Simon Parker column

THERE is no football game more pointless than the World Cup's third-placed play-off.

Pre-season results mean absolutely nothing but at least friendlies like City's visit to Guiseley this afternoon serve the purpose of building up match fitness levels ahead of the days when the goal tally will matter.

But what exactly is to be gained from a game between two semi-final losers?

Billy Bremner once famously wrote that "you get nowt for being second". As for the dubious honour of being credited with finishing third, there are no bronze medals for the players.

When we fondly recall England's efforts in Italia '90, the vivid memories are Gazza's tears, Lineker's gesticulation to the bench and Pearce and Waddle with their spot-kicks from Hell.

Nobody talks about the game that followed their German anguish.

The highlight of the third-placed affair against the hosts was a Mexican wave featuring both sets of substitutes. That's how serious they were taking it!

It's a contest that none of the players want to be anywhere near. Having got within touching distance of the final itself, the natural tendency would be to head for the nearest airport/beach/dark room and try to forget their huge disappointment.

Instead, the two teams of nearly men are expected to give it one last hurrah before a disinterested audience.

The modern city of Brasilia plays host to one of these classic non-events later today. Once again the home nation will be involved.

Only this time, don't expect any high jinx in the dugout or playing up to the crowd. For Brazil, the simple process of putting on their boots one last time will be revisiting the country's worst nightmare.

Four days on from the most humiliating scoreline in the country's footballing history, those players who were all awarded zero in the match ratings must face the music once again.

A traumatised nation must don the famous yellow shirts one final time and attempt to show the world there is no lasting damage. Who are they trying to kid?

Pele, Zico, Socrates, Carlos Alberto, Ronaldo – the legendary Brazilian names roll off the tongue.

But now there is a new chapter of infamy; players who will not be forgotten for all the wrong reasons. David Luiz, Maicon, Hulk and Fred will be forever linked with their night of shame against the Germans.

In 1950, a loss to Uruguay in the Maracana provoked nationwide hysteria. One of the surviving players was quoted this week saying that he was still reminded about it.

That shambolic lot who were bludgeoned by Germany will now have to live with the same burden. Even given the insular selfishness of some footballers, there will be those who will never recover.

A World Cup that had begun in such cavalier and carnival fashion has finished as a wake for football's proudest home.

Brazil were not expected to win it – not by the serious pundits anyway – but then no-one could have imagined such a brutal exit.

Third place, however convincingly achieved against an equally unmotivated Holland, will appear no more of an effective answer than a sticking plaster over a severed limb.