What? No football today? Or tomorrow!? It was hard enough getting used to there only being two games a day for the last round of the group stages. And last Friday’s rest day wasn’t easy. Now you’re telling me the semi-finals don’t kick off until Friday!?

Fortunately, there is much to reflect on.

There is absolutely no doubt that Brasil 2014 has already been infinitely better than South Africa 2010 – and possibly the best World Cup of my lifetime. Not just for the moments of sheer, jaw-dropping brilliance – from Robin Van Persie’s headed goal against Spain to Tim Howard’s heroic display in goal last night – but also for the prevailing spirit of adventure. It’s not just the tactics that have to be admired: there has also (with a couple of obvious and notorious exceptions) been a relative lack of the kind of cynical cheating that has blighted previous World Cups.

The Dutch set the tone on Day 2 with that 5-1 dismantling of Spain, and the difference in approach from the final fours years ago was telling. With hindsight, it is easy to see that Spain (and perhaps tiki-taka) are not the force they were, but it was refreshing to see the Dutch not feeling the need to park the bus or kick lumps out of the opposition.

Indeed, there has been precious little bus-parking in this tournament. Where they have been seen, buses have instead been left idling, ready to roar off down the other end of the pitch, driven by the likes of Holland’s Arjen Robben and Colombia’s Juan Cuadrado. Even England – against Italy, at least – entered into the spirit of things. Compared to four years ago (and eight years ago, for that matter), England played an infinitely more watchable brand of football against Italy.  If England are going to lose (and let’s face it, they are), then better to lose like that.

So, how to explain this fashion for cavalier, attacking football?

Perhaps it is a culmination of rule changes designed to favour the attacking team, aided by lenient and, on the whole, excellent refereeing. The dying art of defending, and a distinct lack of great defenders can also rightly be pointed to. The standard of goalkeeping, helped by a ball that isn’t quite so unpredictable as previous editions, has rightly been lauded, but it is also a reflection of the standard of defending. Manuel Neuer’s excellence as a sweeper-keeper against Algeria, for example, was born of necessity, given the suicidal positioning of the terminally slow Per Mertesacker.

These are hardly new trends, however. Has football really changed that much since Greece were winning Euro 2004, or Chelsea were winning the Champions League just two years ago? If it has, it is a change in attitude. I’m sure this change in attitude, rather than being a noble attempt to give the fans what they want, is just a practical solution to the problem of winning football matches, but long may it continue. Football has always been a balance between attack and defence, and, for now at least, that balance seems to be just perfect.