Thursday, March 17, 2022
Out of Nowhere, Part 4
In the final of Euro 1976, Czechoslovakia met the reigning champions West Germany.
Helmut Schoen's team, like the Czechs, had reached the final with some difficulty. In the Total Football spirit, the Germans had started their semi-final against Yugoslavia without a single recognized striker in the team; it was all about clever midfield interplay and taking turns to break forward. Alas, it didn't work too well. Yugoslavia scored two early goals, and Schoen must have been wondering if he could quickly put Gerd Muller on a plane heading south. Eventually, after the Germans pulled a lucky goal back, a striker did arrive, in the shape of young Dieter Muller of Köln. He equalised almost immediately, and then scored twice more in extra time. The lesson had been learnt.
Germany's new Muller, needless to say, started the final. The Czechs made one necessary change in midfield, where Jan Svehlik, yet another Slovan Bratislava man, replaced the suspended Jaroslav Pollak. If the sweeper Anton Ondrus had been the key man in the semi-final, the hero of the final was unquestionably the veteran keeper Ivo Viktor, who had a proverbial blinder.
As in the semi-final, Czechoslovakia were anything but overawed by their renowned opponents, and looked the better team from the outset. Within only eight minutes, they were ahead. An attack begun by Ondrus, in the spirit of his opposite number Franz Beckenbauer, ended in a shot by Svehlik which was pushed aside by Maier. Zdenek Nehoda, always there when it mattered, pulled it back across the goalmouth, and this time Svehlik fired the ball home.
And so began the assault on Viktor's goal. The Germans were stung into action, with the powerful Rainer Bonhof at the heart of things. But Viktor was equal to everything the Germans threw at him: a fine save from Bonhof, making a driving run through the middle, was followed by an even better save from Bernd Holzenbein, soon after Bonhof had sent a free kick just wide of goal.
The Germans were in control, and the Czechs' second goal came very much against the run of play. The left-back Koloman Gogh was fouled on a run upfield, and Marian Masny's free kick was headed out to Karol Dobias, fullback turned holding midfielder. He pivoted and sent a thumping left-footed volley past Maier, partially unsighted. The shocked Germans almost conceded another straight afterwards, when Masny slipped surprisingly easily away from his marker Berti Vogts and shot just wide.
A goal of high quality brought the Germans back into the game, and inevitably Bonhof was centrally involved. Herbert Wimmer, a hero of the previous Nations Cup final in 1972, went on a storming run down the right and found Bonhof, whose cross was volleyed home by an unmarked Muller. Bonhof produced the first half's final shot of note, a whack from distance which forced Viktor into another good save.
The Germans pressed steadily for much of the vibrant second half, but were unable to break through. Viktor was forced into action often, once making a superb double save from Uli Hoeness and Erich Beer, a recent addition to the team. With the momentum favouring his side, Franz Beckenbauer was now striding forward more frequently, and one of his typically fluent runs ended in a powerful shot which Viktor, who must have felt nine feet tall by this stage, saved with aplomb. Things were not entirely quiet at the other end, either; Sepp Maier was forced into a brilliant save from the midfielder Jozef Moder, and Nehoda very nearly sealed the win for his side with a header against the post late in the second half.
If the Czechs had been lucky with their second goal in the semi-final, karma caught up with them now. A free kick by Beckenbauer was headed over the byline, inamidst a crowd of Czechs, by the German fullback Bernard Dietz. The Italian referee Sergio Gonella, having an excellent game up to that point, gave a German corner. As Bonhof swung it over from the left, Holzenbein "led with his arm" to take Viktor out of the picture, and headed in. On the balance of play, perhaps the Germans deserved to be level, but this was a manifest injustice.
Extra time saw a number of half-chances for both sides; Antonin Panenka, soon to have his immortal moment, forced a save from Maier from a free kick, and Muller almost surprised Viktor right at the end with a scissor kick that flew past the far post.
Penalties it was to be, for the first time in a major international competition. Masny, Beckenbauer, Nehoda and the substitute Heinz Flohe all banged the ball home. Ondrus, capping a fine tournament performance, tucked the ball into the corner. Another German substitute, Hannes Bongartz, sent Viktor the wrong way cleverly. Ladislav Jurkemik, a Czech sub, nearly broke the back of the net. The penalty curse alighted on poor Uli Hoeness, who, Baggio-like, failed to get his head over the ball, and sent it flying over the bar. The stage was set for Panenka's party piece, which earned him a place in every footballer's vocabulary.
Czechoslovakia's victory was deserved. But did it have any broader significance?
I think it did. In many ways, it marked the beginning of the end of Total Football. Holland and West Germany had been the standard-bearers, at both club and international level, of the new trend. Now they had both been defeated, albeit narrowly, by a side which was rather more traditional in its tactical approach, however much flexibility they showed at times.
And in 1978, the World Cup would be won (quite fairly, despite all the long-standing rumours) by a side whose tactical approach was a throwback to the old days of twin wingers and a big, traditional No.9.
But that's another story.
