After an impressive display of ‘sexypass keepaway fancy-footwork but no-finish’, Spain switched gears. In the 73rd minute Carles ‘the Lion’ Puyol thundered in a terrifying header to lead his side to a 1-0 victory over a German team that had walked over most of their competition in this tournament.

Now it’s straight on to the final: Holland vs Spain. Two teams who have never before won the World Cup. Which means there’s going to be a brand new name on the trophy. That’s exciting! Plus, both teams play exciting and creative football – so we should be in for 90 minutes of free-flowing football.

It’s everything the discerning football fan could want. Unless of course you’re from France, Germany, Ghana, Italy, Uruguay, North Korea, England or any other country that got knocked out of the tournament. But suck it up, losers and get ready for a very colourful Roja vs Oranje final.

It’s the kind of story the neutral fan dreams of, full of talented well-managed teams and great storylines.

  • They have never before played each other competitively. (I know, how the fuck did that happen?)
  • It will be a showpiece of masterful attacking football. Total football.
  • Spain are sliiiight favourites. But a team has never captured the World Cup after losing the first game of the tournament.
  • Arguably the best performer at this world Cup has been an octopus
  • Each team is carrying a super-talented megastar who has been sucking like a shop-vac all tournament (Torres and van Persie, respectively)

The problem is that watching as a neutral supporter is never even remotely as exciting as throwing your support behind one of them. The problem is that both of these teams are so likable – they both play attractive football, neither has won the tournament before, and they both lack the douchiness of say, Uruguay, the hubris of Argentina, or the entitlement of England. One possible complaint could be the collapsible Arjen Robben; the skilled Dutch midfielder who crumples way too frequently. So I suppose the edge is in favour of Spain.

But, I’m sorry, Spain. Thanks to my Dutch history (a glorious year living in Amsterdam cultivating my love of oranges and stroopwaffels), I’ll be hupping Holland all the way. If Robben goes down at the slightest provocation, I’ll be screaming for a foul loud as anyone. Let the build-up build.