Eins, zwei, drei . . . Germans do a number on David Louise and co

Brazil v Germany. A World Cup pairing of gargantuan, historical proportions, just the eight titles between them, endless epic encounters, and this, surely, would be another, one that we would still be tweeting about in half a century . . .

Skip to the start of the second half: "Eins, zwei, drei, vier," said the BBC's Steve Wilson, before adding what at first sounded a bit like a Dunphyism, but the sharp of hearing reassured us he'd actually said "funked".

By then the cyber machine known as the internet was filling up with photos of Christ the Redeemer with His head in his hands, while our screens were jammed with the sight of bawling Brazilians in Belo Horizonte, one of them cradling a World Cup trophy replica, knowing it was the closest he'd get to squeezing the real thing in 2014.

And the crying children. Ah now stop. Enough.

"Surreal, absolutely surreal," said Trevor Steven over on RTÉ when the third went in.

Or was it the fourth?

Or fifth?

That we were losing count was surreal. Absolutely surreal, like.

By the time the next one arrived you just knew headline writers the world over were fearing a seventh, denying them that “Joy of Six” opportunity. Wait. Okay: “Seventh Heaven”. Mindblowing.

Before the game we’d had a brief rerun of the “is this the worst Brazil side ever?” debate, by the 29th minute of the first half the debate was over, really.

Mullered.

And Thomas, as luck would have it, opened the floodgates, Martin Keown later likening him to a rash, which he actually meant as a good thing.

Frock threat

“Liam and I have already picked out the dress, we’ve put a deposit on it,” Gilesie had told Billo before we kicked off, sensing that Eamon’s second ‘I’ll wear a frock’ threat of the tournament might just come to pass, but the latter boldly reassured his host. “Don’t worry Bill, Brazil won’t win it.”

The goalkeeper? “If you get a free transfer from QPR you shouldn’t be playing in the World Cup finals.”

The front lads? “Hulk hasn’t kicked a ball, Fred is an embarrassment.”

Like Miroslav Klose, then, Eamon made World Cup history by getting it right.

That first half. Madness. Near the end of it George Hamilton told us that Brazil had actually had more possession, but much of it had, frankly, been spent picking the ball out of the net. "The feeling will be much as it was in Dublin on that Friday night," he said. The memory of that 6-1 defeat hardly comforted us, and certainly wouldn't have comforted the Brazilians, even if it did create an everlasting footballing bond of pain between us.

Half-time. Billo: “What in God’s name has gone wrong?”

Lost deposit

A good question, but the panel, while always insisting Brazil were a bit rubbishy, were at a loss to actually explain why they were even rubbisher than they previously suspected. And Gilesie and Liamo looked downcast, possibly because, like Brazil, they’d lost their deposit.

And next season, when your beloved team is being trounced, prepare yourself for the cruel, heartless opposing fans’ crooning of “it’s just like watching Brazil”.

Billo: “They’re hopeless aren’t they?”

Eamon: “They are, yeah.”

Meanwhile, Gilesie was laying the blaming largely at the feet of David Louise, while Neymar, tuning in at home, looked on the bright side of having a banjaxed vertebra.

Back on the Beeb.

"In your lifetime have you seen such a capitulation like that," asked Gary Lineker, and Rio Ferdinand, who played in Manchester United's 6-1 setback against Manchester City at Old Trafford in 2011, shook his head.

"In the annals of time, there's never been a game like this," said Alan Hansen, Rio now nodding, "it's so bad, it's embarrassing. But Hansen, like Gilesie, was inclined to point the finger at poor old Louise – "he has abandoned ship!"

But that attack was a severe let down in the second half, just adding the two, which almost sent Louise on a lap of honour.

Crazy, wacky, weird and slightly marvellous stuff.

As Gary Lineker put it: “This was Brazil, for crying out loud.”

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben. Gute Gott.