Greeks defy odds

They did that all right. At each stage, those who carped on about wanting to see football as the winner would have cheered first for the French, then the Czechs, then Portugal at the expense of a team which was packaged with Greek soul but German method.

Yet each time, this obdurate, limpet-like bunch squeezed the life out of the favourites so effectively that, in some weird way, they ended up winning over neutrals like myself with their sheer cussedness. The whole theme of this championship had been 'who dares wins' - that is, teams who'd taken the defensive approach had somewhere along the line paid for their negativity. Not this lot; like the Italians of yesteryear, they turned strangulation into an art form.

Unknown artists, though. Take Kapsis. AEK Athens have gone bankrupt so he and team-mates Zagorakis and Costas Katsouranis don't even have a club to go back to for the new season.

"I don't know where I stand at the moment. I don't know what's going to happen," said Kapsis.

If there's any justice then what will happen is that all three, who have been so outstanding here, will be inundated with offers. Maybe their captain Zagorakis might return to the Premiership. "I hope so," smiled Giannakopoulos "It's better for me because I will have some company then."

As for the man who will be immortalised as the match-winner, well Angelos Charisteas would probably just settle for a game for his club. Last season, the man they call 'Harry' at Werder Bremen was relegated to the bench most of the time, forgotten and undervalued even though he is their record signing.

For Rehhagel, though, he was the ace. Before the match, the German coach told him: "You've had a sensational start, take your hour in the spotlight, take your speed and ability. You have nothing to lose."

How Charisteas took his chance. As against the Czechs, one corner and one 57th-minute header was all it needed. Not pretty but enough.

Yet Kapsis perhaps rightly bridled at criticism of their 'ugly' game. "Listen, I don't believe we play ugly football; we play football with brains and heart. Look at the result; it tells you everything. We are the champions."

Portugal looked at the result today and still couldn't take it in. For a people who have been such friendly, welcoming hosts this past month, it was impossible not to feel sorrow for them that their party should be pooped so dramatically at the final hurdle by a team whose own last-minute influx of thousands of incredible supporters gave the final in the Estadio da Luz a quite spine-tingling feel.

"You have to congratulate Greece because they took their chance but we were the best side in the tournament," said young Cristiano Ronaldo, once his tears had dried. He was wrong, of course. Luiz Felipe Scolari had two chances of outmanoeuvring Rehhagel; he failed twice and offered no excuses for it.

Big Phil's considerable grace in defeat said a lot. He wasn't about to wail that this was some kind of Greek tragedy, a black day for attacking, inventive football. No, he preferred to salute a team which played as a team, with wonderful resilience and spirit, and a coach whose tactical acumen he had failed to counter. Make no mistake; Greece deserved it.

"If anyone said three years ago that this could have happened, everyone would have said they were crazy," smiled good King Otto. "That's the wonderful thing about football."

Quite right. Don't agonise over it as the latest episode in some dark, dubious trend for football. Just enjoy it for what it is. A freakish, marvellous happening, the like of which we might never see again.