Brazil v England: it might not be finished but the Maracana is still the best stadium in the world Even the sight of so much construction work still going on outside the stadium cannot stop the adrenalin shot felt by the visitor. It's the Maracana. It's Pele, whose No 10 shirt adorns the museum. It's the slightly grainy photographs of Garrincha making those sudden changes of direction to bemuse defenders. It's what football is supposed to be about, the fans and the glory. Tickets for the grand reopening have sold well, partly because England remain a draw for historical reasons, partly to see whether Oscar, Neymar and David Luiz can blend their individual talents into a collective force (but they so need a finisher of the Romario, Ronaldo or Pele stature) and also because of a reverence for the Maracana. The sound of the Maracana's turnstiles clicking today provides a welcome opportunity to contemplate what makes a stadium special. It came as little surprise to learn from Juventus officials that the architects behind their exquisite new abode, a welcome successor to the tired Stadio delle Alpi, were football fans. They understood the need for intimacy, proximity to the pitch and intensity. They have delivered with the Juventus Stadium, barring some annoying cables that slightly disfigure the view. Strength of support like Juventus's and significance of occasion are patently two of the key ingredients giving a ground that unforgettable feel. Although Anfield regulars quietly note a slight decline in atmosphere, few have equalled Liverpool's extraordinary European evenings against Roma (with Gérard Houllier returning from illness and the slightly disrespectful post-match rendition of Arrivederci Roma) and the 2005 Luis García "ghost goal" semi-final against an irate Jose Mourinho and Chelsea. Older Liverpool fans still talk wistfully of the Kop's wall of sound keeping out Eidur Gudjohnsen's late effort, being on a par with the decibel level reached when David Fairclough scored one of his super-sub specials against St-Etienne in 1977. It is a short step from the fields of Anfield Road to Celtic Park at its impassioned best when swaying to The Fields of Athenry. Those present at Celtic in 1989 still reflect emotionally on the moment a grieving Liverpool took their first steps back towards playing after Hillsborough. The combined singing of You'll Never Walk Alone is still recalled by Kenny Dalglish and his players that day. Any list of the world's most renowned footballing venues would be discredited if not naming Celtic Park and Anfield prominently. Many others vie for inclusion. Sadly, the presence of a small group of racists in one corner of the Mestalla has always tainted this observer's view of Valencia's otherwise stirring habitat. Steep stands comply with one of the main rules of a good stadium. For those who judge grounds on proximity to decent watering holes, the bar belonging to Manolo, El Bombo de Espana, is to be recommended. It's worth a visit for the photographs, let alone the refuelling capacities. Just don't overindulge and miss kick-off over the road. Up the road in Barcelona, Camp Nou's history, noise and design demand inclusion in any celebration of classic arenas. More contentiously, so does the San Paolo in Naples, undermining the argument that running tracks dilute atmospheres. Inside the home dressing-room are huge photographs of Napoli's tifosi as if to remind the players of the club's heartbeat. Even internationals there can assault the eardrums. I covered Cameroon's extra-time win over Colombia at Italia 90 and the atmosphere generated by the 50,026 was phenomenal, especially when Milla preyed on Rene Higuita's "mistake as big as a house." San Paolo has an edge to it. So did the old Ali Sami Yen during its "Welcome to Hell" years. Similar ferocity can be found in the Stade Vélodrome of Marseille. De Kuip in Rotterdam can be crazy at times. Sometimes new grounds are slaves to architects" grand designs rather than the requirements of fans. The best accommodate both elements. For this son of an architect, Munich's space-age Allianz Arena is second only to the Maracana as the world's top stadium. Not many Bayern supporters miss their old Olympic Stadium home. As a schoolboy, I had the good fortune to spend time in Munich and watched the Bayern team of Karl-Heinz Rummenigge at the Olympic Stadium. The running track dampened the sound but it still had an aura. Yet it still cannot challenge the Allianz, particularly when lit at night. The match-day experience is further enhanced by the walk up from the U-Bahn, fans seemingly on a pilgrimage to some elevated shrine. Bundesliga boasts some great stadiums, and Borussia Dortmund's Westfalenstadion eclipses even the Allianz for atmosphere but never beauty. The fabulous spruced-up home of South African football, Soccer City on the edge of Soweto, needs acknowledging in any discussion of the world's leading footballing structures. Even the old version was good. When Bafana Bafana qualified for France 98 with Phil Masinga's goal over the Republic of Congo, I have rarely witnessed such an explosion of joy, the fans gleefully invading the pitch. The press box had long been commandeered. Sometimes, unique sights shape people's perception of a stadium; Nelson Mandela's arrival on the pitch before the 2010 World Cup final was arguably more memorable than the game itself. Soccer City has always been about more than football. Also deserving of honourable mentions are Riazor, Bernabéu, St James" Park in Newcastle, the Millennium in Cardiff and Porto's Estadio do Dragao. Employing a good DJ helps. The Premier League will miss the Northern Soul record collection of the DW DJ. Fans make the most important sounds, though, and it will be instructive listening to Brazilian supporters in the peerless Maracana. Winter's other favourite grounds Allianz Arena A space-age, elevated shrine, lit up at night. Anfield Few atmospheres equal Liverpool's European evenings. Nou Camp History, noise and design demand inclusion. Celtic Park At impassioned best when swaying to Fields of Athenry.