TV VIEW: With the world champions, France, on the brink, it was time for serious questions. "Do you think the unthinkable is possible?" demanded Gary Lineker of Alan Hansen.

The redoubtable defender, without pausing for so much as a moment's contemplation, conceded that he did. That admission set a tone of high seriousness in the BBC studio.

With Mark Lawrenson understandably hors de combat after the Irish theatrics against Germany, BBC selected a fairly conventional flat back four combination of Hansen, Martin O'Neill, Peter Reid and Lineker for France against Uruguay. Moved by the immensity of the occasion, they sought to identify the core issues, and it was left to Reid, the Premiership manager, to analyse why the French would miss Zidane so much.

" 'E's the playmaker, inn 'e," clarified Reid.

That much was true, but as the discussion warmed up, the team pondered the more cerebral aspects of the occasion.

"I'm confused," declared Hansen with the honesty he was famed for in his playing days. "Is it Your-a-guay or Urrr-a-guay? 'Cos I've heard it called both."

Lineker blinked. Peter Reid, who had been blissfully referring to the team as Err-a-gway, just shook his head. Eventually, the issue was kicked to touch but, as has been the recurring theme of this World Cup, the experts had trouble keeping their eye on the ball.

The trio were torn between lingering on the repercussions of the 1-0 win for Cameroon over Saudi Arabia for the Irish and on the imminent tie between England and Argentina.

They decided to "go live" to Trevor Brooking, who was standing in the futuristic dome in Sapporo where England and Argentina will go at it today.

"What's it like, Trev?" asked Lineker, trying to lighten the mood.

As Trev was the only human in the place, we could all see what it was like. Dome-shaped and empty, with a perfect pitch in the centre.

"It's a bit weird," admitted Trevor. "I feel like I'm at a pop concert. I am waiting for the Rolling Stones to come on."

The heart leapt at this sentence, surely the death knell for those ever-rolling Stones. If Trev fits in the current demographic group of the wild boys of rock, it is surely time to call it a day.

We watched as images of Trevor beaming proudly at us from Sapporo held the studio transfixed. Nobody could quite think of anything to say. Trevor's colleagues had obviously never thought of him as a sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll kind of man before. It is safe to assume they never considered him as anything other than a conscientious believer in the 4-4-2 formation. Trev had, it seemed, found his inner self in Japan.

"Talk About My Generation," Trev prompted. Still no go. It was a bad moment. We believe he came within seconds of bursting into a Jaggeresque solo routine. They moved him on to safer ground and he revealed he was heading off to dinner with John Motson. After a glimpse of the rock beast that rages within Brooking, this was a disheartening conclusion. Dinner with Motty.

"The old boy looks great, doesn't he," enthused Hansen. "Old Brooking."

Martin O'Neill, lost in the semantics of the Uruguay proposition, couldn't let this one slide.

"I, actually, I think he's gained a little around the midriff."

It was a reasonable point - Trev will certainly do well to fit into a pair of Keith Richard's drainpipes - but the core issue was once again sidelined. The boys had forgotten about the football.

All kinds of things were happening on the field. The French were deserting en masse. Frank Leboeuf, whose presence on the national side has divided the country, acquiesced to calls for his removal by walking off with an injury. Thierry Henry got himself sent off. Tackles flew in. "It's almost X-rated at times," mused Lineker, possibly distracted by the secret life of Trevor Brooking.

Gathering themselves, the experts knocked their heads together and came up with a viable solution for the French. Peter Reid first pointed out what wouldn't do. "You can't tackle like that," he blasted with the Thierry replay. "And you can't raise your hands like that in football," he scolded when Emmanuel Petit got stroppy with one of the Erragwayans.

The rock and roll lifestyle was all very well, but when it came down to it the experts were certain they had the perfect tonic. "Discipline," rapped Hansen.

"Keep some discipline," urged O'Neill. "Let's sort this out."

"Discipline," murmured Lineker, nodding sagely.

It is a word he has heard before in the BBC studio and one that will come up again before the tournament is out.

Over on RTÉ everybody was happy. Big Tony Cascarino was championing a call-up for his old sparring partner, Big Niall Quinn. Wee Ray Houghton was happily agreeing. Bill O'Herlihy was clearly ecstatic that all his loved ones were getting along so famously.

Football. It is - as the experts will frequently remind us over the next three weeks - a funny old game.