On June 12 in São Paulo, Croatia and Brazil will sing their anthems, shake one anothers' hands, and kick off the 20th World Cup. One month and 64 games later, a sweaty man wearing an armband and a weary smile will lift the world's most famous trophy into the Rio de Janeiro sky, and the watching world will sit back, take a breath, and then resume normal life. The World Cup is nearly here. Those of you who have been watching these for a while know what's coming. Those of you who are here for the first time, prepare to be consumed.

Last time the tournament was held in Brazil, in 1950, a mere 13 teams turned up. The World Cup was contested without any interest from Africa or Oceania, and only India represented Asia. Coverage was sporadic and patchy, results were transmitted back to the competing nations by telegram, and the report of the final in the Times of London — Uruguay overcame a prematurely celebrating host nation to steal the trophy in the final game — ran to precisely 61 words.

This time, 32 teams have traveled, and it is a truly global tournament. All the previous winners are here — Brazil, Uruguay, Argentina, Germany, Italy, France, England and the current holders Spain — along with one debutant, Bosnia and Herzegovina. FIFA claim that over a billion people watched at least part of the 2010 final, and that nearly half the planet tuned in to to one match or another during the the 2010 tournament. Even if we apply a certain amount of justified skepticism to the precise figures, they are indicative. A fair chunk of the world is watching. A fair chunk of humanity cares.

So far, they've not seen the smoothest of build-ups. FIFA gave the tournament to Brazil in the hope that the World Cup's most successful nation, a country and a population that identifies itself through soccer in a way few others do, would deliver a sun-drenched month of clichéd and photogenic bliss; a month, in other words, of samba, carnival and joga bonito. Instead, the tournament will kick off to scenes of protests in the streets and murmurings of knives in the boardrooms.

The Brazilian population have pressing questions about the priorities of their government, wondering just who, exactly, will benefit from all the money being spent and why, exactly, it doesn't appear to be them. These are strange times for global sporting mega-events — similar if less marked protests preceded South Africa 2010 and the London Olympics in 2012 — and the gratitude of the host populace can no longer be airily presumed. Meanwhile the rest of the world is digesting new revelations about the murky workings of FIFA, as the decision to award the 2022 tournament to Qatar continues its slow and dispiriting procession from 'resoundingly stupid' to 'thoroughly corrupt.'

But it's still the World Cup. It may not get the respect of the moon landing or penicillin, but this competition, in all its planet-uniting attention-grabbing time-consuming glory, is one of humanity's finest and most durable achievements. That durability may well be what lets FIFA get away with being FIFA, but it's also what ensures that the World Cup has so far survived FIFA being FIFA. A poor World Cup is better than almost any of the other months that life will give you. A good one — and some people will tell you that there hasn't been one of those since 1986, even as they sit down to their third group game of the day — is a thing of wonder.

Will this be a good one? It has every chance. The two favorites are each chasing a different version of history. Brazil are looking to stretch their record five victories into a sixth, in the process reinforcing their claim to be this tournament's greatest nation and laying to rest the ghosts of 1950. Holders Spain, for their part, are looking to win a fourth consecutive major trophy, and in the process establish this generation of international players as perhaps the best of all time.

Yet neither is without their weaknesses. Brazil have to cope with unprecedented pressure, and will attempt to avenge the trauma of 1950 with a squad that is largely untested in international tournament soccer. Spain, meanwhile, have two main concerns. Prosaically, there are question marks about the age of parts of their squad, and the depth of other parts. More intriguingly, their distinctive, possession-centered style of play has come under increased scrutiny over the last few years. The last time they played Brazil, in the 2013 Confederations Cup final, they didn't just lose. They got taken to pieces.

But if the favorites stumble, there are plenty of other teams to pick up the slack. Take Argentina, whose Lionel Messi-centered forward line is the stuff of dreams even as their defensive options are the stuff of sleepless nights. Then there’s France, built around the magnificent Paul Pogba, and looking to be hitting form at exactly the right time. Germany’s unreal collection of attacking talent is starting to come under a little pressure to achieve something tangible. Italy are always Italy, even when you least expect it. Meanwhile England … no, probably not England. Probably not.

Then there's stable of dark horses — Belgium, Colombia, the Netherlands, Portugal, maybe even the likes of the USA, Croatia and Japan — who, while unlikely to be bothering the engravers come mid-July, certainly have the capacity to bloody one or two supposedly superior noses. And as ever, there will be a couple of individuals, young or unheralded, who will introduce themselves to an eager world, just as there will be a couple of big names who will fail to live up to the adverts. Reputations will be inflated and broken. Somebody's going to get their move to Real Madrid; somebody else is going to be burned in effigy.

So yes, the ingredients are there for something spectacular. But even if things unfold predictably, or the soccer itself ends up being dominated by the negative, the destructive and the cynical, there is still much to look forward to. World Cups don't just resonate through the years for the eventual results. They aren't just about the grand sweep of soccer’s history. They're about the moments, important or incidental, that stick in your brain for what can often seem like no good reason at all. Funny moments. Silly moments. Shocking moments. Controversial moments. Moments that never lose their appeal despite YouTube, despite clip shows, despite the endless degradations of nostalgia.

Rashidi Yekini shaking the net. Diana Ross and Roberto Baggio. Roger Milla and Nobby Stiles. Fabio Grosso and Marco Tardelli. Ronaldo and Romania's follicular experimentation. The Battles of Santiago and Nuremberg. Harald Schumacher's improvised dentistry. Luis Suarez's dream-slaughtering save. The other Anschluss. Zidane nutting Materazzi to the floor. Rattin being dragged from the pitch. Cameroon assaulting Caniggia. Rivaldo clutching his face. Senegal equalizing with Denmark. Ahn Jung-hwan and Byron Moreno. Jared Borgetti. Saeed Al-Owairan. Lillian Thuram, twice. Dennis Bergkamp. Dennis Bergkamp! DENNIS BERGKAMP!

In short, something (and probably several somethings) will happen over the next few weeks that will stay with you for the rest of your life. If you're lucky, it might be the team you support winning the World Cup; if we're all lucky, it might be a referee taking a ball in the face. It could be funny; it could be sad. For those of you who are new to all this, it might just be the moment you fall in love with soccer. Don't worry. It's quite the most beautiful thing anybody could ever hope to fall in love with.

And when that moment pops back into your head in 10, 20 years' time, you'll be transported right back here, right back to this month, and you'll smile or you'll seethe all over again. You'll be who you were again, just for a second. Soccer isn't just a diversion, and tournaments aren't just tournaments. They provide the reference points by which we navigate our memories. They are the staging posts in the life of the fan. And the World Cup is the best, the biggest and the brightest of them all.

If even one of the names above raises a grin or furrows a brow, then read on. If none of them do, but this all sounds alluring and exciting and just the right side of ridiculous, then read on. We adore this wonderful nonsense, and we really, really want to talk about it. But if not, then we're sorry to say that you're not just in the wrong corner of the internet. You're on the wrong planet. For the next few weeks, this one's ours.

Contributors: Callum Hamilton, Kevin McCauley, Ryan Rosenblatt, Jack Sargeant, Kirsten Schlewitz, Andi Thomas, Zach Woosley.

Editors: Graham MacAree, Kevin McCauley, Jeremiah Oshan, Kirsten Schlewitz.