Despite the many pleasant surprises of the Euro 2012 group stages – goals! Headers! Quavering uncertainty! – there is still a widespread suspicion that events to date may have been simply an enjoyable entrée for the gathering certainties of the final week. Germany play Greece in their quarter-final in Gdansk on Friday propelled, not just by a perfect record in Group B but also by a swell of conviction that Joachim Löw's team are destined to be the final obstacle in Spain's pursuit of an unprecedented three consecutive tournament victories.

It is a fascinating prospect in more ways than one. Greece will provide the first of several sizeable obstacles on the way, including for Germany a potential meeting with England in Warsaw, but should both teams be present in Kiev a week on Sunday, Euro 2012 could provide an unusually gripping final: a meeting not only of the two best teams on show, but also of competing methodologies – two different but equally seductive notions how football should be played. Spain, the masters of the pass, against a Germany team built around the notion of football, in Löw's words, as a sport "defined by a succession of sprints". It is as though these teams have taken the basic bonded elements of "football" and split them in two: Spain the team of ball; Germany of the foot.

Much less has been written about Germany's style than that of Spain but elements of Löw's approach seem equally distinctive. It is important to stress this is not running for running's sake. Germany are studiously mobile, imposing themselves not by miles covered but by concerted bursts of movement. As Löw said recently: "Traditionally it has been interpreted to say that the team who runs more wins the game. Our analysis, though, has shown that view is too superficial. Our focus now is on what kind of sprints players make, where they do it, how they do it and in what direction."

Run, then but run smart. It can be an intoxicating spectacle. At times during the first half against Denmark in Lviv Germany resembled the Australia rugby league team, so imposing were the conjoined thrusts of Philipp Lahm and Lukas Podolski down the German left, with Lahm in particular intimidatingly fearless in possession. Germany could easily have scored three times and afterwards Löw was characteristically tetchy about their inability to "kill" in that period. It was the more controlled and less adrenal advances of the second half, capped by Lars Bender's counterattacking goal, that pleased him more.

Perhaps one key to Germany's style, as with Spain's remarkable passing rhythms, is a settled team. There had been speculation Löw might rotate his players against Denmark but this goes counter to the hard-won chemistry of small well-grooved units functioning together across the pitch. Aside from Podolski and Lahm, the established front three move with a mutually empowering fluidity. Even the selection of Bender as cover at right-back speaks to Löw's sprint-football ideology: at Bayer Leverkusen Bender plays as a highly mobile midfielder.

The forward burst for Bender's goal was a broader tactical triumph for Löw and his vision of a team not just of foot soldiers, but also of happy foot soldiers. The emotional aspect of running – never an obvious theme of Howard Wilkinson's vomit-soaked cross-country yomps – is a preoccupation. "Emotionally speaking, sprints forward have much better connotations than running back," Löw said following the recent friendly against Switzerland. "If you are going forward, you forget how much you have run and how fast you have gone. It doesn't hurt as much to sprint forwards."

There is variation within this. Mario Gomez, the world's most languid goal machine, is hardly known for the relentless venom of his sprinting. But there is sense here too: Gomez plays so high up the pitch there is basically nowhere left for him to run towards. Instead he is in part a navigational device, the finish line towards which his team-mates can selectively charge.

Plus Germany are not a one-note team. The "game of sprints" may be devastating at times but against Denmark in the second half Germany showed they could change tack, playing like a slow motion Spain, keeping possession and emasculating increasingly weary opponents. "Denmark were like a handball team," Löw said of the final 20 minutes, a note of triumphalism borne not of disdain but of a perfectionist's pleasure in a plan effectively realised.

If Germany can overcome tenacious Greek opponents on Friday night, Euro 2012 will be one step closer to its widely predicted final, a game of intriguing tactical contrast: pass against move, slow death against fast death. There is, of course, overlap here too and Spain are mobile in their own right, particularly in defence where their own game of sprints sees them press high up the pitch. Football takes great pleasure in defeating such highfalutin expectations. But should it come to pass a final of the favourites promises to be an affair of intriguing contrast and breathless mutual motion.