2014 will be remembered for many things in the football world, but there can be few more abiding memories than a truly remarkable World Cup semifinal between Germany and Brazil on July 8 in Belo Horizonte, Brazil.
Ian Darke, who commentated the game for ESPN, looks back on what he considers to have been "one of the most surreal experiences" he has ever had during his career.
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"Brazil 1, Germany 7. Do not adjust your television set. That score line is right."
Those were the words with which this incredulous commentator rounded off perhaps the most sensational match in World Cup history.
I remember turning to my co-commentator, Steve McManaman, at full-time and saying: "Remember today. They will be talking about this game in 50 years' time, and it was our privilege to provide a soundtrack."
It was supposed to be the day when the host nation, carried on a wave of hysteria and emotion, cleared the final hurdle on their way to the World Cup final.
For the millions praying for the five-time champions, it seemed to be something that was written in the stars. The trouble was that the players and coach, "Big Phil" Scolari, seemed to buy into the "destiny" nonsense. Brazil, after all, had not lost a competitive home game since 1975.
The reality was that this ordinary team, which had been anything but convincing throughout the tournament, were without their talisman, Neymar, and best defender, Thiago Silva. They had a huge job taking on a superb German team and, to have any hope, needed to be gritty, determined, clever, cute and tactically disciplined.
Instead, they sank in their own tears of emotion, even before the kickoff as the injured Neymar's shirt was held aloft. This was a passion play without a plot as far as Brazil were concerned.
Germany ripped apart this haphazard and hopeless team in one of the most ruthless and clinical passages of precision football you will ever see, scoring five times in 18 first-half minutes. Brazil, meanwhile, resembled a non-league team that had won a competition with the prize of taking on Germany.
The professionalism of Joachim Low's men was summed up when, even with his team 7-0 up, goalkeeper Manuel Neuer beat the turf in frustration when he conceded a last-minute goal to Oscar (let's not call it a consolation, because it was anything but).
Afterward, I recall putting down the microphone and looking at Steve, before blowing out my cheeks and just saying : "Blimey."
In the next commentary booth, former Brazil defender Branco tried to hide his face from us but emerged to say: "I am ashamed. Sorry".
Back at our hotel, the waiter who had worn a Brazil shirt every day until then had changed into a plain white one and just could not talk about it. It summed up the mood of a humiliated nation, which now had the indignity of seeing their great rivals Argentina make the final.
Something of the mystique of Brazilian football died that day, and the result is now burned into the psyche of the nation.
I still can't quite believe it really happened.
Five days later, Darke was back in the commentary booth for the World Cup final. Germany and Argentina played out 113 goalless minutes until the game's decisive moment.
In the end, the World Cup was won by the son of an eminent Dortmund University professor. Mario Gotze, who had endured a largely frustrating tournament around the fringes of the German team, was sent on as a substitute with instructions from Low to "show the whole world you are a great player."
His chance to do just that came deep into extra time at the legendary Maracana Stadium in Rio de Janeiro, watched over by the floodlit statue of Christ the Redeemer, which featured in many iconic shots during ESPN's coverage of the tournament.
In the commentary box, we -- perhaps like most of the players -- were mentally preparing for the dreaded penalty shootout, which is surely too much of a random way to settle the biggest game on earth. Old-school types, such as yours truly behind the microphone, hoped optimistically for a more authentic ending.
Gotze was to provide it. Andre Schurrle's cross set up the chance, but there was still an awful lot for the cherubic Bayern Munich star to do. A finish of sublime technique was required to hook a left-footed volley into the Argentina net from a tight angle. Gotze made it look a mere formality.
So it came to pass that, like the first two, the third World Cup final between Germany and Argentina was settled by goals roughly six minutes from the end -- Gotze followed in the footsteps of Jorge Burruchaga in 1986 and Andreas Brehme four years later. Spooky.
Up in the media seats, Argentine commentators around me dropped their pretence at neutrality to hide their heads in their hands, while their German counterparts were on their feet and punching the air.
Meanwhile, for the Brazilians, there was a sense of relief that their World Cup had not been won by their bitter rivals, whose fans had taunted them so mercilessly in the days before the game. (I sat in one Copacabana restaurant filled with Argentine fans who spent the entire night singing their anti-Brazil song to the tune of "Bad Moon Rising").
You might think an Englishman like me would hardly be celebrating a German World Cup win, but it had to be admitted that Low's stylish team, led by the magnificent Philipp Lahm and inspired by a heroic Bastian Schweinsteiger, were the deserved winners.
Germany had arrived with the pressure on as critics questioned this talented team. After all, Die Mannschaft had not won a major trophy since the 1996 European Championship and had since developed a nasty habit of fluffing their lines at the business end of major tournaments.
In our beachside studio on the night before the game, I had argued on air with former German captain Michael Ballack, who tried to claim there was "no pressure" because the team had already made the final.
My view was that the pressure from a demanding public to deliver the trophy, especially after they touched greatness in the semifinal, was now immense, and anything else would now be seen as another case of "bottling it."
Without ever threatening to be a classic, the final was an always-engrossing affair between two high-class teams and was far removed from the ugly, cynical disgrace served up by the Netherlands and Spain four years earlier.
As a commentator, you just hope for a good game to keep the millions at home tuned in, and you offer a silent prayer that you call the big moment correctly.
Well, Gotze gave us that moment and, thank goodness, he is not difficult to recognise. The right team won the World Cup.