Eighteen years after facing Brazil at the Stade de France they face another Ronaldo in a final there. Only this one will probably be a little more effective than the one who sleepwalked through that game. If France defend like they did against Germany tonight and Griezmann is as ruthless again, they have to be favourites against Portugal. But don’t write off Cristiano. He always turns up. He’ll do something even when he appears to be doing nothing. As for Germany. They need to get busy manufacturing strikers. Thanks for all your emails and tweets. Sorry I couldn’t publish them all.
The Stade Velodrome is awash with the Tricolour. It’s everywhere, floating on a sea of noise. The French players approach the fans and join in a communal Iceland viking chant. And, you know what, after that gutsy performance it doesn’t quite seem as cheesy as you might think.
“So far this season Leicester have shown us that possession counts for little, Portugal showed that a team with a superstar and 10 others can triumph over a well-drilled team familiar with each other over a long period, after Iceland had seemed to prove the opposite earlier on. And now France are disproving the line about the importance of game management having been virtually shut out of the game for the majority of this match. I’m so disillusioned, I don’t know what to think anymore. Is football the new Hollywood where nobody knows anything?” wonders David Wall, perhaps wandering around lost in a maze.
Nicola Rizzoli blows his whistle three times and France are heading to Paris. Joy spreads around the Stade Velodrome as German bodies sink to the turf and France players hug one another after a brave, battling and potent performance.
90+4 min: Loris makes a quite wonderful, acrobatic save from Müller and Kimmich, who jointly headed a Kroos cross towards the France keeper’s left-hand post. His rubber left arm comes from nowhere to claw it out. The jig is up for Germany. Only a matter of time.
90+2 min: Cabaye is on for Griezmann, who is given a rousing standing ovation as he jogs off. He’s never played professionally in France. How odd. He’s feeling the love now, mind.