Chasing my World Cup dream

 I just read an interesting note by Irish journalist and author Paul Howard: "You spend your life chasing the way the World Cup made you feel when you were 11". The title says it all, and as this next world cup is slowly creeping up I can completely identify.

I have some vague memories of 1982, when I was 7 years old and living in Argentina: supporting Italy in the final, Hungary winning 10-1 against a country named "El Salvador" (first time I heard about it, and later in fact becoming very important in my life), and most of all, Argentina and the unfulfilled expectations of Maradona.

But in 1986 I was 11 years old. With my parents we were coming from Argentina, and spent some months in Mexico just before the World Cup. I was gripped by the fever, also because it was Denmark's first World Cup. I watched most of the World Cup in Denmark, who played some of the best football Denmark has ever played in matches against Uruguay and West Germany, as well as the debacle against Spain, that was indeed very difficult for an 11-year old Denmark supporter. But I also remember so many magic matches: USSRs extraordinary thrashing of Hungary; Mexico's wave and Jorge Negrete's special goal against Bulgaria; Belgium's great but lucky side against USSR; France-Brazil, which to me at that time was the best match I had ever seen; and most of all I remember Argentina and Diego Maradona, bringing the trophy home to a country that I had recently left physically but not by heart.

It was magic indeed, and I have since been searching for that feeling. I have enjoyed and vividly remember every World Cup since: 1990 living in Spain but still bitter at Spain's victory against Denmark, and wholeheartedly supporting a boring Argentina; 1994, opening match Germany-Bolivia, on the very day that I got my "studenterhue" and being in Colombia when Pablo Escobar was shot; 1998, painting a kitchen with my best friends and enjoying every crazy match (1998 is the closest I have come to feeling like in 1986); 2002 while finishing my Masters' and early breakfast matches that have since been difficult to remember from the least memorable World Cup; 2006 in Ghana, loving the atmosphere of the Black Stars' first world cup and disappointed about the final; 2010, recently living in Venezuela and thinking back of my time in Africa (Ghana and Mozambique) and watching the final (and finally able to celebrate my dear Spain) with my best friends in France; 2014, when I really went hunting for the "feeling", and traveled to many countries to watch matches, starting in Liberia, and ending in Denmark, and accepting the nevertheless disappointing loss of Argentina, against a German side that I admired for the first time ever; 2018, when I went to Russia with the best friend and enjoyed the atmosphere that the tournament brings, but also saw more clearly FIFA's obvious destruction of the game; 2022, the winter World Cup where I remember my enormous happiness seeing Argentina finally win again with best friends after a Julefrokost.

A four-year diary of my life, but while I have enjoyed, nothing comes close to the footballing magic of 1986.

It is serendipitous that now, 40-years later, I am living in Mexico for the biggest World Cup in history... But I am also older, worn-out, and more cynical person than that happy and dreamy 11-year old in 1986... I have seen my favourite teams win and lose; ups and down in life, and will surely not be as emotional about winning or losing. 

Behind my cynicism about FIFA and the destruction of the game I learnt to love 40 years ago, I am perhaps hoping - maybe still searching for that football romantic in my soul, like the great Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano once said: "Yo no soy más que un mendigo de buen fútbol. Voy por el mundo, sombrero en mano, y en los estadios suplico una linda jugadita, por amor de Dios. Y cuando el buen fútbol ocurre, agradezco el milagro..." ("I am nothing more than a beggar for good football. I wander the world, hat in hand, and in stadiums I plead for a beautiful play, for God's sake. And when good football happens, I give thanks for the miracle").

That is why, that despite it all, I am going to two matches here in Mexico. Behind all of my anger about the greed and ugly nationalism that I feel the World Cup has become, I am still pleading for the magic of a beautiful play and to feel some of the passion and beauty that made me fall in love with football and life as an 11-year old in 1986.... 

The football Pope

When Jorge Bergoglio had just become Pope Francis I in 2013 I was at a diplomatic reception in Monrovia, Liberia, and came across a young Argentine priest who worked at the Holy See’s representation in Monrovia. He confirmed he knew the Pope, and we then proceeded to discuss football, focusing on the coming 2014 World Cup. Confessing my own support for Argentina, we were interrupted by a Frenchman who overheard our conversation: “Of course, France also has a great team that could win”.

“Excomulgated”. The Argentine priest replied in good humour. 

It was the same good-natured approach of his Argentine boss, who after having passed away, has been given many tributes by the football community. 

Because Pope Francis may have been the popular leader of the Catholic Church, one of the most important religions in the world, but he was certainly also a follower of the quasi-religion of football. It might have been obvious given that Pope Francis was born in Argentina, and grew up in a society where the religion of football means a lot in every layer of society. 

The Pope was a fan of the club from the neighbourhood of Almagro, in Buenos Aires, San Lorenzo, a club that has incidentally been founded by a Priest. When the club miraculously won the Copa Libertadores in 2014, a year after he had become Pope, the club went to the Vatican to give the Pope a copy of the trophy, in gratitude for the Pope’s near-divine support. 

And the Pople met many footballers who have also paid tribute to him, just as the fans of many teams, including those of Olympique Marseille: 

 

Ferenc Puskas and I

Since I am moving I have been packing, going through a lot of old documents, and came across a small football memory that involved none other than the legendary Ferenc Puskas, one of the best football players of all time; all-time topscorer of Europe and captain of the legendary Hungarian national team of the 1950s, that broke many records: the first team ever to defeat England at Wembley, they didn’t lose a game for three years, until the 1954 World Cup final in Switzerland, where they nevertheless ended up as the most scoring team per match of all time (ironically, they had defeated Germany 8-3 in the first round, but lost the legendary final 3-2 after being up 2-0!). 

Hungarian football has not been the same since 1956 (even though they have participated in many tournaments, but without much distinction) when the legendary team fell apart after the Hungarian uprising against the USSR. Many of the players were dispersed all over Europe – many went to Spain, for instance Sandor Koscic (the topscorer of the 1954 World Cup), but also Ferenc Puskas, who went to become a player of one of the most legendary teams of all time: Real Madrid. This was the real “galactico” Real Madrid, with some of the best players of all time: Alfredo Di Stefano, Raymond Kopa, Francisco Gento, José Santamaría… Still, Puskas stood out: four pichichis and winning five European Championships. 

In 1993 I went to watch Hungary play against Denmark in a friendly match in Parken in Copenhagen. Denmark won 3-1 (and Michael Laudrup scored after his recent return to the national team), but that was not the special thing about the match. I was with some friends from the boarding school in Birkerød, which I attended back then. Some ten meters behind me I saw a large fat man with sleazy combed back hair, and immediately I recognized him: this was Ferenc Puskas, and I told one of my friends who knew who I was referring to: this was one of the most legendary players of all time (Pelé, Maradona, Cruyff, Beckenbauer, Puskas)! We wanted an autograph from this legend, and approached the old large man. “Puskas!”, and waved at him. He waved back, casually and signalling that he was not going to sign any autograph, but I thought I sensed a certain pride that he had been recognized by two Danish teenagers. We kept waving,: “Autograph, Puskas!”, but he ignored us, until I then said in Spanish: “Vamos, para un hincha del Madrid!” (I am not proud that I pretended to be a fan of Real Madrid…), which at least made him turn towards me: “Yo estoy aquí como Húngaro!”, he said and I didn’t get an autograph. 

Seems Mr. Puskas, like me, had different identities for different contexts: One day Hungarian, other days Spanish, other days Madrid. 

Mr. Puskas passed away in 2006, was given a state funeral in Hungary, and well, I could remember my little encounter with a legend.

Remembering Freddy Rincon

Just about week ago I heard that the ex-striker from Colombia and Real Madrid had been in a car accident, and was in criticial condition. Just a few days later, having beers with a Venezuelan friend in Miami, he told me that Rincón had passed away at 55. 

A tall and quick striker, he had a long illustrious career that brought him, amongst others, to Palmeiras, Napoli and Real Madrid. But as I spoke with my friend I remembered Freddy Rincon for one very special moment: in 1990 I was a young teenager, sitting in an apartment in southern Spain, watching the World Cup match between West Germany and Colombia. It was the last group match, and the Germans were all but qualified while Colombia could not lose. I supported Colombia wholeheartedly as they attacked and attacked, but could not score. Instead, Germany went ahead, completely undeserved (but specially back then it was considered so “German”). In the last minute Freddy Rincón received the ball from “El Pibe” Valderrama and scored the equalizer that put Colombia through.

When that ball went in I jumped and screamed so much that neighbours and family worried that something had happened, but it was just one of those moments of absolute football joy that I remember having, and a treasured memory.

Thank you Freddy Rincón. RIP.

10 + more footballers that have made a lasting impression

Someone recently nominated me on Facebook to post pictures of ten footballers that have made an impression on me. It was not easy, and got me thinking about the many footballers that I admire and respect. Although I posted ten, there are so many more, so, here is an expanded list of fantastic footballers:

• Diego Maradona: for me he remains the best there ever was; he was largely the reason I fell in love with the game. I moved from Argentina to Mexico in 1986, and the 1986 World Cup was thus very special for me, and he shone for the team that I supported.
• Michael Laudrup: The greatest footballer Denmark has ever produced was a young man during the World Cup in 1986 when I also became a fan of him. I moved to Spain some years later, when he was playing in FC Barcelona, and being from Denmark immediately led to comparisons to Laudrup, who was deeply admired and respected. Besides his qualities, he was also considered a gentleman as a player, although he seemed out of touch, for instance when he changed to Real Madrid
• Ronaldinho: Perhaps the best footballer I have seen play; I saw him in Barcelona against Zaragoza in 2006, in a match where he scored two goals. He was splendid in everything he did and was hugely entertaining to watch in any team that he played.
• George Weah: In the 1990s I had barely heard about Liberia. And suddenly there was this fantastic footballer from Liberia scoring amazing goals in Serie A for AC Milan! I particularly remember a goal he scored against Verona. Many years later I moved to Liberia, and the first thing I thought about was not its awful civil war, but as the country that created such a fantastic player!
• Ruud Gullit: I first became a fan of Gullit during Euro 88, when he led the Netherlands to a fantastic triumph. He then moved to AC Milan which became a fantastic winning side with him, alongside players such as Rijkaard, Van Basten, Baresi. That Milan side was for me one of the most memorable teams I have watched, and Gullit, with his characteristic dreadlocks, the best.
• Jorge Valdano: Jorge Valdano was one of the players alongside Maradona in the 1986 World Cup triumph, and I also became a fan of him, despite him playing in Real Madrid (I am not a fan). But besides his skills, Valdano is one of the greatest thinkers about football in the world.
• Kim Vilfort: In 1989 I watched the Danish Cup final between Ikast and Brondby. I supported Ikast, but as the team ceased to exist and I moved, Brondby became my team. And Kim Vilfort was one of the pillars of the team. He was not brilliant, and a bit slow, but he was humble and hard working, the two most important qualities. In 1992, on the Danish national team, he scored the second goal in the legendary Euro victory against Germany, something I will always be fond of remembering!
• Marta: Until Marta came along I was not a fan of women's football. I found that they lacked skills and were too focused on the physical part of the game. But Marta changed that, bringing Brazilian skills and flair into the game. She was a spectacular player with skills far above most men, and changed women's football, despite all the discrimination she has had to endure from a male chauvinistic sport.
• Didier Drogba: Since I first heard about Drogba, while he was playing in Marseille, I became interested in following his career, which became glorious, both at his time in Chelsea and also with the Ivorian national team. The reason to support either side was basically Drogba, who besides his goalscoring abilities also was a man committed to improving things in his country.
• Peter Schmeichel: In my view the greatest goalkeeper there ever was, but of course, I am also biased, as he started in Brondby and was so important in Denmark's 1992 Euro triumph! 
• Carles Puyol: Puyol captained two of the best sides in history; Spain's 2010 World Cup winners and FC Barcelona's Champions' League and La Liga winners. And in both teams he was the solid and talented defender that provided the space and confidence for the teams to be victorious. He is likely one of the best defenders of all time. 
• Wayne Rooney: He was not the best player ever and he played for England and Manchester United (two teams I do not support), but I realized that I had closely followed his career, and had few bad things to say about him. 
• Zinedine Zidane: Although he played for Real Madrid I am only full of admiration for Zidane.  I got to know him from his time in Juventus, but he went into history when he led an incredible French team to the World Cup title in 1998. I cannot even blame him for his famous headbutt in the 2006 World Cup final! And his perfect 2002 Champions' League final goal against Bayer Leverkusen is legendary!
• Gaizka Mendieta: In 2001 I went to study in Castellon. That year I became fan of Valencia, who made it to the Champions League final as I was among the spectators cheering, and they were led by a splendid Gaizka Mendieta, who happened to be from Castellon!
• Carlos Valderrama: The first time I cheered like crazy for Colombia was in 1990 when Colombia played West Germany, and Valderrama leading the Colombian midfield with his characteristic hairstyle. He had a glorious career with a Colombian side that sadly underperformed for years, but also had a good career in Europe.
• Ronaldo: I am talking about Ronaldo Nazario, the prolific Brazilian goalscorer who in the 1990s and 2000s scored goal after goal for Barcelona, Inter Milan and Real Madrid. I remember watching him so often on TV, scoring again and again, that it seems that period of my life was defined by his goals! While his 1998 World Cup was a memorable disappointment he belongs in the history book with Brazil's 2002 World Cup victory, when he also became the most scoring player of all time!
• Miroslav Klose: Not the most memorable striker, but after the 2014 World Cup he became the most scoring player of all time in a World Cup. But more than this, he was always a gentleman, one of the most fair players at a time when one saw this less and less.
• Eric Cantona: I admired him because he was an outstanding individualist in a team sport. A personality like his can be problematic in a team, but people like him are necessary for football.
• Zlatan Ibrahimovic: Basically for the same reason I admire Eric Cantona, I admire Zlatan Ibrahimovic. I watched him play for Sweden against England in Euro 2012, and although Sweden lost, Zlatan was the best of the match.
• Xavi: The midfield general of FC Barcelona and for Spain's World Cup winner was the brain behind both winning teams. In my view he should have been the FIFA World Player of the year at least once during those years!
• Iker Casillas: Any brilliant team has a great goalkeeper and so did Spain in 2010. Iker Casillas was a gentleman and a fair player who was marginalised from the club he gave it all for, Real Madrid. I feel he is one of the most underrated goalkeepers in history.
• Nadia Nayim: When Denmark did well in women's football at the 2017 Euros, Nadia Nayim was an outstanding player, but also an admirable person who has excelled in and outside the pitch despite the odds of her being a woman and a refugee.

The list is getting long, and there are in fact more footballers to whom my little homage here is a small gratitude to the joy they have given me.

Old fart's memories

When you can remember something that happened 25 years ago you qualify as an old fart.
I am an old fart now, and I will never forget exactly 25 years ago when Denmark won Euro 1992, in the final against the world champions of Germany.
Every Dane who live then remembers it in his/her own special way that only someone who lived back then will be able to relate to. I was in between countries, a cocky teenager, and in so many ways I remember this as a special year, and this as a special day. Every player from that day has a special place in my memories, and the entire match is something burned into my memory: who I was with and where I watched it and the entire celebration after.
I guess it is a compliment to what football can do; to what football can mean; to what football does; that 25 years after, an old fart like me, having traveled the world, still remember this match as so really special!
Hutelitut!

Mexico 1986 memories

In 1986, 30 years ago, I spent a couple of months in Mexico. It was just up to the 1986 World Cup, and I had come from Argentina, and was going to Denmark, and this became, in my subjective view, the best World Cup ever!
So it was interesting when recently I came over some old t-shirts and a cap purchased right before the World Cup:

 

One of the t-shirt had the teams of group E:

 

A memorable group won by Denmark (it was their first World Cup) and followed by the later finalists of West Germany. Who would have thought this group was going over to history?

The t-shirts are old and too small for me today, but certainly remain an old memorabilia worth keeping for a football World Cup history fan!

Euro memories

The Euro 2016 is soon to start in France. I must admit that I have a hard time getting excited about a tournament that comes in the background of political crisis in Europe and all the nerves it implies.
In football terms, the expansion of the tournament into 24 teams has in my view watered down the quality and excitement of the tournament; there are simply too many mediocre teams and too many matches before the excitement starts to get there in the quarterfinals. I predict that, as in the World Cup, the first round will be full of defensive careful teams who are more afraid to lose than wanting to take the risk of winning.
That said, in my continuing attempts at getting excited about the tournament I have reflected of some of the good memories of this tournament, based on the top 10 matches that have stuck to my memories. It is purely a subjective list, based not on the matches themselves, but on the circumstances under which I watched them (friends, place, time...);

10. Germany-Turkey 2008: This was the early build-up of a Germany that would take the world with storm and a Turkey side that took Europe with charm. This semifinal, won by Germany 3-2, I watched on a boat between Denmark and Iceland, with friends in a ship-bar where one could not help by get excited about what was a fantastic match.
9. Netherlands-USSR 1988: My first Euro memories are from the 1988 tournament. The 1988 final was an exhibition of a historic Dutch side with the fantastic Marco Van Basten scoring a fantastic winner.
8. Denmark-Sweden 2004: I watched this match full of dilemmas in a bar in Copenhagen. The problem was that 2-2 would put both teams through instead of one of the least charming Italy sides in history. And this was also how it ended after Denmark had tried to defeat their arch-rivals. So it was in many ways a great but bitter-sweet tie. On top of this I should mention that I started this blog right after the Italy-Denmark match in this tournament with the most boring post ever.
7. Spain-Yugoslavia 2000: I was in Spain for this match that Spain won 4-3. I watched it with a bunch of Spanish friends and one Yugoslav friend, and the taunting and good atmosphere of a fantastic and legendary match makes the day and the match specially memorable.
6. England-Germany 1996: In 1996 I was biking around the Danish island of Bornholm with two friends from High School. We watched the match in a bar in a small town. The bar was full of Germans, but all Danes in the bar supported England. The Germans in the end won on penalties to the delight of the Germans and disappointment of the Danes (who were not very gracious losers).
5. Spain-Germany 2008: This was the start of Spanish World football dominance, being their first victory since their meager 1964 Euro win, and I watched the match in a restaurant called "Matstofan" in Borgarness in Iceland, during a great road-boat-trip of the northern Atlantic, where football was constantly in the background (see 10 above).
4. Denmark-Netherlands 1992: I was actually in a hotel in Sweden, alongside my uncle and cousin, for this match. I had just returned from one year in the USA, where it had been difficult to follow football, and could not believe Denmark had made it to the semifinals. In the end Denmark won an incredibly dramatic match against the defending champions, and we were delighted.
3. Sweden-England 2012: I was there, in the beautiful Stadium in Kiev, for a great match won 3-2 by England. The Euro 2012 is the first and only time I have traveled to a tournament, alongside a great friend, and it was great.
2. Portugal-Denmark 2012: This match was won 3-2 by Portugal, and I was also there at the stadium in Lviv. Of course it was a bit disappointing to lose, but this was only secondary to the fun day in the beautiful and welcoming city of Lviv alongside many fans, and even ending the day in a karaoke bar after the match, singing alongside drunken Portuguese fans.
1. Denmark-Germany 1992: Every Dane alive in 1992 remembers what they were doing when Denmark won the European Championship. This was one of the miracles in footballing history. I had just returned from one year in the US, and was one week in Denmark before joining my parents in Spain. By the time I returned to Spain, Denmark were European champions, and I had watched the semifinal in Sweden (see 4 above) and I was in the small town of Ikast for the final. Ikast is not a city that is memorable for anything, but that day was an incredible party that I will never forget (just like everywhere in Denmark).