Three Dutch managers entered Euro 2008 and one has now fallen at every stage. The surprise had not been that Leo Beenhakker, in charge of Poland, fell out first, the shock was than Marcio Van Basten, in charge of the thus far thrilling Holland, went next. Three or four possible new Chelsea managers lined up at the beginning of the tournament. The one who got the job, Luiz Felipe Scolari, went home to prepare for the role last Thursday night after Portugal’s quarter-final defeat by Germany. The long-term contender, Guus Hiddink, stays on, his Russia now in the semis.

Hiddink and Roman Abramovich, Chelsea’s owner, are close, and without their London-based patron, Russia would not have employed this savvy, successful man. Perhaps Chelsea ought to have excercised any option they may have had. Hiddink added considerably to his impressive CV last night, rightly saying his team had overcome Holland “tactically, mentally, and physically”, and though few would dispute the scoreline did justice to the more accomplished team, Russia’s earlier failures in front of goal had let grow the suspicion that Holland’s experience against Euro 2008’s youngest squad might still prevail.

It did not. Hiddink has educated these Russians quickly. “These young men are the same as the young men everywhere else in Europe,” he explained recently, demystifying his Russians for the benefit of reporters who wanted to ask the usual questions: How come this massive country had never seemed to punch its weight at football in the way it does at, say, women’s tennis? Or even in the way it used to in the old USSR or CIS? His young Russians were the same as modern footballers anywhere, Hiddink continued: “There’s no use in giving them political speeches, or patriotic or military ones. They’re not interested in that.”

Hiddink was not being cleverly clairvoyant, not anticipating an awkward quarter-final before which any patriotic rabble-rousing by a Dutchman in charge of Russians against Holland would have sounded empty or plain surreal. He was just telling us about the real-life codes of international football, at least in Europe. Flag-waving, nationalistic breast-beating may have its place, but the team at this competition most in favour of that sort of motivation, Croatia, found it can only go so far. Among most of the quarter-finalists here, an ability to sing the words, know the tune and feel the heartbeat in time to a national anthem can seem incidental. Portugal fielded two Brazilians every game and were managed by another. Spain have a Brazilian in midfield, so do Turkey. Italy field an Argentinian on one of their wings. Germany’s highest goalscorer here, Lukas Podolski, is a man born in Poland who felt obliged to praise his native country and personally salute their fans after his goal had defeated them. The Poles, in turn, had a Dutchman as manager.

So have the Russians. The temptation last night was to recognise Hiddink’s Russia as rather Dutch in style because of their manager. They played with ambition, flair and enterprise and, like the old stereotype of the brilliant, flakey Oranje, they did not capitalise on their chances. Or not until late. Russia’s full-backs took on the habits of wingers willingly and caused great discomfort. Russia attacked eagerly even once they had gone a goal up through Roman Pavlyuchenko and in that they have consistent since arriving in Austria. Their first match, a 4-1 defeat by Spain, could have been construed as unfairly unflattering. Hiddink made sure they read it as such. They came back confidently, good winners against Greece and then Sweden and the better starters against Holland, by which time the brilliant Andre Arshavin had cleared his suspension. Arshavin outshone Wesley Sneijder and Rafael van der Vaart in Basle, and his goal will help that to be remembered.

This was Arshavin’s victory perhaps most of all the Russian players. And it was Hiddink’s. The Russia coach was making his fifth adventure in the knockout phase of a major nation-against-nation tournament in five attempts, which, if he had only ever been in charge of his native country would have been remarkable enough. Hiddink managed Holland in the mid1990s. Veterans in Dutch team yesterday like Gio Van Bronckhorst and Andre Ooijer knew him from back them. Hiddink was an unlucky Holland boss when you consider he fell short of taking them to a World Cup final, in France, because of a defeat on penalties. He may also have been unfortunate to inherit a talented but immature group. One of them, the midfielder Edgar Davids, provided the remark that would stand on the tombstone of Holland’s factious Euro 96. “It would help us,” Davids said, “if the head coach removed his head from the white players’ arses.”

It would turn out, in case anybody doubted it, that Hiddink is nobody’s patsy, white, black, Asian, Aussie, or Muscovite. He sent Davids home from England that summer and kept the Holland job another two years. He would then join South Korea as they took on the pressure of co-hosting a World Cup. He told the Korean FA he wanted their domestic season shifted so he could concentrate his players on the task. His Koreans emerged competitive enough to oust Spain and Italy from that World Cup and make the semi-finals. Hiddink then took the Australia job at the same time as coaching PSV and pushed the Socceroos to the verge of the 2006 World Cup quarter-finals. The Russia job has been interesting, he says, and Abramovich felt as content as he could be with his investment - he pays Hiddink’s salary - because Russia have raised their bar. When Pavlyuchenko hit the Dutch crossbar in extra time, Abramovich the patriot gasped. Seeing Arshavin confirm a semi-final place, he may have wondered if he ought to have put Hiddink in charge of Chelsea, instead of the Brazilian he chose 10 days ago.