Germany squeeze home in World Cup victory against Sweden.

Germany squeeze home in World Cup victory against Sweden.

It was always the way in World Cups. Throughout the ages Germany have always had a special relationship with the World Cup. At first, they carefully mark out their territory, cautiously feel their way into the tournament and invariably come up trumps when it looks as if those vulnerable weak spots will be exposed for everybody to see. But not this time because Germany know how to pace themselves and know what may be required of them when the odds are, quite possibly, stacked against them.

For the whole of their second group match in this World Cup against Sweden, the Germans chipped away at stubborn Swedish resistance without ever really seeming to find the killer blow in them. The Germans threw every piece of IKEA flat pack furniture at Sweden and still found themselves battering away at a blue and yellow Swedish wall. But it all came right on the end for Germany and when the referee blew the final whistle you'd have thought the Germans had actually retained the World Cup rather than a won a game at the group stages of this competition.

And yet there was once again that well rounded air of professionalism and organisation which we've always associated with the Germans. How do they keep doing this? Where are all those psychological tools that the Germans can always call upon when things aren't going their way? There have to be plentiful reserves of stamina, sheer single mindedness and bloody mindedness, sheer nerves of steel that sustain Germany when the chips are down for them.

After a frantic start to the game both sides seemed to go head to head with each other like gladiators with shining shields, furious, intense, determined to win at all costs, crashing and clashing with each other remorselessly, thrusting and parrying, attacking and counter attacking at every opportunity. Sweden should have scored when one blue and yellow shirt found himself clean through one on one with only German goalkeeper Manuel Neuer to beat and still had an attack of stage fright. The chance went begging and was missed.

Then Sweden saw the whites of the Germans eyes and thought they'd try their luck again. A ball chipped sweetly over a lumbering German defence caught them napping and Ola Toivonen, a Swedish battle hardened warrior, bustled his way past a white German defensive unit and lifted the ball exultantly over Neuer for Sweden's amazingly unexpected opening goal.

From that point onwards the blue and yellow of Sweden played that classic game of Russian Roulette which may have been appropriate in this year's World Cup. They streamed forward, closing down the German assaults whenever the white shirts had  possession and then shuttling the ball around quickly  as if petrified that the Germans would rumble their cautious strategy.

During the first half though the Germans seemed to shift the ball between them as if planning a major military campaign, strolling and rolling the ball from one white shirt to the next. They were, as usual, rigid, disciplined, straight laced, straight faced, measured, considered, cool and calculating. There was that menacing, subtle, crafty and stealthy air about the Germans which has almost become hard wired into them.

On the touchline German boss Joachim Low was a vision in black, casual black shirt accompanied by black trousers, stern, impassive, businesslike and face totally concentrated on the task in hand. You felt that Low had lost all his worldly belongings, a face that was blank and devoid of emotion. There was a solemnity about Low which suggested that his whole world had fallen apart for him.

Then there followed over an hour and half of Germany thoroughness and absolute efficiency, something of a hallmark within German culture. There was a rigidity, structure and seamless smoothness about this German team that most of us have grown accustomed to over the years. When it comes to World Cups the Germans do like to make the game seem effortless and easy going. There was almost a formality and inevitability about some of  Germany's attacking football that couldn't be faulted.

The highly rated Julian Draxler, stylish, arrogant and very much in complete control of his footballing faculties, gave his German side, flair and continuity, roving about the pitch like a man determined to stamp his authority on the game. Draxler had an almost balanced detachment about him which might have implied that he wasn't really interested in the final score. But Draxler had the loveliest touch on the ball, real sensitivity, a guiding influence on proceedings which made the Germans feel so much better about themselves.

Then Jerome Boateng began to move forward into attack, cleverly linking with his colleagues with an intelligence and wisdom that could only be marvelled at. Once again Antonio Rudiger was a shining light in a Germany attack that wheeled forward and whirled around with the minimum fuss. Tony Roos of course is the German poster boy and provided Germany with much of their poise and grace in attacking positions.

With Joshua Kimmich, Sebastian Rudy, Thomas Muller and particularly Timo Wenner all exchanging passes at breakneck speed and devastating one touch football, Germany, without ever really threatening anything of significance. Then Draxler, who by now was beginning more and more like an Uli Hoeness from another era, cottoned onto a pass in another free flowing German attack, cut in on the edge of the penalty area, pulled the ball back sharply across the Swedish penalty area and Marco Reus, wrapping his foot around the ball before swinging his shot into the back of the Swedish net.  It was 1-1 and none of us knew quite to expect next.

Suddenly. the game adopted its very own mood, changeable and wildly dramatic for the remaining half an hour. The boxing analogy was just wonderfully apposite. The game now had piercing jabs, tentative rabbit punches to the stomach and then sparring of the most savage kind without ever descending into a warlike battle. Germany flung out several very brutal hooks to the jaw but then found that Sweden too had their artillery, a side of courage, directness but little in the way of subtlety.

Then in the game's final stages Germany upped the tempo, picked up the pace considerably but then fell disastrously into a hole of their own making. Jerome Boateng, who'd enjoyed one of his better and more committed games for Germany, lunged over zealously into a bad tackle and was sent off. You might have been forgiven for thinking that Germany had seen red such was the ferocity of their response.

The white shirts flooded into the Swedish half like condemned men who'd just been told that their punishment would be a severe one. At this point most of us must have been convinced that Sweden would take up the baton and conduct their very own orchestra. Not so. Sweden instead were, if anything, deeply intimidated by the German surge and dropped right back into their introverted shell.

The match was now well into injury time and the Swedes rightly felt that an injustice had to be righted. How dare they allow their opponents to be lulled into a false sense of security without German permission. The Swedes had been given no authorisation to play for the draw and besides the Germans were still world champions.

Right at the very end, a respectful hush fell over the stadium. The Swedes had given away a terribly rash free kick from way out on the touchline.  A Tony Kroos free kick was just what the doctor had ordered. Kroos had been his usual skilful self and now the spotlight fell on him. The ball was lofted into the Swedish area and after a desperate scramble, Marcos Reus bundled the ball home for Germany's deserved if slightly fortunate winner.

Once again German attention to detail, brilliant planning and relentless perseverance had worked in Germany's favour. The Germans had done it again. Oh, how often have we heard of that one before? Just when you think that that almost Teutonic self righteousness had made sure that Sweden could never stop Germany. English supporters would perhaps believe that familiarity can only breed contempt when the opposition are Germany. But for Sweden this must have felt like the knockout blow to the head where the only reaction can be one of genuine loathing.

And so the world champions were let off the hook when it did look as though they'd made a rod for their own backs. How cliched this contest had now become? Germany had won their first match of this World Cup after Mexico had left them gasping and shocked with a 1-0 defeat last week. Germany are back in World Cup contention and the chances are, will make gentle progress into the knockout round with just a slight gulp of anxiety at the beginning of the tournament.

Back in England some of us were privately hoping that the misfortune that had paid a brief visit to the Germans against Mexico would flare up again. So far this World Cup has given us a very poor and limited Argentina team who really look doomed at the moment, a Brazil who will hopefully give us that traditional mixture of sweet honey and delicious ambrosia, football with a genuine samba beat and a Poland team who had to be the worst ever seen in any World Cup.

For both Spain and France this World Cup could produce any number of plots and sub plots. France are all artistic flourishes and sometimes pretentious posturings while Spain give us Latin lessons, a side of quick witted impulses, wonderfully attractive passing football but every so often given to annoying carelessness and sloppy amateurishness.

The general opinion at the end of this first week of the World Cup is that the standard of football has been excellent at times but fraught with fear at the others. Comparisons with previous World Cups are always odious and the salad days of Beckenbauer, Pele, Cruyff, Tardelli, Rossi, Kempes, Moore, Hurst and Peters are now no more than historic names of the World Cup's gold embossed pomp and pageantry.

The Germans though have proved something we always knew about them. Their renowned powers of stamina, longevity and resilience can never be questioned. We're all aware of their uncanny powers of recovery, that mechanical grinding down of their opponents which they seem to specialise in and then the finishing power up front which almost seems to go without saying. We must hope that within the next couple of weeks nobody mentions penalties and England in the same breath. How the Germans must be rubbing their hands again! Still, there's a long way to go yet and much that can and probably will happen. We can't wait.