FOR a vivid sketch of the differences between the Euro 2008 finalists, just take a look at their celebrity supporters.
The Germans offer us the Chancellor Angela Merkel, special advisor to Bastian Schweinsteiger. The Spanish give us the fragrant Letizia, Princess of Asturias, indulging the impertinent Spanish fans' request to give her husband a kiss when Spain sealed
their win against Russia. The Germans have a calculating politician; the Spanish have a very attractive romantic.
Well, it's a persuasive stereotype, but more accurate on the German side than the Spanish. This Spanish team are not flowery idealists, rather a side with a consistent style and an enviable squad. Their worst game in the tournament gave them the result their nation craved, victory over Italy in the quarter-final, a match where their fluidity was frozen by dread of Italy's entire football identity.
There is a respect for German football heritage in Spain, but it doesn't approach the fearful antipathy to Italy. Athleticism has never been a quality craved in Spanish football. High-profile German players recruited by Spanish clubs have tended to be the mavericks (unsurprisingly rare in Germany) rather than the pumped-up athletes. Three Real Madrid legends, Paul Breitner, Gunter Netzer and Bernd Schuster, the present manager, were among the most gifted players in German history. It's no coincidence that all three were, for long periods, far too expressive and opinionated to feature in the national team known in Spain as "El Panzer".
Real Madrid's current German presence is more typically Teutonic. The centre-back Christoph Metzelder hasn't looked comfortable since a foot injury ruled him out of the climactic months of the Spanish season.
He was shocking against Turkey, although one cameo demonstrated his keen grasp of one of the less palatable elements of German football. Metzelder's tormentor, the forward Semih Senturk, had already been booked. A few minutes later he strayed into the orbit of the bearded defender and the six-foot-five colossus rolled around in mock agony in a vain attempt to get the attention of the referee. Facing a team already depleted by injuries and suspensions, Metzelder had calculated that a sending-off was necessary. If Germans complain that so much of the football world wills them to lose, here was one of the reasons.
Spanish attacking verve has been tempered by circumstance. The tournament top-scorer David Villa won't be available for the final, but Luis Aragones won't lament his loss overlong. The coach was reluctant to play two strikers from the outset, and was saddled with the formation when it was so successful in the opening game. He will consider his instinctive preference for a 4-5-1 ratified by Spain's second-half performance on Thursday. Cesc Fabregas's interventions were decisive, the Arsenal player revelling in the freedom and spotlight offered by the role of a "number ten", orchestrating attacks behind a lone striker.
The formation may change; Spanish style won't. The course of the final will depend on whether Spain's intricate, possession, passing and movement through midfield prevails above Germany's more robust approach.
German tactics revolve around winning the ball and moving it swiftly to the trident of Michael Ballack, Schweinsteiger and Lukasz Podolski. This formation rests heavily on the aching ribs of the admirable Torsten Frings. To paraphrase William Butler Yeats, if Frings falls apart, the centre cannot hold.
If there are grounds for Spanish optimism they lie in the knowledge that, while German excellence has been sporadic, Spanish superiority has been more consistent, fading only in the freeze-out against Italy.
Xavi Hernandez and Marcos Senna have been exemplary and Andres Iniesta was inspired against Russia, while David Silva has been enough of a revelation to attract the interest of a queue of clubs headed by Arsenal. Add in Fabregas and the results are mesmerising.
The midfield can provide goals, but the final could prove an exhilarating climax to a great season for Fernando Torres. The regular substitution of the Liverpool striker throughout the tournament must have piqued his pride, exactly the reaction that Aragones was intending to provoke. On present form, a fired-up Torres against Metzelder and his equally sluggish partner Per Mertesacker looks like being one of those cruel sports that the Spanish unfortunately enjoy so much, tormenting dumb bovines.
It is one of Germany's more formidable qualities, though, that they refuse to recognise their own limitations.
A classic case-in-point is the goalkeeper Jens Lehmann, whose self-esteem appears to rise with every exposure of his faults. After being culpable for both Turkey's goals on Wednesday, his confidence is probably sky-high. The last German egotist to keep goal in a major tournament final was Oliver Kahn in the 2002 World Cup. That did not end happily, for Kahn or Germany.
This though is a game that the Spanish must play in the present, where they are palpably superior. The past can only hurt them.
One columnist in the sports daily Marca warned that "history will be playing too". That history tells us that Germans beat superior teams to themselves in the finals of the World Cup in 1954 and 1974, and Euro 96. Aragones's exuberant team might be advised to mark history very tightly tomorrow night, lest it kill their dream.
Letizia might not be there, as her father-in-law the king has pulled royal rank to secure the ticket. Angela probably will be. If Spanish talent prevails over German force of will, at least she can offer Schweinsteiger a consoling hug at the end.
The full article contains 934 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
