The Story of the World Cup
Page 32
By now, Hansi Muller is on, but it is not the Muller whom one knew and admired in 1980. Still, he it is, when Conti brings down Briegel on the left, who takes a free kick. The Italian defence fails to get it away and Paul Breitner, on what once was his home ground but by now must seem very alien territory, swoops to beat Zoff, and give Germany what may laughingly be described as a consolation goal.
Italy, as in 1970, have bested West Germany in a World Cup; though this time it is the Final, rather than the semi-final. There is time for Bearzot, sentimentally, to send on the veteran Franco Causio in place of Altobelli to give him a World Cup medal. Then the game is over, the Cup is Zoff ’s, and there is nothing left to do but for the ineffable Madrid police to club the photograhers who are trying to take pictures of the scene.
So the 1982 competition ended in a manner wholly inconceivable a mere couple of weeks before. That Italy deserved their trophy, that Paolo Rossi was the player of the tournament, that it would have been a sorry thing for the game had West Germany won; all this is quite undeniable. Yet the competition left behind many imponderables.
Predictably João Havelange, whose fault it chiefly was and who had wished his twenty-four-team monstrosity on the world, insisted that it had been a splendid success even if he could scarcely avoid rebuking the disgraceful Spanish organisation, the disgrace of Mundiespana, with their over-priced accommodation and their inept distribution of tickets. It was also fairly plain that Colombia would never be able to put on a twenty-four-team World Cup; but then, how many countries could? In due course the United States would lobby for the 1986 tournament, but it was Mexico who suddenly and—in terms of logic rather than advantage—inexplicably emerged as favourites to put it on again, despite the fact that they had had it in 1970, despite the horrors of high altitude, and the fact that the country was $80 million in the red.
Brazil had seemed, after the inevitable withdrawal of Colombia, the obvious choice, even if its debts were more than $100 million, but the bitter enmity between Havelange and the President of the Brazilian Football Federation, Giulite Coutinho, led, astonishingly, to Havelange setting his face against the tournament being played in his own country; and eventually having his way.
Havelange alone was not to blame for the twenty-four-team tournament. Artemio Franchi, the Italian President of uefa, the European body, had been against it from the first, but he was betrayed by the European countries who pursued their own narrow advantage, enticed by the fact that most of them would have a double chance to qualify.
England were among those who slipped through because the field was enlarged, demonstrating that it was not merely the Afro-Asian bloc which benefited from the expansion.
It was significant that while various minor Third World countries gave a reasonable account of themselves, none of them survived beyond the third round. The victory of Algeria over West Germany was almost an historic one, but as we have seen, the Algerians quickly came down to earth against the Austrians. The pity of it was that the World Cup, no longer an elimination contest since 1938, could not reward such feats of giant killing with the qualification they clearly deserved.
The twenty-four-team complement meant that the World Cup dragged on for a weary month; the wearier because Spain was hit by an unpredictable heat wave, forcing some teams, such as Northern Ireland and Austria, to play in an afternoon heat of 110 degrees. No wonder Hidalgo of France complained as he did about the advantages offered to teams chosen heads of series, who did not have to travel out of their ‘centre’ cities.
Tactically, it was hard to draw many lessons from the World Cup. If Brazil were the ‘moral’ victors, they could scarcely complain about their defenestration by Italy; they had to blame their own sloppy defensive mistakes, their own inadequacies up front. In 1970, Brazil had won the World Cup despite a weak goalkeeper and an indifferent defence. But then, they had not only a superb midfield but a magnificent attack, with Pelé incomparable and wonderfully inventive; Tostao, a clever and resourceful centre-forward; Jairzinho the latest in what seemed an endless line of superlative outside-rights.
Suddenly, however, it dried up. Jairzinho himself had been at centre-forward in 1974, and at centre-forward, Tostao—or perhaps the unfortunate Reinaldo—seemed the last of the line.
It had been generally agreed that Argentina would never have won the 1978 World Cup anywhere but Argentina, and their disappointing performances in Spain gave fuel to such an argument. The fading of Kempes, the inability of young Diaz and, above all, Maradona to live up to their promise, the indifferent World Cup of Ardiles, condemned the Argentines to elimination. Only a Maradona at his best could have saved them, and with the exception of the Hungarian game, Maradona was never at his best.
The British attempt was similarly disappointing. Once again the parts of the Scottish team were greater than the whole. Against Brazil, well though they played, they were shown to be tactically and technically well below the level of the world’s best. Northern Ireland, who had been their runners-up in the qualifying group, surpassed themselves, shrewdly managed by little Billy Bingham, though in the event, they were once again shown, as in 1958, to be living above their means.
England, like Scotland in 1974, were knocked out without losing a single game, but one might have had more sympathy with them had they sometimes tried harder to win them.
Those of us who thought that Ron Greenwood should have been politely thanked and put out to graze in 1980 after his abject performance in the Nations Cup Finals, and that Kevin Keegan should have been similarly despatched, saw no reason to change our views. The English, in effect, played two good games; against the French, who would later on transform, and the Czechs, both well beaten in Bilbao. The rest was anticlimax and insufficiency, though it is still legitimate to speculate what a fully fit Bryan Robson and a fit Trevor Brooking might have done.
For Bearzot, the World Cup success was a wonderful vindication against his spiteful critics in the Press, the Brutus who, as he complained, lurked at his back. Should he have quit while he was ahead, retired at once from a job which he had done so well, in which he had twice confounded his malign detractors? Perhaps, but the temptation to stay on was too much for him and, away from the benign rigours, the blessed privacy of training camp, the azzurri quickly slid down the slope with a string of bad results in the Nations Cup.
Never mind. Bearzot had proved his point and won his triumph; in his own quite different way, the most successful Italian team manager since Vittorio Pozzo. And Pozzo, though he dealt with highly temperamental players, never had to put up with such a vindictive Press, never had a Brutus at his back.
For all the rancid memories of what Gentile did to Maradona in Barcelona, one had to feel happy for Bearzot: a good man who, for the moment at least, had splendidly routed all his enemies.
RESULTS: Spain 1982
First round
Group I
Vigo, La Coruna
Italy 0, Poland 0
Cameroons 0, Peru 0
Italy 1, Peru 1
Cameroons 0, Poland 0
Poland 5, Peru 1
Italy 1, Cameroons 1
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Poland 3 1 2 0 5 1 4
Italy 3 0 3 0 2 2 3
Cameroons 3 0 3 0 1 1 3
Peru 3 0 2 1 2 6 2
Group II
Gijon, Oviedo
Algeria 2, West Germany 1
Austria 1, Chile 0
West Germany 4, Chile 1
Algeria 0, Austria 2
Algeria 3, Chile 2
West Germany 1, Austria 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
West Germany 3 2 0 1 6 3 4
Austria 3 2 0 1 3 1 4
Algeria 3 2 0 1 5 5 4
Chile 3 0 0 3 3 8 0
Group III
Barcelona, Alicante, Elche
Argentina 0, Belgium 1
Hungary 10, El Savador 1
Argentina 4, Hungary 1
/> Belgium 1, El Salvador 0
Belgium 1, Hungary 1
Argentina 2, El Salvador 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Belgium 3 2 1 0 3 1 5
Argentina 3 2 0 1 6 2 4
Hungary 3 1 1 1 12 6 3
El Salvador 3 0 0 3 1 13 0
Group IV
Bilbao, Valladolid
England 3, France 1
Czechoslovakia 1, Kuwait 1
England 2, Czechoslovakia 0
France 4, Kuwait 1
France 1, Czechoslovakia 1
England 1, Kuwait 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
England 3 3 0 0 6 1 6
France 3 1 1 1 6 5 3
Czechoslovakia 3 0 2 1 2 4 2
Kuwait 3 0 1 2 2 6 1
Group V
Valencia, Saragossa
Spain 1, Honduras 1
Yugoslavia 0, Northern Ireland 0
Spain 2, Yugoslavia 1
Honduras 1, Northern Ireland 1
Honduras 0, Yugoslavia 1
Spain 0, Northern Ireland 1
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
N. Ireland 3 1 2 0 2 1 4
Spain 3 1 1 0 3 3 3
Yugoslavia 3 1 1 1 2 2 3
Honduras 3 0 2 1 2 3 2
Group VI
Seville, Malaga
Brazil 2, Russia 1
Scotland 5, New Zealand 2
Brazil 4, Scotland 1
Russia 3, New Zealand 0
Scotland 2, Russia 2
Brazil 4, New Zealand 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Brazil 3 3 0 0 10 2 6
Russia 3 1 1 1 6 4 3
Scotland 3 1 1 1 8 8 3
New Zealand 3 0 0 3 2 12 0
Second round
Group A
Nou Camp, Barcelona
Poland 3, Belgium 0
Belgium 0, Russia 1
Russia 0, Poland 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Poland 2 1 1 0 3 0 3
Russia 2 1 1 0 1 0 3
Belgium 2 0 0 2 0 4 0
Group B
Bernabeu, Madrid
West Germany 0, England 0
West Germany 2, Spain 1
Spain 0, England 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
West Germany 2 1 1 0 2 1 3
England 2 0 2 0 0 0 2
Spain 2 0 1 1 1 2 1
Group C
Sarria Stadium, Barcelona
Italy 2, Argentina 1
Brazil 3, Argentina 1
Italy 3, Brazil 2
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Italy 2 2 0 0 5 3 4
Brazil 2 1 0 1 5 4 2
Argentina 2 0 0 2 2 5 0
Group D
Calderon, Madrid
France 1, Austria 0
Austria 2, Northern Ireland 2
France 4, Northern Ireland 1
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
France 2 2 0 0 5 1 4
Austria 2 0 1 1 2 3 1
N. Ireland 2 0 1 1 3 6 1
Semi-finals
Nou Camp, Barcelona
Italy 2, Poland 0
Seville
West Germany 3, France 3
After extra time, West Germany won on
penalty kicks
Third-place match
Alicante
Poland 3 France 2
Mlynarczyk; Dziuba Castaneda; Amoros,
Janas, Zmuda, Mahut, Trésor, Janvion
Majewski; Lato, (Lopez); Tigana (Six),
Kupcewicz, Matysik Girard, Larios;
(Wojcicji), Buncol; Couriol, Soler, Bellone.
Boniek, Szarmach.
SCORERS
Szarmach, Majewski, Kupcewicz for Poland
Girard, Couriol for France
HT (1–2)
Final
Bernabeu, Madrid
Italy 3 West Germany 1
Zoff; Scirea; Bergomi, Schumacher; Stielike;
Gentile, Collovati, Kaltz, K-H. Foerster,
Cabrini; Tardelli, B. Foerster, Briegel;
Oriali; Conti, Rossi, Dremmler
Graziani (Altobelli, (Hrubesch), Breitner;
Conti). Littbarski,
Rummenigge
(H. Muller), Fischer.
SCORERS
Rossi, Tardelli, Altobelli for Italy
Breitner for West Germany
HT (0–0)
MEXICO
1986
At the end of the 1982 World Cup, João Havelange, the President of FIFA, flew directly to Mexico City in a plane owned by Emilio Azcarraga, head of Televisa Mexicana. It was then that Colombia, the designated hosts of the 1986 World Cup, might just as well have thrown in the towel.
Immensely rich, enormously influential, owner not only of Televisa but of the Spanish International Network in the USA, employer of Guillermo Canedo, former President of the Mexican Football Federation, Azcarraga was a man with much in his gift. ‘My conscience is clear,’ Havelange would later say. ‘Other people may write or say what they like.’ But the fact remains that whatever the deficiencies of Colombia as host, Mexico appeared a remote outsider.
Initially, it had seemed that the nightmare scenario of a 24-team World Cup would be visited only on those countries large and rich enough to support it. Colombia clearly couldn’t. In retrospect, given the appalling level of violence there, the penetration of football by drug dealers, the brutal intimidation of referees, perhaps it was as well Colombia was bypassed.
But Mexico? Mexico, with the familiar problems of height and heat, of oxygen debt and the expensive need to acclimatise? How could the World Cup possibly go there, again? But go there it did, and it became clear that no other country had a chance. The United States, who’d be allotted the 1994 World Cup, put in a bid, but when the FIFA World Cup committee met in Stockholm in May 1983, it was not even discussed. Such was the hegemony of Havelange over the committee not even the presence of Henry Kissinger in the American delegation was of any avail.
In the event, the World Cup was a good one, despite the weather conditions and the altitude, despite shocking pitches in Monterrey and Mexico City, despite the lamentable introduction of penalty kicks to decide games which had not been resolved in extra time.
It will always be remembered as Maradona’s World Cup. Seldom has a player, even Pelé, so dominated the competition. There were the two amazing goals he scored, whatever the pitch, in the Azteca Stadium against England and Belgium. The notorious goal he punched, in the same stadium, against England, attributing it later to ‘the hand of God’. In an era when individual talent was at a premium, defensive football more prevalent than ever, Maradona—squat, muscular, explosive, endlessly adroit—showed that a footballer of genius could still prevail. Yet, irony of ironies, when it came to the Final, when Argentina met West Germany, Maradona was relatively subdued. Even then, he produced passes of devastating effect and flair.
The odd thing is that for many months, he seemed likely not to play at all. He had trouble, we were told, with the cartilage of his right knee. There were two alternatives. Either he had the operation he needed, which would put him out of the World Cup. Or he would play, and risk breaking down at any moment.
In the event he played, twisted and turned in his electric way, showed no sign of pain or trouble, and never had the operation. A mystery which has never truly been explained.
It seemed fairly clear that Italy would not hang on to their title. The heroes were tired, Enzo Bearzot among them. His flair for ‘detoxifying’ Italian players from the effects of their debilitating Championship had waned, as had such players as Paolo Rossi. Gentile was no longer there to maltreat and mark opposing forwards. Gianluca Vialli of Sampdoria, who shaved his head before the tournament, had shown high promise as a striker, but his international experience was scant. Perhaps Bruno Conti, so admired by Pelé four years earlier, could pi
ck the team up and inspire it, but the task was great.
West Germany, as ever, had to be respected, if only for their amazing record and resilience in World Cups. In charge of them now was their old hero and captain, Franz Beckenbauer. Going wholly against their traditions, the dfb, the West German fa, had installed him as team manager though he had never taken any of their mandatory courses. It was hoped that his sheer prestige would be an inspiration—a hope which would be justified in two successive World Cups.
But the team hardly looked inspired. Karl-Heinz Rummenigge had been beset by injury. Without him, the quick centre-forward Rudi Völler might find life hard. Lothar Matthaus was not yet doing, in midfield, what he would later, so commandingly, do for West Germany and Internazionale. There were the customary squabbles in training camp, ‘Toni’ Schumacher, the controversial goalkeeper, complaining when the younger Stein was preferred to him, and laming a colleague in training.
Brazil were favoured by the bookmakers, but so many of their star midfield players were injured that they were an enigma. Zico’s left knee, Falcao’s right knee, Cerezo’s left thigh, Socrates’ general condition left them a vulnerable side. Tele Santana had returned to manage them; and they too had had ructions in training camp.
When Renato Gaucho, the powerful, fast Flamengo right-winger, a known night-owl, had come back after curfew, Santana had thrown him off the squad. This so upset his friend and Flamengo team-mate Leandro, one of the country’s finest defenders, that when the team flew off from Rio to Mexico, he didn’t turn up.