It’s a common cliché that all good things come to those who wait, and tonight, that adage summed it up rather accurately for the Germans, who proceeded to lift the trophy following awkward extra time against Argentine brutes. It wasn’t just Messi’s nonchalance and absence that paved the green, cleanly striped Maracanã way for the Germans, rather their sheer tenacity and fire when hunting victory. Their precision paid dividends, and this is how the events unravelled.

The infamous stadium in hectic, buzzing Rio de Janeiro was awash with blue shirts, yet Germany didn’t require a packed stadium of native fans to bring them courage; they possessed such an innate fire that tonight’s events saw another team inevitably burned. Within 2 minutes, small rivalries were building, after Marcos Rojo clattered against Thomas Müller, marking the first of a string of run-ins between the pair. The Deutsche free kick was a tad ambitious, and since then, their joy at hitting the goal on target was off. Instantly, Germany set themselves up as concrete defensively, with Bastian Schweinsteiger’s clearance of pin-up boy, Lionel Messi’s, attempt. Their structure on the back line remained rather indestructible, and so Argentina were constantly coming up against a brick wall.

How Germany Won the World Cup

Christoph Kramer, the likely substitute to take Sami Khedira’s place unexpectedly following a pre-match injury whilst warming up, suffered a nasty blow to the head. His dazed appearance was a cause for concern, and André Schürrle (the most super of all subs) took centre stage. Despite great German ball retention and easy dominance, the brazuca was suddenly snatched by ruthless Gonzalo Higuaín, who had worn a somewhat hazardous look for some minutes. His shabby efforts after Toni Kroos’ dire header outward meant he failed to net the ball, and his later shot reached the goal, but was disallowed due to offside position. His general tact left me feeling he was almost as unreliable as Fred!

At this point, it was obvious that Germany were in control and plucking all necessary strings to shut down Argentina’s minimal threat, but their perseverance in the middle of the field was strong. However, Philipp Lahm was always given acres of space. Why? Was it only blatantly evident to those watching from their sofa, or were opposing players just a tad cautious of the skipper? I don’t know, and frankly, for the sake of Germany, didn’t care if he’d had the whole pitch. Regardless, Lahm was yet again a crucial component, and never locked down. Perhaps he was wearing some sort of repellent device. Despite this, there seemed to be some slight Khedira withdrawal symptoms, as the Germans lacked a bit of general gel and function at points.

Argentine defence was sturdy; they were capable of constantly intercepting balls in, though Schürrle’s stonking attempt at 36 minutes could’ve torn down all of their barricades. Moments later, it was easy to see that German feathers were steadily becoming ruffled, which created grievances on the pitch. Furthermore, Benedikt Höwedes’ header was agonisingly near, ricocheting from the woodwork, which added to the tension.

Following the half-time break, play was slightly busier, though Argentina were offering signs of bad sportsmanship and just how handsy and aggressive they can be when under pressure. Meanwhile, composure was maintained among the German squad. Jerome Boateng (my Man of the Match, without a shadow of a doubt) was utterly unstoppable and rigid on the defensive line, almost Neuer-like; whilst Müller remained the feisty puppet master, albeit short-tempered. For Messi’s side, they deemed it justifiable to hug/smother/clench the shirts of German attackers whilst in the box during corner kicks; their poor display of professionalism only worsened throughout, though they were vastly more fluid than their prior efforts against Holland, and managed to rattle Joachim Löw’s men.

The coronary-inducing second half didn’t see any goals, but a couple of decent substitutions; Rodrigo Palacio, equipped with Padawan-style hairdo, came on for Higuaín, and youthful Mario Götze for top chap, Miroslav Klose. The latter proved countlessly beneficial. Götze has always been nimble and eager, and oh so strong when playing with Die Mannschaft. Once again, Boateng boasted expert tackles with flawless timing, whilst Schweinsteiger held a rather God-like presence, with alert, defensive skills (and later a whacking great facial injury – there was blood).

Alarmingly, the match cruised into extra time, a.k.a 30 additional minutes which tempted me to gnaw off my freshly manicured nails. Germany were urgent from the start and caused a ruckus with Schürrle’s shot, but it wasn’t until Götze darted into the box and SCORED that it all became sensationally real. Despite awful Argentine challenges and their nature to fudge through the game, the right team won. They had dealt with a good deal of hard luck throughout, and so it felt stupidly exciting when the final whistle blew and they were crowned winners.

I could barely believe that they had done it, but not because Argentina were particularly menacing or worthy; the sense of joy, relief and achievement that engulfed me was so satisfying. I might not be German by passport or birthplace, but I have supported these superb gentlemen through thick and thin for years thus far, and will continue to do so for more.

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