Euro 2008 - An Armchair Blog - Final Eve

So here we are. The eve of the 2008 European Championships cup final. Germany vs. Spain. Which, surprisingly, is not the most mouth watering fixture in my eyes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they are two class teams, but Germany have played some very poor football, and Spain’s game against Italy was awful. The final could end up being similar to Chelsea and Man U’s FA Cup final the season before last, with two teams more scared of losing than desperate to win. That would be a tragedy.

I’m remaining optimistic and expecting to see a great game. The tournament has got better and better as it has progressed (although that Spain vs. Italy quarter final was an anomaly) and I don’t see the final letting us down. Spain’s attack has the potential to slice through Germany’s shocking defence with ease, but Germany’s counter and determination should make sure they don’t go down easily.

If Spain start Fabregas and stop Germany pressing that Podolski-Schweinsteiger quick-goal button they should have the advantage. They play the much more attractive football, and definitely deserve it more, given that Germany scraped out of a not-too-difficult group and then not so easily past the poor old Turks (never thought I’d say that).

That said, Germany are that team aren’t they. You know the team that just manage to win everything, even if they don’t look like they can or deserve to. That is why YOU SHOULD NEVER WRITE OFF THE GERMANS.

Greece won the tournament last time under exactly the same circumstances, although when applying the lovely technique of juxtaposition, Germany’s defence looks like a bunch of pigeons getting in each others way as they squabble over a dropped chip, and Greece’s, funnily enough, looks like the Spartans from 300 with Dellas screaming ‘This is Sparta!’.

I will stick by my Germans. They have brought me this far, further than England have ever brought me in a tournament might I add. So thank you Germany. Thank you for showing me what it might be like to progress to the final of a tournament. Even if you fall at the last hurdle, I will still love you...I’ll just hate Spain.