I say coaches are to blame. In this World Cup, computers and statistics rule, stifling spontaneity in the search for a winning formula.

Many years ago the French author Anatole France wrote: "In art, as in love, instinct suffices whilst science sheds too much light." I say the same goes for football. This is why I wish to pit intuition against science: they are as naturally opposed as freedom and control. Science ruins the instinctive love of the game and seeks universal truth. Intuition, on the other hand belongs to the realm of the individual. However, I do believe that learning football involves a deep, subconscious process stemming from one's birthplace, collective memory and (maybe going a bit far here) one's genes.

In other words a Brazilian kid has a different heritage from an Englishone.

I often think about this when I see the problems England has in civilising its noble, generous yet vulnerable football. It is as if something is getting in between what the players try to do and the way they have been taught to play. They want to give short passes but they are used to playing the long ball; they want to keep the ball on the ground but can't overcome the temptation to cross it; they want to make fine touches but end up hitting the pass too hard; they want to play slowly but their natural reaction is to push hard.

There is, however, another factor involved. The British player is not made for the short game: not only is he unable to change rhythm but he plays the ball predictably, almost always telegraphing the pass. But we coaches always try to project a style - we think all players are able to do what we once did - and in his day Glenn Hoddle was the passer par excellence of the English game. I like people who give it a go and I think it's possible to love the way Liverpool play, butthe quickest way to break the dichotomy between the old ways and Hoddle's approach is to play the youngsters: Scholes, Beckham, McManaman, Owen . . . technique and nerve to set the revolution rolling.

The game of football should never be allowed to become an exact science. I wonder what goes on inside the heads of Roberto Baggio, Overmars or Zidane in the middle of a match? They are bombarded by sensations, ideas, tricks hiding their intentions, and all this cloaked by a mixture of pleasure, pride and vanity. Can all this happen in a few seconds? Can that mental chaos lead to well-orchestrated play? Yes, of course it can, although to set the creative process off the player has to be allowed to play. If he takes the field just to follow the coach's instructions, to close down space, to pass the ball mechanically, the great footballer becomes mediocre, and mediocrity ends up being valuable. England has a taste for imported talents whom nobody, thankfully, managed to tame: Ardiles, Cantona, Bergkamp. AndEnglish fans talk of Best, Waddle and Le Tissier with pride. Each country plays the football its people want.

The time has come to choose between science or instinct: Norway or Nigeria, you decide. I'm backing Holland.

Jorge Valdano, former Argentine star, was part of the World Cup winning team in 1986, and scored a goal in the final.