Brazil v France: World Cup 1986 quarter-final – live!

Frisson:strides interface. I would happily be called any of these names.

And it’s not just this game! Later today comes West Germany v Mexico, then tomorrow we’ve got the small matter of Argentina v England and Spain v Belgium. I’m sure it’s been said before, but I really fancy England to go all the way this time and end 20 years of hurt; if anyone can do a job on Maradona, Terry Fenwick can do a job on Maradona.

An omen: this is currently top of the UK hit parade.

A further omen: I’ve got a funny feeling this is going to succeed it next Sunday.

In other words: this is going be a religious, celestial experience. Thank you science.

For those of you who’ve invented the internet already, you can watch along here:

So Brazil are unchanged from their 4-0 hiding of Poland, because why should they make special plans for a side as good as France? Exactly. And why should France make special plans for a side as good as Brazil? Exactly. They make one alteration, Tusseau replacing the suspended Ayache; seven of these started their 1982 defeat to West Germany in Seville.

Brazil (a relaxed 4-4-1-1): Carlos; Josimar, Edinho, Julio Cesar, Branco; Elzo, Alemão, Socrates, Junior; Muller; Careca. Subs: Paulo Vitor, Leao, Edson, Oscar, Mauro Galvao, Falcao, Zico, Silas, Valdo, Casagrande, Edivaldo.

France (a flexible 4-4-2): Bats; Amoros, Battiston, Bossis, Tusseau; Fernandez, Giresse, Tigana, Platini; Rocheteau, Stopyra. Subs: Bergeroo, Rust, Ayache, Bibard, Le Roux, Ferreri, Genghini, Vercruysse, Bellone, Papin, Xuereb.

Man Jimmy Hill likes to say we’re hoping not to notice: Ioan Igna (Romania)

For those of you making your World Cup debuts aged 7 years and three months, this is the game. Obviously you’ve lapped up everything you’ve been allowed to lap up, but this is the one: the one your dad plonks you in front of, as though he needed to, and says “This – this – this – is what it’s all about.”

We’re all friends here, so we can be be honest: if it turns out to be a stinker, there’ll be joy to be had in the aftermath, winding him up. But it’ll be small compensation because this needs to be magic. The world is depending on it.

Football is a hard, nasty, vicious, visceral endeavour, and that’s a large part of why we love it so much. But this contretemps – this revés – which has the potential to be extremely special – will be no such thing. It’s a funny old game, Saint, Santo.

Performing for our delectation we have two of the most beautiful teams ever, wearing two of the most beautiful kits ever, exuding two of the coolest cools ever, with a place in the World Cup semi-finals at stake. Anyone who claims to know what’s going to happen is a liar.

Brazil, the only team left in the competition with a 100 percent record, eased through their group and were dazzling in caning Poland last week – so far they have scored nine and conceded none. It’s true that Socrates is slowing, Eder has gone, Falcao is going and Zico is ailing, but they now have midfield ballast and Careca instead of Serginho. He already has four goals to his name, while the boy Josimar is flying. Roughly, os meninos podem brincar.

France, meanwhile, started slowly but hammered Hungary in their final group game before seeing off Italy in the last 16. Though this is surely its last stand, the carré magic which carried them to the European Championship remains intact; in front of it, there remains no serious striker, but behind it Manuel Amoros has strengthened the defence. Roughly, les garçons peuvent jouer.

Kick-off: 12pm CST, 6pm BST 1986, 7.45pm BST 2020