FRANCE and Portugal square off today in the final of Euro 2016. Between them, they’ve played 12 games in the tournament. Portugal have won once in the ninety minutes. That was against Wales. France have won five of six. Twice they had to score injury time winners. Once they had to come from behind against ten men. Once they contrived to concede twice against Iceland, a country with roughly 1/200th the population. And, against Germany in the semifinal it was classic smash-and-grab stuff, facilitated by two unlikely defensive errors and the fact that their opponents ended the game without four key starters. Other than the Germans, the highest-ranked sides defeated by France and Portugal were Romania (22nd in the world) and Wales (26th).

You can obviously only beat what’s put in front of you - and, in Portugal’s case, not even that - but it’s undeniable both nations enjoyed a rather soft route to the final. Luck and happenstance are part of the game. Accepting it doesn’t diminish their achievements, but it’s safe to say that neither side will be remembered as some kind of juggernaut.

In their first four games, France had been ahead for a grand total of thirty minutes plus injury time. They may have a deep and gifted team, but manager Didier Deschamps tinkered continually, liberally changing formations and personnel in search of the right formula. Take the Iceland game out of the mix - and, really, there was only so much you could reasonably expect from the Vikings, given the fact they played the same XI throughout the tournament and were clearly fatigued - and you’ll notice their wins came thanks to individual incidents: moments of brilliance from the likes of Dmitri Payet, Antoine Griezmann or Paul Pogba or moments of foolishness from the opposition.

They may well kick it up a notch in the final and flatten Portugal and it will all be wonderful and convincing. But we’re not there yet. France have looked like less - a lot less - than the sum of their parts throughout the tournament. And while you can argue that if only Olivier Giroud’s finishing had been better (or, indeed, if only Karim Benzema had not got himself involved in sex tapes and blackmail plots) they would have dispatched opponents more readily, the fact is they haven’t.

As for Portugal, this is a side caught in transition between generations. You have experienced veterans (Cristiano Ronaldo, Nani, Pepe, Joao Moutinho), much-hyped youngsters (Andre Gomes, Renato Sanches, Joao Mario, Raphael Guerreiro) and guys who seem to be along for the ride (Adrien Silva, Cedric Soares). Comparisons to Greece’s run in 2004 are wide of the mark (for a start, the Greeks beat the likes of Portugal and France and they did not have a Ronaldo) because, if anything, it’s been a two-speed tournament for Fernando Santos’ crew. They were actually expansive and attacking in the group stage - albeit unable to finish, in part due to the early form of Nani and Ronaldo - before transforming themselves into the more conservative unit we saw against Croatia and Poland.

Like France, they’ve only played well in stretches and have another level to which they can rise. Whether they - and the French - manage to do it today will go a long way towards determining how we remember this tournament.

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“We can’t solve all of the problems facing the French people. But we can provide a distraction and some joy to our nation and our people who have stood by us” said Deschamps after the victory over Germany.

It’s always a bit tricky when football transcends its role as entertainment and takes on a broader remit. Nationalism is a by-product of international football and, as we’ve seen with those reports of Wales’ run boosting the local economy, there is such a thing as a feel-good effect linked to events on the pitch.

And yet France, more than most nations, seems intent on turning sporting success into some kind of vehicle for patriotism and unity. We saw it in 1998 after the World Cup win, the “Blanc, Black, Beur” multiculturalism of the side and the way some treated it as a potential panacea for all sorts of social ills.

The problems arise when you come up short. Patriotism and all is great and it’s wonderful to tell yourself that your national side is some sort of reflection of the best a nation has to offer. But what happens when it fails? What happens if, say, Ronaldo runs roughshod over Les Bleus today and they are humiliated? Does it represent a failure of 23 men and their coach or does that short-coming then extend to an entire nation?

It’s a classic double-edged sword. Which is why the best way to handle it is to remember that this is sport. And the further away politics and socio-economics stay away from it, the better.

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Part of Ronaldo’s problem over the years has been the dichotomy with Lionel Messi. And a lot of that has to do with appearances. Messi comes across as goofy, humble and shy. He plays for a club that presents itself as some sort of holier-than-thou ideal (which may or may not be accurate but in any case resonates with many). Ronaldo looks like Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man, with added muscle definition and better hair. He preens and showboats. He has spent most of his career at Manchester United and Real Madrid, clubs that neutrals often loathe, mainly because they are so rich and dominant.

But today he’ll be in an entirely different position. He will be the underdog. And not a superstar underdog, carrying his team to the final, like Diego Maradona in 1986. But an underdog who has had a distinctly uneven tournament, coming up big in certain matches and misfiring badly in others. This time, it’s different. His short-comings have made him appear more human, dare we say even more humble. And he’s made up for it by scrapping and grafting and leading what may be one of the most spirited and unified teams in the competition.

It may or may not last. But rather than the prima donna star, what we’re seeing here is a superstar aging gracefully into a somewhat different role. It may just win him a few more supporters on the day.