• These entries have been adapted from the match reports in Cris Freddi’s updated Complete Book of the World Cup, on sale as an insanely cheap ebook

1) Uruguay 4-1 Germany, Olympic Games quarter-final, 1928

Why I like it: when I revised the book, I included the early Olympics – because they were regarded as world championships (so the cover has an England shirt with three stars over the three lions!). As for this match, I like seeing a skilful team fighting for their right to party. It makes them a great one.

If you’re going to push people around, you need to pick your targets. In the first round, Germany had bullied Switzerland 4-0, burly striker Richard Hofmann scoring a hat-trick. But battering small fry is one thing, whereas Olympic champions batter back. You only have to look at the faces of José Nasazzi and Lorenzo Fernández to be very afraid – and film of the match shows a number of Uruguayan sliding tackles. Nasazzi was a strong-arm captain, Álvaro Gestido one of the best all-round midfielders in the world, and although the great José Leandro Andrade was out with appendicitis, Uruguay were confident enough to replace him with a new cap, Juan Píriz.

Up front, the champions had so many world-class forwards they could drop Héctor Scarone and bring in the combative Héctor Castro, who’d lost his right hand to an electric saw while working as a carpenter – and especially restore Pedro Petrone, top scorer at the 1924 Games, so clever at finding space he was called the first man to play without the ball. Germany couldn’t keep him out even while they had 11 men.

Some of the Teutonic tackling probably stemmed from over-excitement in front of their own supporters, 15,000 this time. A foul by their captain Hans Kalb conceded the first free-kick of the match; Petrone narrowly missed with a shot; and it was soon clear that Germany were much the slower team (Kalb, tall and very heavy, was constantly exposed by Gestido). They stayed in the game only with late tackles, the Uruguayans protesting at fouls on their top winger Santos Urdinarán. Germany maintained an uneasy equality for half an hour – then, in the space of three minutes, they kicked the roof down on themselves.

Petrone’s individualism brought the first goal. He broke into the penalty area, dribbled past the last defender, and scored with un tiro magnífico. A minute later, Kalb committed a harassed foul, clumsy and hard but no worse than several others in this game. The decision to send him off cost Germany the match: they immediately conceded another goal. Urdinarán found Petrone, who hit another hammer blow (possibly the one seen on film, high and hard to the keeper’s left).

Germany reacted with anger and even harder tackling. As The Times put it, “play became very rough in the second half”, with several stoppages for injury. Some of the film looks like a high-kicking contest, with the occasional leaping bodycheck. Any efforts the Germans made in attack were repelled by Nasazzi, and their 10 men were overrun. Antonio Cámpolo, as good a wide player as Urdinarán, sent in cross after cross. One of them reached Petrone, who made goals as well as scoring them. A serene pass set up a close-range finish for Castro, who was later lectured for fouling the keeper.

Germany saved some face with a free-kick at the other end. Sepp Hornauer placed it, and Hofmann took just about the only chance he was given. But Petrone completed his hat-trick from a loose ball when Heiner Stuhlfauth did well to save Cámpolo’s powerful shot. The last phase of the match was played criminalmente with Nasazzi and Hofmann sent off for their latest clash. Germany apparently suspended their captain for a year (in fact he wasn’t capped again), Uruguay banned theirs for one match. Their other players were so good they could do without him. Faced with playground bullies, the Uruguayans hadn’t backed down, and looked even more likely to retain their title.

This was the first encounter between the two countries. Ten matches later, including four in the World Cup, it remains Uruguay’s only win over Germany or West Germany.

2) Hungary 4-2 Brazil, quarter-final, 1954

We all enjoy a football punch-up from time to time.

From the first World Cup to be televised, the first video nasty. It’s been blamed on a clash of cultures but was probably simpler than that. Hungary, for all their goals and brilliance, had some rather basic defenders (Gyula Lóránt a standard stopper, Mihály Lantos big for a full-back) and strong characters. Likewise Brazil. And with so much at stake, combustion was always possible. English referee Arthur Ellis sent off three players because he simply lost control: “I was determined not to call for any interpreters … my blood was up.”

Brazil brought in three new forwards, but it was their defence that gave Hungary a flying start. João Carlos Pinheiro tried to dribble out of his area and lost the ball to Nándor Hidegkuti, who blasted it from 10 yards. Carlos Castilho made a wonderful save (especially for someone who was colour-blind!), then rushed across the goalmouth to block another shot – but he was unlucky that the ball ran loose for Hidegkuti to smash it high past two defenders at the near post. After the goal, Hidegkuti replaced his shorts, allegedly ripped by a Brazilian.

Hungary went 2-0 up after just eight minutes, when József Bozsik chipped a simple ball down the middle for Kocsis to get between two defenders and head down across Castilho. By then, Brazil’s great right-back Djalma Santos had already cleared off the line. When he converted a penalty for a foul by Jenő Buzánszky on ĺndio, the match had been going less than 20 minutes but was already turning tasty. Kocsis wagged his finger at Maurinho after a tackle from behind; Ellis broke up a fracas in midfield; and the mood darkened further when he gave a penalty after Pinheiro barely brushed past Kocsis. Lantos put Hungary 3-1 ahead with the kick.

José Carlos Bauer brought down Bozsik, who needed treatment and came back infuriated. A suave midfield general, one of the all-time greats, no one knew he had a dander, let alone one that could get up. Yet here he was, sent off with Nílton Santos amid allegations of racial abuse. Zoltán Czibor was chased by Djalma, someone to be avoided in dark alleys; József Tóth limped through the second half after pulling a muscle; Hidegkuti pushed ĺndio to the ground and stamped on his calf; and the police had to order photographers off the pitch when Didi exacted revenge!

Julinho lightened things briefly with a lovely goal, stepping inside a defender and slicing a drive across the keeper into the far side of the net. A rather forgotten figure by now, superseded by Garrincha, Julinho looked an unlikely footballer, hollow-cheeked and bone-thin, but he was one of Brazil’s best wingers, which means something. This was his last international for five years; recalled against England, he scored within two minutes.

Didi and Maurinho hit a post with consecutive shots, then Humberto was sent off for jumping on Kocsis (“one tremendous leap”), who headed Hungary’s fourth goal from Czibor’s right-wing cross.

As the teams left the pitch, a free-for-all broke out, a photographer attacking the police (or vice versa). At least two sources allege Ferenc Puskás split open Pinheiro’s head with a bottle. In the Hungarian changing room, the lights suddenly went out and some retaliatory glass came flying in. When order was restored 10 minutes later, a doctor was ministering to one of the Tóths and there was bad blood everywhere. A classic of its kind.

3) Brazil 2-0 USSR, Group 4, 1958

The seminal match on Brazil’s way to winning the Cup for the first time. Imagine it: Pelé and Garrincha as reserves. Some team, this.

Brazil had won their opening group match 3-0. But then they’d been held to a goalless draw by an ordinary England team, and head coach Vicente Feola didn’t think the blend was quite right. So he consulted João Carvalhães, the psychiatrist Brazil had brought with them. I’m thinking of bringing in these two guys, said Feola. Don’t do it, quoth the good doctor. One of them’s “too young, too infantile”, the other so unsophisticated that “including him in the team would be a disaster”. Feola listened, nodded, then did the opposite and picked both players. They were Pelé and Garrincha. Brazil had found their team.

Zito was another important replacement, a better midfield tackler than Dino Sani, who’d strained his groin against England – but Pelé and Garrincha made the main difference. And how. Garrincha was in the squad only because the brilliant Julinho had turned down an invitation. Now he nearly broke the near post in the first minute. Pelé, recovered from a knee niggle, hit the bar in the second minute. And Vavá shot home Didi’s flick in the third. The badly shaken Soviets, needing a draw to qualify, used their captain Igor Netto to mark Didi, but Netto hadn’t recovered from a knee injury inflicted by Bill Slater in a recent friendly with England. So Didi did what he liked, and Vavá stabbed in Garrincha’s return pass for a late second goal.

Pelé missed two early chances but obviously had all the skills in the world, eerily assured for a boy of 17. Meanwhile no one has ever been more explosive from a standing start than Garrincha, who flew past defenders on legs that were bent from birth. And Vavá, less skilful than the player he replaced, was a hammer up front. Even Lev Yashin had to hold his hands up.

4) Hungary 3-1 Brazil, Group 3, 1966

A classic. And the first classic I ever watched. Small kid, big black-and-white telly.

Hungary had lost their first group game by two goals; defending champions Brazil had won theirs by the same margin. But the Brazilian squad was overloaded with knackered veterans and also-ran youngsters. Above all, today they were without Pelé, injured by some brutal Bulgarians. Hungary took advantage right away.

In only the third minute, the ball was pushed out to the right, where Ferenc Bene jagged inside to stop Altair in his tracks, left him on his backside by beating him on the outside, cut inside Hideraldo Bellini, and scored with a low left-footer inside the near post. A little jewel, and just the start Hungary needed.

Brazil’s two goals so far had come from free-kicks. So did their third, after 15 minutes here. The ball deflected through to the 19-year-old Tostão, whose left foot struck it high to the keeper’s left. A superb sequence of play nearly put Hungary back in front. Gyula Rákosi’s crossfield pass was volleyed back by Imre Mathesz then by centre-half Kálmán Mészöly, then Bene played a headed one-two with Flórián Albert only for Gylmar to make the save. Seven touches in all, without the ball touching the ground.

By now Albert was running the match, socks round his ankles, ball tied to his feet. In the second half, he played Bene in behind the full-back, but János Farkas volleyed the low cross wide of the near post. Bene put his head in his hands, Rákosi remonstrated with all his heart, Farkas snapped back. It looks comical on screen, but the last thing Hungary needed was another missed chance: as things stood, they were virtually out.

But the same three players produced an almost exact repeat for one of the great World Cup goals. Albert clipped a first-time pass up the right wing. Instead of beating his man, Bene looked up and hit a cross which dropped just above the penalty spot. Farkas, running full pelt, caught it with his instep just above the ground and a fraction behind him. The shot nearly holed the net behind a stationary Gylmar.

Brazil were broken then, missing Pelé like a lost limb. The killer third goal began with a fair but very firm tackle by Gusztáv Szepesi which left Garrincha limping. Inside pass to Albert, who accelerated past the disappointing Gérson and sent the ball out to the right yet again. Bene beat Altair and was brought down by Paulo Henrique for a penalty converted by Mészöly, who played out the last few minutes with his arm in a sling (like Beckenbauer in the 1970 semi-final). It was Brazil’s first World Cup defeat since 1954, and by the same country.

If Albert was the conductor, the prematurely balding Bene was a fabulous second string. Like Albert, he began as a centre-forward first capped at 17, soon scoring all the goals in a 6-0 win over Morocco at the 1964 Olympics. But his small size and close control made him better suited to life out on the wing. He scored in all four matches at these ‘66 finals, was involved in most of Hungary’s other goals, and was still playing international football in 1979.

In sad contrast, another brilliant winger wasn’t capped again. This was the great Garrincha’s 50th and last international, and no one else has been so indispensable: it was the only time he finished on the losing side.

5) Sweden 2-2 Romania (5-4 on pens, aet), quarter-final, 1994

I loved watching Romania in that tournament. I liked Sweden too, but Romania made counter-attacking so attractive you wanted to have its babies. Genuine regret that Hagi & co didn’t get to play Brazil in the semis.

Sweden had drawn with Brazil and scored superb goals in 3-1 wins over Russia and the surprising Saudis. They had Thomas Ravelli in goal, Roland Nilsson at full-back, a midfield axis of Jonas Thern and Stefan Schwarz, and a front three full of goals: Martin Dahlin, Kennet Andersson, and a relatively fat-free Tomas Brolin.

But Romania were the real turn-on in these finals. You could say their defence was OK (Dan Petrescu, the peerless Miodrag Belodedici) even though they lost 4-1 to Roy Hodgson’s Switzerland! And their midfield was on fire. Gheorghe Hagi ran the show and scored excellent goals, especially a freakish wonder against Colombia; Ilie Dumitrescu added two stunners against Argentina in the second round; and up front Florin Raducioiu finished with four in the tournament, including two here against Sweden. Even though the match was goalless until the last 11 minutes, it was a real feast.

Dahlin hit a post with a header in the third minute, Klas Ingesson had a goal disallowed for pushing, and Sweden eventually went ahead with an imaginative free kick. Schwarz ran over the ball, Hakan Mild pushed it to the right of the wall, and Brolin sprinted behind it to shoot into the roof of the net.

That seemed to be that – but a deflected free-kick found its way to Raducioiu, who celebrated his return from suspension by shooting high into the net. In extra-time, he scored with a fierce low shot after a dreadful error by Patrick Andersson – but then it was Sweden’s turn to find a late equaliser, Kennet Andersson towering over a hesitant goalkeeper to head in Roland Nilsson’s long cross.

In extra-time, Schwarz picked up a second yellow by fouling Dumitrescu. But Ravelli, wild-eyed and still elastic at 34, made two saves in the penalty shoot-out – though it was sad that the second one was from Belodedici, one of the great sweepers. Applause for Sweden’s resilience and skills, but Romania’s absence would rob the tournament of flair and colour, and make things easier for the eventual winners.

6) Italy 2-0 Germany (aet), semi-final, 2006

A wonderful match, my parents were Italian, and the Italians won. Doesn’t get any better than that.

Very nearly one of the great goalless draws.

Right at the end of extra-time, Andrea Pirlo hit a rising left-foot drive from 25 yards. Jens Lehmann was unfairly blamed for conceding a corner, but the shot was a wasp. Del Piero took the corner from the right. When it was headed out, it reached Pirlo in the D. And he began looking for a back door to unlock.

Germany weren’t taking any chances. They staged the match in their go-to city, where they’d never lost. Of the 14 matches in Dortmund, starting in 1935, they’d won 13 and drawn with Wales in 1977. But Italy took encouragement from history and recent results. These were the first semi-finals without Brazil or Argentina since 1982, the last time Italy won the Cup. They’d reached the final every 12 years since 1970. They’d never lost to the Germans in a major competition. And earlier in the year, they’d beaten them 4-1 in Florence. Today’s match was in Germany, of course – but the hosts had played extra time in their quarter-final, so Italy would fancy their chances the longer the game went on.

Calling it German attack v Italian defence would be much too simplistic. The maligned Metzelder and Mertesacker did well, admittedly against a lone Luca Toni – while Pirlo and Totti passed their way beautifully through midfield, covertly abetted by Simone Perrotta. Sebastian Kehl came in for suspended ball-winner Torsten Frings, but Ballack and Tim Borowski were outnumbered in midfield, with Klose and Podolski linking well but staying up front. In one team, Zambrotta and Grosso made constant long runs from the back. In the other, Lahm was a ferret in defence. Both sides threatened throughout the first half but made only half-chances. Totti, rarely wasting a pass, chipped a sweet through-ball up the left – but Perrotta took a slightly heavy touch and Lehmann came out to block. Germany made space for Bernd Schneider to run in unmarked on the right, but he shot over the bar, the ball going right above Buffon, perfectly positioned as always. Lehmann kept goal equally well, although he was lucky to stay on (and not concede a penalty) after smashing into Perrotta, a repeat of the notorious Schumacher-Battiston encounter in 1982.

Both sides maintained a high tempo in the first half but began to slump after that. Germany’s style involved a lot of hard work, so the wounded Ballack dropped deeper and couldn’t be the orchestrator he’d been in 2002. But as weariness crept in, chances were made. Twice Cannavaro gave Podolski too much room, first to meet David Odonkor’s cross from the right but put the header well wide of the near post, then to hit the ball hard from the left. Buffon’s positioning made him a magnet yet again, and he turned the wrecking ball over the bar. Thanks to an impressive referee, the match was played in a healthy spirit: when Camoranesi was booked in the final minute of normal time, it was Italy’s only yellow card in the last two matches.

In the extra half-hour, wide open spaces appeared in midfield as Italy sent on extra strikers and everyone else grew knackered. Even Gattuso had to slow down, and Germany were exhausted after that extra half-hour against Argentina. But it still looked like being their night: Italy hit the woodwork twice in the first two minutes of extra time. Again Toni had done the work of two men, while his replacement Gilardino was fresh and nimble. He shook off Metzelder to reach the right-hand goal line, turned inside Ballack, and rolled the ball past Lehmann but against the near post. Then Zambrotta collected the detritus from a corner and smashed it against the bar from just inside the penalty area. After scoring with his left against Ukraine, he nearly scored with his right against Germany: one of the great two-footed full-backs.

Two near-misses so close together were excruciating for Italy – and as extra-time began to run out, they grew desperate. Coach Lippi was praised for bringing on extra attackers, but he was picturing the alternative. In World Cup penalty shoot-outs, Italy had lost three out of three, Germany had won four out of four, the latest only four days earlier. Bit of a no-brainer. So Italy’s very late corner was their last chance.

When the ball broke to Pirlo, he could have shot first time. That’s probably what, say, Gerrard or Lampard would have done. But a real playmaker thinks more laterally. Pirlo sniped away to his right, slouching down like a hunting animal, waiting, waiting, before touching a short pass forward. The ball slipped behind the advancing defenders into the path of Fabio Grosso, a left-back loitering on the right. Now it was time to shoot first time, and Grosso curled the ball with his left foot. It travelled at medium height. Just wide of the unsighted Lehmann. Just inside the far post. Just perfect. Grosso went on a run reminiscent of Tardelli’s celebration in the 1982 final, and Italy had surely reached another one.

Ballack tried to prevent that in the little time remaining. When Cannavaro cleared at the near post with a diving header, Ballack swung the loose ball high and wide from a very difficult position. Then he drove in a cross towards Mertesacker – but Cannavaro was very good in the air for a man of 5ft 9in. Although Mertesacker’s nine inches taller, Cannavaro won the header. The ball bounced off Podolski’s chest well outside the penalty area, and Cannavaro sprinted out to win it again, then left it for Totti to send a pass forward. In a glorious counter-attack, Gilardino jagged to his right to wrong-foot Metzelder, then released a classy little reverse pass to the left. Del Piero ran a long way because he was fresh, then opened his body to use his right foot. Lehmann came out but had to stop, and Del Piero stubbed the ball high past the keeper’s left shoulder. It was his last goal for Italy, who’d again scored with the final kick of the game.

Clive Tyldesley, at the end of his impressive commentary: “Whatever happens in the final, we’ll be talking about this match for years.” Quite rightly, the crowd stayed behind to applaud their team and its great run. But, for the first time since the two countries met in another epic in 1970, Germany lost a World Cup semi-final and Italy won a finals match in extra-time. Again they’d beaten a German team who’d played an additional half-hour in their quarter-final. After the whistle, Marco Materazzi fell to his knees and hugged the referee round the waist! And Lippi watched the whole match again until five in the morning. “Well,” he said, “I liked what I saw.” What he saw was a team with the look of world champions.

• The Complete Book of the World Cup is available now