GERMANY versus the Czech Republic. Pulses racing? Blood rushing? Let's be honest, hardly. Perhaps it's best that way but the presence of the Czechs, especially, is not a particularly stirring prospect, though it is somehow fitting.
Sure, they have struck a few blows for the underdog, and taken with them the romantic air of the no hopers, partying all night and all that. A pity though, that they didn't take this cavalier attitude on to the pitch.
Increasingly, east European teams do little for this observer. With their attacking instincts and thrilling skills Russia had the makings of an exception. But so many just seem to come off a conveyor belt of essentially counterattacking, defensive teams.
A final between Germany and the Brazilian like boys of summer from Portugal would have held far more promise. Even a Germany France final would have had far more resonance to it, and held the prospect of a more balanced, attacking encounter.
That we don't have either is down to the Czechs ability to lay down a blanket of usually nine outfield players in their third of the pitch, and send out the occasional raiding party of no more than three or four players to strike on the break.
Without recourse to the penalty shoot out, there would be little long term future in it, but with it the Czechs, it seemed to me, quite brazenly played for the 50-50 chance that penalties offered them.
True, of course, the far more progressive Portuguese failed miserably to break them down and so, did the marginally less frustrating French. In many ways, Wednesday afternoon's bleaker semi final was a more accurate barometer of Euro 96 than the atmospheric, gung ho attacking thrusts and counter thrusts of extra time at Wembley.
The Golden Goal, as we've said before, is partially to blame there hasn't been one in the four of the six knock out ties which went to extra time and were thus ultimately resolved by penalties. Prohibitive pricing, ticket organisation and the island mentality which resulted in vast swathes of empty seats everywhere outside Wembley have also been culpable. From Tolka Park to Old Trafford games need atmosphere.
But most disappointing of all has been the inability of ostensibly superior sides to pierce defence minded teams. These, games, played to half empty backdrops, have been the abiding memory of Euro 96. And, aside from the unwillingness of teams to gamble on pushing defenders or even midfielders forward, here we come to the chronically poor standard of finishing.
Missed opportunities, sometimes glaring ones, have proliferated, which prompted Franz Beckenbauer to pinpoint a worrying crisis in the European game last week.
"When think of the chances Casiraghi put over the bar (in the last minute against the Czechs) or of the opportunities that Hottiger and McCoist missed in the Scotland Switzerland game I am convinced there is a striker problem throughout Europe. The use of chances so far has been catastrophic.
The one exception he highlighted was England's high class finishing in the 4-1 defeat of Holland: "A fantastic example of the importance of taking your chances, because the Dutch actually had more openings on goal."
Indeed, this is true, Dennis Bergkamp being less than his clinical self in that and other games. Perhaps had Patrick Kluivert been fully fit both Dutch masters' would have treated us to their finishing repertoires and inherited the mantle of Marco Van Basten. He, it was, who set Euro 88 apart, since when the paucity of good strikers has been, well, striking.
Alan Shearer, something of a traditional English number nine, with his powerful right shot aerial prowess and willingness to trample over his granny for a chance, has undoubtedly been the striker of the tournament. His five goals set him apart, no one else has more than three and unless Juergen Klinsmann performs a medical miracle and weighs in with a hat trick on Saturday the esteemed football writer Paddy Barclay can collect on his investment of £25 on Shearer to be leading scorer at 12 to 1.
My own wager was on Dayor Suker, and here the disappointment lay more with his manager for omitting Suker and six others from the Portuguese game, thereby possibly denying Suker two or more games (presuming they had avoided the Germans and beaten the Czechs) to grace the tournament.
Suker it was who came closest to inheriting the legacy of Michel Platini in 84 and Marco Van Basten in 88, and gave us the moments of the tournament. The Pele like attempt to beat Peter Schmeichel from almost halfway, struck with such precision that the great Dane memorably acknowledged it. The ensuing chip over Schmeichel and the roll of the ball with the sole of his foot which left Andrea Kdpke on his rear in the quarter final set Suker apart.
Elsewhere, excepting the thoroughly dislikable Hristo Stoichkov (three goals in three games, and the only one to convert a free kick in the entire tournament) this was a particularly non vintage tournament for the specialist goalscorers.
Alas, Beckenbauer did not expound any theory on this shortcoming. Our own Mark Lawrenson has put forward the notion that maybe it is because, football's national barriers have come down like never before, and everyone knows everything about everyone else.
Perhaps it's just one of those things. Like much in football, sometimes strikers come in waves, sometimes the tide is out. But these have been disappointingly calm waters.
