It feels right that Germany beat Argentina this morning. The best team at this year’s tournament has lifted the best looking trophy in world sport at the best country for a World Cup. Nice work them.

This was a decent final won by a memorable goal but won’t Gonzalo Higuain be Gonzalo Higuain’s worst nightmare for the rest of his life? That was a shocker of a miss. I’d hate to be inside his head because the voices would be frightening. I wouldn’t be surprised if he missed the bus back to the hotel because he’d strung himself up in the Maracana rafters. Or Lionel had.

As good as Germany had been all tournament they could easily have lost today and I wouldn’t have been able to raise a complaint. Argentina were more enterprising than they’d been all tournament and it should have paid dividends. On such small things do big games change, however. Seize the day and all that.

That huge shuddering sound after the final whistle wasn’t all the fireworks going off it was 200 million Brazilians letting out the most significant sigh of relief in the history of the world. Their worst week, after three superb weeks, could so, so easily have plummeted so deep they wouldn’t have recovered for a generation or more. They thought 1950 was bad. How much worse could this have been…?

One question: does Germany get to keep the trophy now they’ve become the first country to win the non-Jules Rimet Trophy three times? Or does it only count as once because West Germany won the first two? I guess I could Google it. Later.

FIFA can rightfully take the plaudits for another spectacular event. For all the grief and agro they get about the way the ExCo conducts its business, the staff sure know how to put on a global sporting event. Everything is nailed on perfect. Even the imperfections. And their camera men (er, people?) had a blinder all tournament.

Brazil, the country, can be equally proud – the most stunning setting. I don’t really carry too many regrets with me but I have one now that will stick in my shoe like a sharp, annoying little pebble. I should have gone. It would have been very expensive but I could have done it. Unfortunately I chickened out. Under the banner of responsibility I often cling to I bailed on a dream. Ahhhhh!

When I started this little project 32 days ago I don’t think I had a specific goal in mind.

Yes, I wanted to leave a permanent record of my World Cup, similar to what I’d produced for 2006 and 2010, even though I didn’t actually get to go this time. It was also a good opportunity to get into a routine of writing regularly under something of a (self-imposed) deadline. The only way to get better at anything is by doing that thing over and over and over again.

So now we’ve finished I don’t really have that feeling of elation that comes with achieving a significant target. It’s more relief really. I get to have a few days off. Probably more.

‘Thank you!’ I hear my two regular readers say as one.

Pick for Day 33

Sorry, old habits die harder than Bruce Willis. My prediction for day 33 is that it will be sunny and I’ll get to watch Nathan at the first day of his first Matamata Swifts school holiday football coaching camp. That sounds pretty good to me.

Then cycle begins again.

The world’s footballing circus continues. I’ll be a bit closer to it in a couple of months when Nathan and I head to the UK for three weeks. His football education will take another step up while I’ll get to be amongst it again, for just a little while. It won’t be Brazil, but it will be a good second place prize, and by then the pain of regret will have eased a bit I’m sure.

And Russia 2018 is only a short (read achingly long) four years away.