Throw an American a ball and he'll do anything rather than kick it.

His first instinct will be to start bouncing it on the ground and then attempt to fire it up into the air at a tiny circular goal made out of string. Or he might squash it out of shape and start playing some hideously overcomplicated game that looks like a form of tight-trousered rugby.

It is even possible that he'll take the ball, compress it into a disc the size of a bar of soap and slap it around the nearest ice rink, colliding with his armour plated buddies and spitting blood and teeth all over the place. Obviously, hitting balls with sticks is also much encouraged.

Your American pal will indeed move mountains to avoid doing the most simple and best thing to do with it, i.e. kick it around on a big oblong field trying to get it into a large but mysteriously elusive net.

Yes Yanks need their own sports in much the same way that they need their own word for sweets. This desire to invent games that no-one else likes may be related to a fundamental aspect of the country: the paranoid desire Americans have to only get involved in anything if there's a good chance that they are guaranteed victory over everyone and everything everywhere at all times.

Anyway, whatever the cause, the effect can be seen and felt all over America: total and utter indifference to Euro 2000. There's literally nothing in the papers, on the telly on the radio. This fortnight's ESPN magazine devotes approximately 300 words out of its 138 pages to the world's third largest sporting event. That's about as much as this column so far. In fact with this sentence, this article now exceeds total U.S. comment on the whole affair.

It's far too easy to accuse Americans of blind, unheeding insularity when it comes to life outside the fifty states. On the other hand, when it comes to football they're Stevie Wonder on South Georgia with earplugs in.

Some say there is evidence that this state of affairs is changing. Apparently, young American boys are now taking up soccer rather than baseball because, as American girls have known for years, football is the best game to play in the world ever.

Secondly of course, money is getting involved. It already appears that American firms - Coke, Kodak, Mars etc - are trying to take over world football. In fact an alien observing the decorations around the pitches at all the sport's biggest games could be forgiven for thinking that the sport he's watching is called Snickers.

This money is being put behind fuelling MLS, America's weedy 12 team national league. The national team's 'mission statement' (don't scoff yet) is to win the World Cup by 2010 (scoff now). At this point, some people here might drag their eyes away from the basketball for ten minutes.

In the meantime however, all of America is quiet. I've tried telling people here my killer facts, to no effect: if you tell them that the third biggest sporting event on earth is about to commence in the Low Countries, they assume Shaquille O'Neal's taking a mini-break in Antwerp.

If you say that something taking place in Europe in the next month will be the biggest single Internet event EVER, they just assume that some European has persuaded Pam and Tommy to broadcast their sequel on his website.

But who cares about this indifference? Expats, that's who.

Partly because we can tell that everything's warming up nicely over there and we feel we're missing out. (Imagine a pre-tournament period without office sweeps, wall charts and novelty figurines in cereal boxes.)

Mainly because none of the cable channels were sufficiently interested to buy the rights, so a satellite broadcaster stepped in and now if you want to watch any game you'll end up paying about fifteen quid for the privilege. Small price to pay for England vs Portugal, pushing it a little for Denmark vs Czech Republic.

But despite the hardship, bars will show the games and the people will come. Portuguese, Italians, Danes, Englishmen, Scots (oops, sorry they didn't make it did they?) will spend their afternoons in New York bars in partisan colours getting deeply exercised about ancient conflicts.

In fact maybe that's it. Maybe Americans think that the whole thing is some kind of elaborate way of playing out old wars: Yugoslavia vs Slovenia, Norway vs Spain, Belgium vs Sweden (oh I'm sure they've been involved in a war against each other at some point in the last 4000 years).

So our hosts won't bother us because they just assume it's none of their business, some trouble they don't quite understand.

They will in fact be driven out of the same bars by all the cheers and groans thinking 'England vs Germany? Didn't we win that one for 'em already? Let's shoot some hoops'

•  Damian Lanigan's novel Stretch, 29 is published on 19 June; you can already order it at Amazon.co.uk. On the day of publication, Damian will be trying manfully to find a TV showing Italy v Sweden.