I’ve seen very little of the World Cup. I was barely interested in 2018 and that level of curiosity in what is a bloated tournament, and about to become even bigger in 2026, is significantly smaller now. Apart from the fact we all know how corrupt FIFA and the bidding process is, and to be fair, if you do your homework, you’ll find Germany nabbing the 2006 World Cup was very suspect, so there’s form here long before Russia and Qatar got the tournaments, the quality of the football is just so poor now in comparison to even watching the best teams in the Premier League.
But it’s the Champions League now that really shows the World Cup in a poor light in terms of the quality of the football. A traditionalist, who liked the big jeopardy involved in the old European tournaments pre-1992 (Liverpool tumbled out several times in the last 8, or earlier, to central and eastern European opposition from ’73 – 84, despite winning 4 European Cups in that era), it took me a long time to buy into the Champions League. There’s a lot I don’t agree with about the competition, even now, like teams who fail to make it out of the group stage having the safety net of the Europa League, but the quality of the 2017-18 CL blew me away. I’d never seen such an outstanding tournament before, or since.
We probably haven’t had a great World Cup since ’82, which even then, having just expanded from 16 to 24 teams, had some major structural flaws. My favourite World Cup was ’90 just because I was a big England fan until the mid-90s and that was such a magical tournament for my generation, raised to another level by the musical excitement that was Madchester going on in the background. The fact is though, most neutral football fans regard that as the most negative World Cup ever. It was a cynical tournament, with the lowest number of goals scored and it led to the outlawing of the pass back to the goalkeeper (which I still miss – it turned ‘keepers into joke figures until Cruyff and later Guardiola tried to get their custodians playing out from the back) and tackling from behind which cut short Van Basten’s career and probably negatively impacted Maradona’s.
In ’90, there was the retrospective and heartbreaking memory of watching a massively gifted Yugoslavia team, which could’ve been one of the greatest world football has ever seen, being almost whitewashed from football history owing to the imminent apocalypse bubbling away in that part of the world. As a kid, I had no understanding of how what was going on behind the scenes would’ve played a massive part in them losing their first game 4-1 to West Germany. In the quarters, for their tie against Argentina, one of their best players couldn’t even play because his family back home had been threatened as the trouble in Yugoslavia deepened.
So, football-wise, it didn’t have a lot going for it, but it was probably the most exciting year of my life, ’89-90. I never came close to that level of happiness again, and England’s progress to the last four and that penalty shootout loss to West Germany sealed that tournament’s special place in my heart. I’d had a brilliant year at college in Vauxhall where I’d met my great friend The Space Daddy. I’d finally passed my GCSEs, while wearing dungarees (like Henry from ‘Neighbours’) and I found myself taught by the greatest teacher/lecturer I ever had, Geoff Thomas. He wanted us to first name him, which to me seemed just wrong, and he would always pull me up when I called him ‘Sir’. He was just brilliant for me, and after a few years exchanging old school letters, we unfortunately lost touch. I’d almost failed my GCSEs a third time and would’ve without him. My attendance had fallen off a cliff after my parents went through their divorce. I didn’t grasp this was affecting me, but Geoff had sensed something was going on at home and pulled me up about it. I denied anything was going on. I probably didn’t think home was playing a part but it speaks to his quality as a lecturer that he took note and cared enough to try and help. We never forget our greatest teachers/lecturers.
One last thing on Italia ’90. I remember watching the England v West Germany game with my late mum and I vividly recall thinking Lineker’s late equaliser, such a scrappy goal, was offside, and the elation I felt when I realised the goal stood. I remember it not like it was yesterday, but like it was now. It’s funny how certain moments in your life can be recalled so distinctly.
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