Diary / Jonathan Wilson / 27 June 2008 / Leave a comment

With the freshness of the new Euro powers gone, Jonathan Wilson is grateful for his mac as the tournament erupts into a famailiar finish.

The daily pattern now seems set. Each day starts with a suggestion of freshness in the air, grows gradually hotter and more humid, and then, finally, in the early evening erupts into ferocious thunderstorms.

Last night's rain was probably the less violent than that on either of the days that preceded it, but it was still enough to make you grateful for the official Uefa ponchos distributed to the press when similar rain threatened in Basel. I may have given Uefa a good slagging over the past few days, but when it comes to providing clear plastic rainwear, they do a splendid job.

You do wonder as well whether the weather provides a metaphor for the tournament. It began with freshness, with the likes of Croatia and Russia impressing, but the longer it's gone on the more it seems to be building to the familiar finish of a German victory [2.42].

I tipped them (to beat Italy in the final) before the tournament began, but if you'd asked me why, I'm afraid my answer wouldn't have been much more sophisticated than "because they always do". Morale, I felt, had been raised by the successes - on and off field - of the last World Cup; I'd been impressed by what I'd seen of Joachim Low, and I thought that in a German-speaking country with thousands of fans sure to pour across the border, they'd effectively be playing at home.

What I hadn't quite anticipated was the antipathy of the Austrians to their northern neighbours, which only became apparent ahead of that final group game when Austria could have put Germany out. Suddenly everybody was talking about Cordoba and the Hans Krankl-inspired 3-2 win that eliminated Germany from the 1978 World Cup; nobody has yet satisfactorily explained why, four years later, they were prepared to lie down for the Germans in Gijon.

The Germans may not even have been the most numerous fans - that accolade, I suspect, goes to either the Dutch or the Croatians, but they have been loud and assertive, and they have developed a solid rapport with the team, as was shown after the semi-final, when players and fans joined in a strange children's-party style of dance that involves everybody standing up and sitting down in unison.

All of which musing, of course, is just a way for me to avoid talking about Russia, who were utterly and deservedly beaten by Spain [1.69 for the tournament] last night. Perhaps if Iker Casillas hadn't made that extraordinary save from Roman Pavlyuchenko midway through the first half... but he did and, having fallen behind, Russia lacked either the drive or the imagination to do anything about it.

So those of us who have written of Russia in glowing terms wake up this morning to find the hate-mobs on the bogs out in force. And you do, inevitably, wonder whether you did get too carried away. Did I overpraise Russia? Did I speak too highly of Andrei Arshavin?

On reflection, looking back at everything I've written for various outlets in the tournament and said on various radio stations and podcasts, I think my only real mistake was to under-rate Pavlyuchenko.

Russia were magnificent against Sweden, and I said as much while noting it was only Sweden. I'd been a little more cautious in praising Holland, questioning whether they were really that good at the back, but still, those who dismiss Russia's win over Holland as simply an example of the Dutch playing badly surely miss the point. Yes, Marco van Basten was tactically outwitted, and yes the Dutch looked sluggish in midfield, but to deny Russia credit for overcoming them with such vibrant football seems unduly churlish. To hail that performance as one of the greatest in modern international football is still, I think, a legitimate. After all, did England play well when Hungary passed them into the ground in 1953? Were Argentina at their best when Holland destroyed them in 1974? Of course not.

That Spain then beat Russia so comfortably is then testament to two things: firstly, how good Spain are; and secondly, how fragile Russian remains and, perhaps, how brittle any brilliance is. After all, if it were easy, everybody would be playing like that.

Tags: Andrei Arshavin, Croatia, Euro 2008 Betting, France, Germany, Holland, Iker Casillas, Marco Van Basten, Roman Pavlyuchenko, Russia, Spain, Sweden