OOFT....

That wee lad was me at Tannadice in 1994. 

Still full of all types of youthful exuberance and naivety about the highs and lows of football,I had followed my beloved Motherwell FC to Dundee to watch us take on United. Leading thanks to a first half penalty from Tommy Coyne, the race for second place in the Scottish Premier Division didn't look like it would be letting up any time soon, especially in Tayside.

How wrong I was. Inspired by the gloved Jerren Nixon, the Terrors romped to a 6-1 victory, in Scott Howie's first start for The Steelmen. A torrid scoreline for any goalkeeper to be on the end of, to have it while trying to stake a claim for a number one jersey must have been even worse. Especially as he was trying to oust Stevie Woods as first choice custodian. How it took him so long I'll never understand.

As bad as Howie was feeling, I was feeling much worse. In 1994, I was nine years old, and the biggest Motherwell fan in my primary class, nay primary school. Full kit under my uniform at all times, writing match reports in my "weekend diary" for my teacher, pretending to be Dougie Arnott every play time; I was besotted.

And there they were, my heroes, being torn a new one on a cold, miserable day in Dundee. As the sixth goal went in, my wee heart broke and the floodgates opened as I gurned in to an empty pie tin, mopping up my tears with a vinyl scarf that didn't really dry my face, but spread the tears across it.

I didn't leave the house on Sunday to play with my pals, as I needed a day to psyche myself up for the slagging I was going to take off the Rangers fans at school. As a nine year old back then, the only social media I had access to was teletext. It was my favourite way of getting my football fix, but I couldn't even bring myself to look at it. My pals had though, as on that dreaded Monday they told me they had watched the goals fly in in 8-bit form on Ceefax page 310. I wished that I had done the same.

Twenty years on, I'm glad that I was witness to such a pumping, as I have gotten used to the ups and downs of supporting a team like MFC. Thankfully in more recent years, the relative success has outweighed the bad times. Bad times that a footballing nation like Brazil have rarely ever experienced.

Belo Horizonte may not be as glamorous as Tannadice, but for the majority of the the yellow clad fans inside the arena last night, they would have gone through a similar, if not bigger humiliation than I did back then. A stunning half hour of football shocked the entire world as a Neymar and Thiago Silva bereft Selecao capitulated in a jaw droppingly unexpected and enthralling style.

At this juncture, I am going to praise the Germans. The Brazillian performance was woeful, and I'll get on to that in a bit, but praise has to go to Joachim Loew's side for the way they handled the game from start to finish. A lesser writer would play up the efficiency angle of every man in red and black last night, but most reports I have read have done that to a death.

                                        THE GERMANS WERE GOOD, EH?

They certainly were, but more than that, they were professional and hungry where it counted. With a relative handful of their own support mixed between the noisy, raucous home fans, it would have been hard for them to hear the backing they had against an expectant home crowd. It didn't phase them though, with Thomas Mueller's easy peasy opener the biggest noise excluder of them all. 

And then the game went tits.

Klose scored, and Kroos scored, and then he scored again. Then Khedira. 

Half an hour played and the Germans were five goals ahead.  A world record for self inflicted dead arms was set, as six billion people pinched themselves to make sure they weren't dreaming and what they were watching was real.

Klose's strike, while not the prettiest, was a goal of the most monumental order giving him the moniker of All Time Leading World Cup Goal Scorer. He has now surpassed "Old Ronaldo" ( we all get fat as we get older, no need to make him feel bad about being both), somewhat making his night as a Brazilian that little bit harder to take. Kroos' first was a great hit, his second the result of some unselfish play from Khedira, who reaped what he sewed with his side's fifth.

                                  MIROSLAV KLOSED ALL BETS ON HIM 

                                    BREAKING THE WC SCORING RECORD

It was a rampant first forty five for the Germans and they didn't even need to be. As expected, the second half wasn't as intense as the game was won, but it gave Andre Schurrle the chance to make more of a mark on the tournament, bagging a brace and one of the strikes of the WC. His first was a tap in but his second was magnificent. 

A fantastically dinked ball from the left touch line by Mueller found the Chelsea man running in to the box. As it looked like his touch had taken the ball too wide and too narrow to get a shot away, he lashed the ball from the angle, in off Cesar's cross bar to further condemn the hosts to humiliation on the grandest stage of all.

Even the home fans clapped and applauded the seventh goal, as they chanted "ole" for the Germans. Loew and co had just killed their dream of lifting the World Cup on home soil in the most brutal way possible, yet those in yellow showed their appreciation for what they had witnessed the opposition do.

Of course, there's a very good chance those chants were sarcastic, an indignant response to what their own team had colluded to come up with. As pictures of Fred were beamed on to the big arena screen, boos rang out for the Brazilian number nine. In Neymar's absence, he was charged with being the goal getter, but after another weak performance (weak by previous standards at least) the mere sight of him was infuriating the supporters.

Making Fred the scapegoat would be a terribly inaccurate thing to do. Granted, he and Hulk and Oscar have been pretty dismal in supporting Neymar, and without him they didn't show any spark, but when a defence comprised of Champions League winners concedes seven goals in a World Cup semi final, the finger of blame has to be pointed elsewhere. 

Even before the goals started, balls in to Fred were over hit, under hit, not beating the first man, etc. A lone striker can only be a success if his supply is good, which it hasn't been for the majority of the tournament. His international strike rate before the WC was and still is pretty damn good, but he's been bereft of service, chances and luck. There's hyperbolic talk of him never being picked again for the Selecao, but if that is the case, then there's going to be a lot of empty shirts to join his.

Marcelo at left back has had a torrid tournament. From his own goal in the opener, he has been trying far too hard to make amends, but has ultimately been a liability. He's played similarly to how he does for Real Madrid, but at the Bernabeu he has a well gelled and quality midfield ahead of him, who can cope with his lack of defensive awareness in La Liga. In this World Cup, he's been found out.

                                   SHAMBLES, RIOT, BOMSCARE ETC

David Luiz is another, who has let his passion over rule his play. Handed the captain's armband in Thiago Silva's absence, he proved that he wasn't up to the task of doing his day job, with or without that added prestige. Fresh air swipes, poor positioning, lazy tracking and without any modicum of leadership quality, the €50 million man looked shell shocked. It doesn't matter how hard you belt out your national anthem or pray to God for guidance, if you play like an amateur, you'll get done like an amateur. Faith without works is dead, as they say.

He was left racing in to dead space at the first goal, as the unmarked Mueller had scored and was off celebrating by the time Luiz made it to where he was stood. He watched from the edge of the area as Klose got two bites at his world record breaking cherry. He was nowhere to be seen for Kroos' double and was all over the shop for Khedira's fifth. Schurrle nipped ahead of him easily for the sixth and we' ll let him off with the seventh as it was a pure belter of a strike.

                              SCHURRLE'S SCHENSATIONAL SCHEVENTH

Dante's lack of game time likely didn't help, and Fernandinho's mistake for the fourth will likely haunt him for the rest of his career, but as Captain, in a World Cup Semi Final, David Luiz needs to shoulder the biggest portion of blame for the utter trouncing his side received.  No organisation, no leadership, no World Cup final.

Scolari has been quick to take the blame for his players efforts, admitting to fielding a side that had never trained together as an eleven, and feeling the consequences of it. Oscar, who netted "the most pointless of goals" as described by Guy Mowbray, was consoled by his gaffer in the aftermath, as each of the embarrassed Brazilians trooped off in to the night.

The German celebrations looked to have been hindered by the concession of that late goal, particularly Manuel Neuer, who was more formidable and defiant on his own than his opponents's whole defence proved to be. Stunning without being spectacular, his stops at the start of the second half, as Brazil looked for pride, were indignant yet incredible, cementing him as the best keeper in the whole tournament.

As much as Germany's emphatic win has increased their backing to lift the World Cup, they can't rest on last night's result. While historic, momentus and record breaking, it will count for nothing if they don't win the WC. With only Argentina or Holland in their way now, achtzehn Jahre of hurt since their Euro 96 trophy could be wiped away.

For the Brazilians, no one knows how long their pain will last after night.