Saturday, July 03, 2021
1-0 to the Azzurri, Part 2
Once Italy had secured qualification from the group stage at the 1970 World Cup, their talented players began to get into their stride. Quite significantly, it was an early goal scored against them in their quarter-final against the Mexican hosts that really spurred them into action; they ran out 4-1 winners, with Luigi Riva this time getting on the scoresheet twice.
In the semi-final, there were hints of the grab-an-early-goal-and-hold-on philosophy which had informed their opener against Sweden once again: after Roberto Boninsegna's early goal, Italy did indeed cede most of the midfield to the West Germans. This time, against a side with far more bite than the Swedes in attack, it didn't quite work: in injury time, Karlheinz Schnellinger scored a potentially traumatising equaliser. It was a tribute to the Italians' improved morale and determination that they fought back in extra time to win.
In the final, of course, Italy were overrun by Pelé and company. Even then, however, after the cheap equaliser gifted to them by Clodoaldo late in the first half, they surely had the chance to turn the tide of the game. Had they shown a bit more boldness, and, significantly, a bit more fitness thereafter, the outcome could have been quite different.
Italy failed to make much of an impact on either the 1972 Nations Cup or the subsequent World Cup in West Germany. At the latter event, far too much faith was placed in heroes of the past such as Gianni Rivera, Tarcisio Burgnich and, yes, Riva, who had a wretched tournament. In their decisive game against Poland, the Italians were simply outplayed, and the difference in fitness and sharpness between the two sides was stark.
It was a much younger Italian side which travelled to Argentina in 1978, but before we come to the crucial Italian match of that tournament, the "semi-final" against the Dutch, it is worth taking a look at an instructive trial run for that game: the Nations Cup qualifying match between the same two sides back in late 1974.
Soapbox time, for a moment.
A lot of utter nonsense is written and spoken these days about the Dutch of 1974, and the European Cup-winning Ajax sides of the years just prior. We are still regaled with tales of stunning, technically brilliant football artistes playing with gay abandon, changing positions at will, and bringing a ray of sunshine into the grim post-1960s world of European football.
In truth, with the very important exception of Johan Cruyff, there was nothing technically exceptional about the Dutch. Nothing at all. What set Ajax and the Dutch national side apart from rivals of their era was their relentless pressing and commitment to attack, their speed and physical power, and their tactical discipline (yes, folks: discipline). Their use of the offside trap was revolutionary and executed superbly, and their use of the team press upon losing the ball was formidably effective.
An interesting case in point was Ajax's exciting quarter-final tie against Celtic in 1971: the Scottish side were in no way technically inferior (and in the elusive winger Jimmy Johnstone they had a player comparable to Cruyff in that respect, if not others), but they came up short - pun intended there - against the tall, powerful, Ajax men whose reserves of energy and incessant pressing meant that the Bhoys could never get properly into their rhythm.
Now, off the soapbox and on with the main story.
On that night in Rotterdam in November 1974, Italy again went into an early lead: a cross from Giancarlo Antognoni was met by a powerful header from Boninsegna, and the veteran keeper Jan Jongbloed, whose handling was never as good as his positioning, fumbled the ball over the line.
Once again, Italy quickly retreated into their shell. This time it was Boninsegna who was left alone up front, and the Dutch took over the midfield, with the experienced Wim van Hanegem directing the traffic. It was not a surprise when the Dutch equalised; Ruud Krol's cross from the left was met by the outstretched leg of Rob Rensenbrink, and it was 1-1.
Then something interesting, and perhaps surprising, happened.
The Dutch seemed to have realised that in the technical department, the Italians were probably their equals or even their betters. Certainly, in the early stages of the match, when the likes of Franco Causio - who will be an important figure in this tale - were given sufficient time on the ball, they showed themselves capable of posing considerable danger. Perhaps aware of the Italian tendency to "wake up" after conceding a goal, the men in orange decided to stop such a revival before it started.
In short, for the next twenty minutes, they fouled the living daylights out of the Italians. The Dutch, you say? The total football artists, the long-haired revolutionaries of the beautiful game? Yes. And they were largely given licence to do so by the weak Russian referee, Pavel Kazakov.
It was the Italians, too, who came closest to breaking the deadlock prior to the break. Following an incident in which van Hanegem was lucky to stay on the field after elbowing Francesco Rocca in the face, Boninsegna nearly scored a second with a powerful shot; Pietro Anastasi also had a chance towards the close.
After the break, it was a different game - a grim foreshadowing of the encounter at the World Cup four years later.
The Dutch completely dominated the second half. The whistle had barely been blown when Johan Neeskens had a shot saved by Dino Zoff, and Willy van der Kuylen hit the post a minute later. This set the tone for the rest of the half, and the Dutch this time were able to dominate without recourse to constant fouling. Ironically, when a second Dutch goal did arrive, it was probably offside, but it was surely only a matter of time. The third Dutch goal, ten minutes from the end, saw them at their very best: in a flowing move, Wim Suurbier crisply exchanged passes with Neeskens before cutting the ball back for Cruyff to beat Zoff from close range.
Two salient features about the Italian side emerged from the game. One was that in a situation where a sole striker is left to forage for scraps up front, a quicker, more flexible player like Boninsegna was actually much more effective than a traditional big front-man like Riva. Despite being well marked by the very able Wim Rijsbergen, Boninsegna had managed to make something out of nothing quite often. The other was that the Italian fitness levels were shown up in the second half. "The Italian team only had 45 minutes' worth of legs and heart," observed the shrewd Italian commentator Nando Martellini near the close.
One other little thing to notice from the game, which was to be an even more important factor in 1978: the Dutch, unlike the Swedes in 1970, posed plenty of danger when shooting from distance. During the game, Zoff had to make a couple of smart saves when Suurbier and Neeskens shot accurately from outside the area.
Continued in Part 3.
