Every four years football goes in search of a great team, world champions worthy of comparison, and every four years, it is seemingly let down.

How can you compare to Brazil's 1970 World Cup incomparables? That's the problem.

So the fervent hope, now the quarter-finals of the 2010 edition are upon us with the teams which Maradona calls the "gala" outfits – Brazil, Argentina, Holland, Germany and Spain – all safely ensconced is that another rare champion for the ages will emerge.

There have been tantalising glimpses to suggest it is not impossible; Germany's youthful vibrancy, Argentina's delightful attacking incisions and a Dutch side now ready to look to its dramatic island, called Robben.

Yet above all stands the formidable might of Dunga's Brazil and the 'receive, pass, offer' poetry of Vicente Del Bosque's Spain, which offers the fantasy that one of this pair, in particular, could yet bloom into the best winners we have seen in two generations.

It still feels that when Mario Zagallo's 1970 team cut through Mexico's thin air with a brand of dazzling brilliance the game had never encountered before, it became instantly both the sport's milestone and its millstone.

For the benchmark has not been reached since. The Brazil of 1982, of Zico, Socrates et al, were wondrous. So were Johan Cruyff's total footballing Dutch masters of 1974? Yet like the great Hungarians of 1954, both were ultimately losers.

My picks for the best champion teams of the past 40 years would be the Germans of 1974 and Italy 1982, teams in the best sense whose collective excellence doused genius. And the Brazilians of 2002 too, considering they were the first since 1970 to win every game in the finals.

Neither Spain, caught cold by Switzerland, nor Brazil, stalemated by a stiflingly negative Portugal, can now emulate that feat but their second round performances have highlighted their potential to reach a new pinnacle.

With their ability to subject Portugal to death by a thousand passes in a way which Brazil couldn't, while still never quite clicking into their flowing best, Spain's players left Cape Town believing that the world has not seen the best of them yet.

"We'll see if we're better than the team that won the European Championship," said Xabi Alonso, knowing that achieving the double with an outfit which has lost just two of its last 52 games would hallmark its greatness. "It's a different moment, a different team to 2008, but our expectation now is to get a little bit better with every game."

And they are, with Iniesta and Xavi beginning to increasingly master the lightness of the Jabulani and with David Villa bustling and bristling to the point where he probably fancies himself to win both the Golden Ball and the Golden Boot.

The old swagger is starting to course through them. Gerard Pique, part of their marvellous Barcelona spine, noted after the Portugal triumph: "We have so many players with a lot of quality, it enables you to control games, makes it a lot easier to win games. We're not reliant on one player; we can cope when some of our top players are not at their best." Like Fernando Torres, he did not hasten to add.

Brazil have similar, enviable depth of talent. Elano, who has long been a key to Dunga's plans, was left moaning yesterday about how Ivorian midfielder Ismael Tiote may have kicked him out of the World Cup – he definitely will not play against Holland on Friday – with a dismal challenge which has left him with a bruised ankle bone.

Yet Brazil seem to have hardly missed him. Their triumph over Chile was a masterpiece of domination in every area. And, let's forget this myth that they somehow betray the traditions of joga bonito. They don't. They are just redrawing it for the 21st century.

The speed of the modern game, quite dramatically pronounced at this tournament, and the quality of opposition now cannot allow for all out, cavalier abandon. As Dunga says, his players have "the liberty to play" but, first, you have to slave to find the freedom in a game where space is shrunken by pace.

Dunga's Brazil are meticulously prepared, full of magnificent athleticism, from back with Lucio to front with Fabiano, and honed to a peak of physical fitness by not being run into the ground. And they may have nurtured their creative wonder back to near his best at just the right time too. Yes, says Kaka, drooling over the Holland tie in Port Elizabeth, he's ready for "a classic, for the game everyone wants to see and every players wants to play in!"

The Dutch are unbeaten in 23 now but they still need Arjen Robben, as his superb goal against Slovakia illustrated, to flick their switch. Yet the most tantalising thought remains that it's Argentina who have the greatest capacity for further illumination. Imagine it; they are the tournament's top scorers with 10 goals and Lionel Messi, while being dazzling, has still not netted one.

Watching Maradona's virtuoso assortment is like dipping into a box of chocolates and not knowing what treat is next. A Tévez surprise?

Messi truffle? Di Maria delight? Even Joachim Loew's fearless youths sound just a little awestruck when talking about them. "A different league to England," Miroslav Klose reminds his mates with sober intent.

You cannot imagine a truly great team ever having a defence as suspect as Argentina's yet should they overcome Germany in Cape Town on Saturday, no mean feat in itself, it would be hard not to be enchanted by the prospect of them duelling with a Spanish side who will surely be too good for Paraguay.

But it's Brazil who still carry that whiff of history again. It is just a pity that the greats of that mould-breaking 1970 side, like Carlos Alberto and Rivelino themselves, keep expressing their contempt for their inheritors. Forget it. These are old men grouching. The young men are still dreaming.