Of all the sports events I haven’t covered that I would like to … the Euro Cup is in the top five.

I’ve been lucky, and covered lots of things I had no expectation of being able to cover, when I got my first journalism job. The obvious big things, plus one-shot dates at the Masters, the Indianapolis 500, the Kentucky Derby, et al.

But there are some holes on my resume. Euro Cup is on there. The others would be … an NCAA Final Four (never done one; true story), a baseball game in Fenway, a baseball game in Wrigley … and maybe another soccer event, the African Nations Cup. I think that would be seriously funky. Or maybe a French Open (though tennis is getting dull, and tennis on clay is really dull).

Euro Cup is a 16-country event staged in Olympic years (that is, two years after/before the World Cup). It’s No. 2 in the “national team” soccer tournaments, after only the World Cup. And ahead of the Copa America (South America’s championship) and African Nations.

When you’re talking Europe, you’re talking a continent where everyone plays soccer. Everyone. Even more than other continents. In South America you’ve got Venezuela, where baseball is bigger, in Asia you have Japan (also baseball) and India/Pakistan (cricket). In North America, Canada (hockey) and the USA (baseball, basketball, football, maybe even hockey) rate ahead of soccer.

But Europe? Unless you try to tell me Finland prefers hockey or Lithuania prefers hoops … there’s really nothing to discuss.

Anyway, I just watched Germany defeat Portugal 3-2 in the quarterfinals, and I just decided to type up some musings about the game, the tournament and the sport. That’s the point of a blog, yes?

–What makes Germany such a soccer force? Why are the Germans (almost) always hanging around the latter stages of the World Cup and Euro Cup? In any given tournament, you would look at the individuals of a batch of national teams and say, “more talent there than the Germans,” but then they play … and the Germans win.

Perfect example, today. Portugal has scads of individual talent, led by Cristiano Ronaldo, perhaps the best player on the planet at the moment, and the Germans won.

I’m thinking it’s team cohesion. Attention to detail. Mental toughness. And whatever it is, it lasts over generations, too. And another thing: For a game with a reputation for being so free-flowing and spur-of-the-moment … why are the regimented and relentless Germans so good at it? Something there doesn’t fit.

Anyway, the Deutschland pedigree: Germans have made seven World Cup title games and won three. They’ve reached four Euro Cup finals and won three. And don’t bet against them winning this thing, too.

–Portugal trails perhaps only Spain as a perennial disappointment on the world stage. Zero World Cup or Euro Cup championships. One final appearance in either event — the 2004 Euro Cup, which Portugal hosted but somehow lost to (yes) Greece.

Spain? Zero World Cup finals. One Euro Cup, just the other day — in 1964, when Spain was the host.

–Spain and Portugal (and Holland, for that matter) are known for individual skill and attacking soccer, but none have done much winning. (Holland won the 1988 Euro Cup and lost the 1974 and 1978 World Cup finals.) But Brazil and Argentina are known for individual talent, too, and it doesn’t seem to keep them from winning major championships.

Five World Cups for Brazil, and two more title appearances. Two World Cups for Argentina, and two runner-up finishes. And one or the other almost always wins the South American title.

–Speaking of overrated on the world stage, we can’t overlook England, erstwhile “masters of the game.” The planet’s best soccer league plays in that country, the place is obsessed by the game, yet it has zero Euro titles, zero Euro finals appearances and that one and only World Cup title — in 1966, when the English hosted. Plus, the English are making it an unfortunate habit of not making tournaments at all. Like the current Euro Cup and the 1994 World Cup.

–Soccer players are tiny. Like actors. Everyone is smaller than you think. Everyone. A 6-foot field player is a monster, in soccer. And nobody on the field weighs 175 pounds except, maybe, a goalkeeper. Bitsy is the rule. The medium-sized soccer guy? Real world, he’s probably 5-9, 150.

That’s nice, in a lot of ways, in that it makes soccer the Everyman Game. Well, everyman’s game as long as every man on the pitch runs for 90 minutes. But, in theory, just about anyone could … if they trained hard enough.

Think of American pro sports. Guys the size of soccer players have no chance in the NBA, no chance in the NFL (unless he makes it as a runtish return specialist), and only a couple of shots at a baseball team — as a middle infielder or a left-handed pitcher. Soccer? You almost can’t be too tiny.

But Portugal lowered the bar, today, for tiny. Smaller-than-Mexico tiny. Ronaldo seemed to be their biggest player, and I’d bet he’s 5-10, 160. Even their defenders were tiny. Like, 5-6, 140 tiny. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a smaller “good” team.

–I love soccer as a spectacle. I have serious issues with it as a game. Scoring is so limited that far too many games are decided 1-0 by flukish goals. In no other sport does an inferior team have such a good chance of winning. That’s fun, for the underdog, but maddening for the better team. I believe excellence should be rewarded; too often, soccer fails at that.

I also have issues with the way soccer is officiated. One guy can’t begin to keep track of everything, and so many crucial calls are utterly random and often wrong. Penalty kicks, for example. Was that a penalty in the box … or not? And offsides … don’t even get me started. Perhaps no rule in sports is so critical to a game yet so inconsistently called. I would go mad if I actually felt attached to a team and saw 25-50 percent of all games turn on an offside flag — waved or not waved.

–We’re down to six games left in the Euro Cup, and the one I perhaps would be most interested in seeing is a Holland-Spain semifinal. Followed by a Germany-Holland title match.