AS if pre ordained by some ulterior force, the Germans' are coming to Wembley, that is on Wednesday evening. A fairly unedifying and unpleasant experience can be anticipated. You thought the atmosphere was getting jingoistic? You ain't seen nothing yet.

Racist perceptions of the Germans die hard, and are bound to be revived in the forthcoming 48 hours with reference to "Krauts", "Huns", "Hitler", "Hitler Youth" and whatever else is going. Maybe we'll be surprised and an outpouring of sporting ecumenism will break out over England, culminating in a respectful silence for the German national anthem. And maybe pigs will fly.

This latest clinical, but cynical, German performance will be grist to the tabloids' mill. Not that the Croatians were any less culpable or indeed Swedish referee Leif Sundell and his linesmen. To describe their performance as off the pace would be an understatement; more out of this world.

Long before the end this contest had degenerated into an uncontrolled, intemperate affair. Many of the Croatians had lost their heads, none more so than right wing back Mario Stanic who conducted one of several ongoing personal feuds with Christian Ziege which culminated in a gentle nudge from which Ziege's indentation remains. "This is ice hockey," proclaimed an American colleague beside me.

Then again, it was usually hard to tell how real the injuries were, for this was a Theatre of Acting, not Dreams. Remarkably, given what had happened before in Euro 96, there were only three bookings, although there was also a pivotal sending off of the Derby centre half Igor Stimac after 57 minutes.

The force was with Croatia after they had become the first country to breach the Germans defence in equalising; but six minutes afterwards, Stimac rashly tackled Mehmet Scholl. Scholl made a meal of it, with aperitif and cognac thrown in, and it left a sour taste.

Mattheas Sammer deliberately kicked the ball out of play and some of his teammates surrounded the referee, who duly gave Stimac a second yellow card. Within two minutes, not coincidentally, the Germans scored. Game over, despite a game fightback by the 10 man Croatians and two wasted headers from goal a game striker Davor Suker.

The bad tempered match left other scars as well; Jurgen Klinsmann complaining after some early treatment from the Croatian defenders which left him needing intensive treatment from the German medical staff for a torn calf muscle in his right leg.

Perhaps that explains his untypically wild kick at Goran Vlaovic after seven minutes, for which he followed Sammer into the referee's book. As against the Italians, the Germans began tetchily and nervously once more, wayward passing under pressure conceding the ball to a livelier Croatian side.

Suker had an early run at the German defence, and Sammer's diving header cut out a superb cross by Real Betis flyer Robert Jarni, which was bound for the hovering Suker. Vlaovic, put through by the pretournament Derby steal, Aljosa Asanovic, sliced wide after 14 minutes.

But, of course, the Germans held their shape.

Interestingly, from an Irish perspective as well, the Croatians use a zonal, three man central defensive system, with two wing backs, three midfielders and two front runners - similar in make up if a good deal more advanced than that which Mick McCarthy is endeavouring to develop with the Republic of Ireland.

The Germans, of course, rely on their Beckenbaueresque employment of a midfielder at sweeper, the game's outstanding player Sammer, and two man markers, Markus Babbel and Thomas Helmer. In front of them is the holding midfielder Dieter Eilts, who rarely either plays a pass or goes over the half way line.

However, he slips into the defence effortlessly, whenever Sammer, particularly, or any of the back three break forward. The direct contrast underlined the greater fluidity of the German system and was underlined by an opening goal against the run of play - the first, after 260 minutes and 54 seconds of the quarter finals.

Appropriately, it was a penalty. Scholl picked out Sammer's run through the inside right channel with a delicate chip which the libero controlled on his chest, inducing a rash flick of the left hand by Niokola Jerkan. Klinsmann tucked home the penalty.

Suker was a constant threat, and Zvonimir Boban came alive on the half hour with a run and shot. Cheekily, the Croatian playmaker juggled the ball four minutes later before finding Suker, who was blatantly obstructed inside the area by Thomas Helmer.

The Croatians and their noisy pocket of fans, in another disgracefully half empty stadium, were still enjoying themselves; Stimac irreverently lifting the ball over Scholl near his corner flag. But the Croatian players were losing their cool as well, Slaven Bilic fortunate to escape censure for kicking a prostrate Ziege, having grown irritated of seeing so many prostrate Germans.

His teammates were as bad, but a compelling game was waiting to break out and seemed as if it would when Croatia equalised six minutes after the resumption. Steffen Freund, hounded bye Nikola Jurcevic, played the ball to Suker who ran on and rounded Andreas Kopke, rolling the sole of his left boot over the ball as delicately as if it were a freshly laid egg. Delightful.

Six minutes later, though, the match turned irretrievably, with Stimac's dismissal. The Croats in temporary disarray, Babbel went up the right, was legitimately tackled by Jerkan, only to be bowled over. He stopped, everybody stopped, but Mr Sundell was at another game, so Babbel crossed to the near post where the ball broke off an aerial duel between Bilic and Sammer for the latter to score emphatically.

Thereafter, amid the theatrics and the `carnage', some passages of football remained. The Germans, minimalists again, largely played keep ball. But excellent work by Asanovic and the rampaging Jarni resulted in two penetrating crosses from which Suker headed directly at Kopke both times.

The Croatians had left us with the more enduring passages of football and had created more chances. Yet the Germans had kept their nerve, made more of their chances, and won.

It's a dog eat dog game, and it's a dog eared script.