Germany 3
Turkey 2

As Jens Lehmann made his triumphant passage through the St Jakob-Park Stadium, bearing a look which hovered between the self-satisfied and the plain smug, a group of English journalists implored him to explain how Germany had done it again. No, make that how they always managed to do it.

You see, it's like this, Jens. Your boys were outplayed by a Turkish team so decimated by injuries that 'heroes' seemed a fitting description for them. Yet somehow justice was not served. You'd been pegged back with an 86th-minute equaliser thanks to poor defending from Philipp Lahm yet, far from feeling crushed and sorry for himself, that same player - a full-back, no less - stormed up the field and won it four minutes later. Explain that, Jens.

And how come that you yourself looked every bit of 38 years in that goal, had a bit of shocker but still ended up winning? And why at no point during this incredible roller-coaster evening was there ever a moment when the outcome - Germany reaching their sixth European final - didn't seem inevitable?

To which Herr Lehmann just smiled sweetly and responded: "No, we won't tell you - because it's our secret!"

Ah, the old tease. If only that age-old secret could ever be bottled outside Germany. Once again, the football world was left spluttering with the descriptions offered by the conquerors themselves. "Perseverance", "mental strength", "a winner's mentality", "self-belief" were all trotted out. Coach Joachim Loew even deigned to accept the idea of "a bit of luck".

Yet to one of their opponents, it was their cold-hearted ruthlessness. Leytonstone lad Colin Kazim-Richards, like so many of his Turkish team-mates, had perhaps the game of his life, as he tormented Lahm, hit the woodwork twice - the second leading to their opener through Ugur Boral - and played a huge role in the underdogs' unexpected midfield domination.

Yet his final memory was slumping to the turf with a twisted leg in the 90th minute as he chased Lahm, who, apparently as tireless as the Duracell bunny, broke down the left, took a return pass from Thomas Hitzlsperger and crashed home "the most important goal" of his life to finally out-Turkey Turkey, the kings of the late, late comeback. Kazim-Richards had felt the game should have been stopped for his injury.

"They should be a little bit upset at their winning goal," he pondered. "This tournament has been based around fair play and we've done it throughout. I can't say if I was in their position that I would have done the same thing but it was upsetting because I'm not the sort of guy to stay down if it's not serious."

Indeed, he was substituted immediately afterwards, even though the Turks were so depleted, down to 13-and-a-half fit players, that his replacement Tumer Metin really was their last man standing. It was impossible not to feel sympathy for this incredible crew after they'd raised the tantalising possibility of a fourth impossible comeback when Semih Senturk had somehow squeezed the ball inside Lehmann's near post to make it 2-2 just four minutes from time.

Yet didn't Turkey understand? Their never-say-die spirit may have been the most wonderful story of this event, as Fatih Terim declared before announcing that he may well step down as coach now, but nobody cherishes resilience like these Germans. It's in their DNA.

"In the end, Turkey didn't win because we beat them at their own game. They thought they'd come back at us - but in fact we came back even later at them," said Lehmann. Lahm was just unreal; skinned for Turkey's equaliser but he just never stopped believing.

Nobody does it better, all right. This was a poor German performance; their earlier goals from Bastian Schweinsteiger - a critical and immediate response to Turkey's opener - and Miroslav Klose came from rare opportunities as Turkey created twice as many chances, had twice as many shots and four times as many on target.

They lost their rhythm, lost the midfield, Michael Ballack went quiet and both their potential final opposition can only have been encouraged.

Except that they will be protected by Jens's secret, that force field of history, tradition and winning that no other European national team can boast. Kazim-Richards has made his name here - made it twice, actually, as Kazim Kazim - but like every Englishman, he was forced to again recognise the facts of European footballing life.

"We were the better team but we lost," he sighed. "They knew how to win; they were too organised and too experienced." Yes, just too German.