THIS COULD YET BE THE WORLD CUP OF THE AMERICAS

First, a word of reassurance for Roy Hodgson. The Amazon, where he has never been, is not as bad as he – having, just to be clear, never been there – seems to think. It was a given from the moment Hodgson voiced some mild concerns about Amazonian humidity, thereby incurring the delightfully outspoken wrath of the mayor of Manaus, that England would be drawn to play at least one of their matches in Brazil's interior at next year's World Cup. And so they will, having drawn Italy first up in the vast illuminated crocodile-skin lozenge that is the brand new 40,000 capacity Arena Amazonia. After the draw Hodgson appeared before the BBC television cameras looking gloomily resigned to making the best of England's 3,000-mile round trip into the heart of darkness. “I'm optimistic,” England's manager said, looking wan, pale, fretful and generally drained of all hope, and continuing to bring to mind, surprisingly given his own safari-suited air of cosmopolitanism, the kind of Englishman who goes on holiday with a suitcase full of baked beans and a flyswat.

Some words of reassurance then. Yes, Roy, Manaus is hot. But then everywhere is hot. The world is hot. Weather happens. Manaus, happily also has roads and pavement and air conditioning. It has running water and five star hotels. It has a McDonalds, which is rated “sempre uma delicia!” on Tripadvisor, which means “always a delicious”. It has a biro factory What could possibly go wrong?

Of course, in reality quite a lot can go wrong. It was telling that really Hodgson' meteorological concerns about Manaus were oddly specific. It's the humidity you see. England can't be expected to play in humidity – and for tactical reasons. After all if your game, pretty much alone among major footballing nations, is based above all else on running around a lot, on explosive bursts of energy rather than – say – craft or guile or accuracy, then how can you be expected to play somewhere sweaty?

It is of course a thoroughly depressing, albeit thoroughly predictable English response to what is a recurrent tournament experience. Drained by chasing shadows, England exit again in tears, legs run down to the knees, denied the ball by more technically skilled opponents Next time, though, we'll be ready. We'll prepare. What we'll do is we'll hope it's not quite so hot. So we can run around a bit more.

Never mind that Italy also passed England into the ground at Euro 2012 on a chilly night in Kiev. And never mind that, when you find yourself spending 40 years increasingly out-skilled and outmanoeuvred by teams of similar historical standing and resources, perhaps the problem isn't really the weather at all.

Still, this is England, where the music always remains the same, and where for once the same old problems actually point, quite conveniently, towards some wider patterns in the lead up to Brazil 2014. The first South American World Cup since Argentina 1978, and indeed only the second South American World Cup in the last 50 years, Brazil 2014 arrives at a salutary moment in football's global evolution In the eight years since the last European World Cup the triumph of a more refined, less concussive, more possession-based style of football has been profound and far-reaching, albeit not without its own paradoxical notes. Since 2006 – summer of the first of three Barcelona champions League victories in that period - the age of tiki-taka has been and now gone in Europe, albeit Spain still hold the World Cup and are double Euros winners. A possession-based Bayern Munich team have played in three of the last four Champions League finals and are currently the best club side in the world. Beyond which the ripples are felt everywhere: there isn't a hotly-coveted young midfielder anywhere game isn't based around craft rather than explosion, on keeping rather than - in the traditional northern European style – battering, hoofing, chasing, flicking and generally mistreating the ball.

And so to South america, at last. If this stylistic triumph, the rise of Humidity Football is in effect South American in nature, then it is largely southern European in its implementation. Let's face it, the triumph of European football over South America is evident on pretty much every level. Economically European club football dominates as it always has, driven on by the Champions League, groaning TV revenues, and the incursions of carbon-rich billionaires. In terms of stockpiling global talent reserves, the balance is entirely in Europe's favour, with even the fact Neymar managed to resist making his move to Barcelona until he was 23 seen as something of a triumph for the old country. Internationally too Europe wins: South America has provided just one quarter finalist at the last two World Cups. In terms of tournaments won the scoreline since 1978 reads Europe 4 South America 2, with only Brazil keeping football's second continent in the hunt.

And yes, in terms of its prevailing tempo and texture football has swung towards what has been for decades a traditionally South American style, both in terms of ball retention and the reliance on moments of individual inspiration to combat high intensity defensive systems. Surely this, at last, is a moment for South America to strike back and reclaim some ground on the grandest stage. If there is hope it comes in three areas. Firstly there are no real South American duds at this World Cup. Brazil will be strong favourites, never mind the giddily fine attributes of Spain, Germany and Argentina. Setting your sights on Brazil in a home World Cup is up there with entering the death star unarmed and attempting to take out Darth Vader with a with a sock full of billiard balls. You're always in with a shout. But it's going to take a particular alignment of the planets. The default option, all things being equal – and let us not forget their vibrant, furious, righteous demolition of Spain in the Confederations Cup final – is that Brazil win. Beyond that Chile are genuine semi-final outsiders. Colombia will expect to reach the last four. Argentina have a forward line as good as anything seen at the world Cup for the last three decades in Lionel Messi and Sergio Aguero. Uruguay needed a playoff to get there, as usual, but they will be half-at-home and have a malevolent genius playing up front. Ecuador, the weakest link, won't get to play any of their matches in Quito, but they can score against anybody. Chuck in continental home advantage and it is without doubt the best hand South America have had at a World Cup in a long time. Plus the draw generally has been kind. Brazil and Mexico are obvious favourites to get out of Group A. Chile have it in them to surprise a Netherlands team that has declined since the last World Cup and qualify behind Spain (they are helped too by the way the fixtures fall). Colombia will get out of Group C ahead of Ivory Coast. Uruguay and Italy will nudge ahead of poor old sweating, stumbling, horribly thirsty England in the jungle hell (note: not actually a jungle hell) of Manaus. And Ecuador have as much chance as anyone in Group F.

There is for once a genuinely concerted hand to play here. Plus, beyond the strength in depth there is the enduring fact of sustained South American incursion at the very top end of European club football, pinnacle of the modern game. Europe may own the means of production here, but South America continues to supply plenty of raw material. Since the turn of the century only one team – Liverpool in 2005 – has managed to win the Champions League without at least one Brazilian, in which time Brazilians and Argentines have appeared in the final 58 times. They've got the personnel. They've got the Humidity Football style. And they've got home advantage, finally, not to mention a sense of historic international drift that is felt keenly. Never mind the odds, or the prevailing historic momentum. This could yet be the World Cup of the Americas.