From A to B - again avoiding C, D, and E*

So much am I looking forward to the World Cup final - and enjoying an actual real life all-day day off – I thought I’d make a little comeback.

So, before a ball is kicked, it’s a final with a compelling story ...

Italy, for their part, are playing like men possessed.

It’s a nice idea – the World Cup as salvation and redemption. Maybe overly romantic, but I think there’s a degree to which the squad – against a background of sheer bedlam back home – believe they have a chance of exorcising domestic demons by proving to the world that there is still beauty to be found in the Italian game.

Certainly, there has been much to admire in the Azzurri of 2006.

Cannavaro, to my mind, has been close to flawless in this tournament; emerging from the shadow of Nesta with a pretty convincing impersonation of a complete centre-half. Quite an achievement for a man sharing defensive duties with a walking bombscare like Marco Materazzi.

And, while I’m generally puzzled by the football world’s reluctance to celebrate fine defending, maybe it is going forward that this Italian side have most impressed.

Lippi brought six forwards to Germany – two more than England. He has used them all – that’s three more than England. And, at the risk of labouring my point, all of them have scored – five more than Sven’s men.

In fact, with the exception of their two substitute goalkeepers – and that’s got to be a lonely job, behind Gianluigi Buffon – every man has had a part to play, speaking of a consistent depth of quality that I’m not sure any other team can match.

As a result, when Lippi needed goals to avoid a shootout against Germany's penalty Mensch-Maschine, he was able to confidently make three attacking and, ultimately, match-winning substitutions. There are teams already ejected from this competition that couldn’t fathom three positive substitutions between now and Christmas, never mind in half an hour.

That is how you get to finals, I’d suggest – by making the best use of the best resources available to you. It is no great secret.

But, then, what of France? I scroll down the page will reveal my misgivings about their squad which, in many ways, remain. However, there is a feeling that – having woken up against Spain – the old guard are now powering Les Bleus through the knockout stages almost by force of personality alone; some of them knowing when they wake up each matchday that this may be their last 90 minutes in the game and determined to make it count.

And, despite Zidane’s displays, again it has been a defender that has impressed me the most.

I have long had an almost unhealthy adoration of Lilian Thuram – a wonderfully intelligent and improbably athletic player who takes time off from steering his country into World Cup finals to get it right up Jean-Marie Le Pen.

The image of footballers as thickos is a tired one; but Thuram is a man who can appreciate the opportunity to exploit sporting and cultural goodwill to publicly and eloquently shame the republic’s racist underbelly in the way Rio Ferdinand can read a long ball. Oh, and he can do that too. Um. Merked.

Ultimately, France and Italy deserve this final. Germany came close, but couldn’t quite match the Italians’ sophistication. Argentina dazzled us, but perhaps too soon. Brazil and England failed to live up to lofty reputations and will be no more than footnotes in this World Cup.

Whether they can serve up a quality final, we will soon see. This has been a schizophrenic tournament – and I suspect the tone of the last match will go a long way to determining how it is remembered. Germany 2006 is a World Cup crying out for a great finale.

*I know.