Minutes before the epic clash between Brazil and France on the football field, spirits were high literally and figuratively.

Holders Brazil were to clash with `upstart' France and at the embassy all were confident of victory even before the match started. France had achieved its moment of glory by reaching the finals but the Cup belonged to Brazil. The Cup will stay with Brazil, said everyone between gulps of chilled beer that flowed like water at the Embassy.

Even Doordarshan appeared to be rooting for Brazil when the host of the World Cup show said he was for Brazil.

As the players jogged onto the field in Paris, mugs were raised to cheer Roberto Carlos, Ronaldo and Rivaldo.

There was wild chanting of ``Brazil-Brazil'' in the embassy auditorium. The 27th minute of the match, however, the auditorium was enveloped in a stunned silence. France had scored first against Brazil. The silence was broken as diplomatic sweet nothings disappeared and diplomats screamed profanities. The beer and wafer replenishment did not flow at the same pace. But everybody expressed faith in Carlos and his gang of 11.

When France headed closer to victory with Zidane's second header, depression creeped in. The wild cheering turned to slow groaning and moaning at every missed opportunity.

By half time the beer and wafer supply dwindled to nothing as the spirits of Brazilian supporters sagged. ``It ain't over till it is over,'' Imalda Faro, a Brazilian tourist said lighting a cigarette. ``Yeh Carlos to pagal ho gaya hai (Carlos has gone mad)'', somebody screamed from the rear of the room as Roberto Carlos failed to capitalise on a brilliant pass. When French player Desailly was shown the red card, a wild cheer went up and once again slogans of `Brazil will win' rent the air.

In the second half of the game Brazil did adopt an attacking posture but could not enthuse the spectators either in Paris or at the embassy in New Delhi. ``There's champagne at the French Embassy,'' somebody whispered putting down a mobile phone, and suddenly there was a mass exodus. The auditorium where people were fighting for a toe-hold was suddenly almost empty and the air conditioner became very effective. In the dying minutes when France scored a third, Brazil's fate was sealed. Lights came on in the auditorium before the match was over. Empty mugs, empty plates and an empty auditorium. In the foyer Brazilian supporters cried and hugged each other. The impossible had happened. The guests at the Embassy were at a loss for words and quietly slunk away as the hosts wept.

The impressive fireworks display that had been planned was shelved and the grand party never took off.