On the street, in the cafes and restaurants, football will consume every conversation.

Everyone will voice their opinion, make their predictions and hold their own post mortems.

Employers might want to brace themselves for more “sick days” (and less production) than usual.

One of the game’s minnows, our Island will never participate in the finals — at not least in the foreseeable future — but that won’t dampen the enthusiasm which extends from Somerset to St George’s.

Arguably bigger than the Olympics, bigger than the Super Bowl, Wimbledon, Tour De France and golf’s Masters combined, in terms of international TV coverage, this ever expanding festival captures the imagination even of those who would normally ignore anything that resembles a boot or a ball.

In Bermuda, there will be few exceptions.

Added to the attraction is that this year’s edition travels to Brazil — the land of maraca shaking and samba dancing.

The game’s galacticos will get chance to strut the same stage. In the past it was the likes of Pele and Diego Maradona. This time its Argentina’s Lionel Messi and Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo who will top the bill.

Vasco da Gama on Reid Street will be rocking. As will sports clubs around the Island. Perhaps a few Go Go girls could add to the half-time entertainment!

Some Bermudian fans will make the pilgrimage to South America. Those who don’t will embrace the spirit created by this unique sporting carnival.

Should the host nation, five-time champions, prevail again — as many believe they will — victory will spark unprecedented celebrations. Should they fail, the mood of a nation will plummet.

In Brazil, it’s not a game, it’s a religion.

Such fanaticism extends to Britain. The late Bill Shankly, the legendary Liverpool manager, might have best summed it up when asked by a reporter before a crucial league game whether it was a matter of life and death.

“It’s far more important than that,” he replied. He did so with a straight face.

Many years later, in the 1994 World Cup, so it was.

Colombian defender Escobar made a defensive mistake that cost his team victory in the match against Romania.

Back in Medellin, 10 days later, Escobar was shot dead by a gunman as he left a nightclub. With each bullet his assailant was reported by police to have shouted: “Goal.”

Security will be tight in Rio de Janeiro, particularly around the Maracana, the site of the final. Overlooking that stadium, less than a mile away are the drug riddled slums where even the police dare not to enter.

But that security will not be water tight. As we’ve seen before, in football, cricket and road running (last year’s Boston Marathon), those intent on carnage have the ability to do so. Hopefully, any frenzy will be confined to those on the field and in the stadium stands.

This year 32 two countries will compete in 64 matches.

The event has been described as 64 consecutive Super Bowls, except that every game is bigger. It’s estimated 188 million TV viewers will watch every match. It’ll generate billions of dollars — $2.55 billion for governing body FIFA alone.

Cricket might once have been considered the gentleman’s game, soccer the working man’s game.

These days it encompasses all creeds and cultures, the poor and the rich.

It all begins when hosts Brazil entertain Croatia tomorrow. Thirty two days later it ends. And even then many will still be thirsty for more.