The Football Tragic

The final of the Mundialito tournament took place at the Centenario stadium on January 10, 1981, before over 70,000 spectators. After his authoritative handling of the Brazil v. Argentina game, the Austrian Erich Linemayr was the obvious choice to referee the final, and he once again did a firm and impartial job.

Uruguay made one enforced change, the suspended José Moreira being replaced by Victor Diogo at right-back. Brazil fielded the same side as against West Germany, despite their laboured first-half performance in that encounter. The hosts had enjoyed a week's rest since their previous game, while Brazil were playing their third match in six days. 

The Uruguayans made a nervous start, and Brazil quickly assumed the initiative. Junior, who had scored with a majestic free kick against the Germans, almost repeated the feat in the third minute, but Rodolfo Rodriguez made a fine fingertip save. Brazil enjoyed the majority of the possession, but with Socrates again looking ill at ease as a centre-forward, penetration was hard to come by. 

Although the fouling was not extreme, there were two unpleasant incidents. Diogo was lucky to receive only a yellow card for a dreadful foul on the resourceful Zé Sergio, and at the other end Luizinho might also have been sent off for a dangerous challenge on Ruben Paz; the Brazilian defender, too, escaped with a caution. 

Toninho Cerezo, having a mixed tournament, missed a golden chance to open the scoring on the half-hour when Zé Sergio set him up cleverly on the edge of the box. Paulo Isidoro too had a chance on 36 minutes; Uruguay, despite the vocal encouragement of 70,000 fans, were finding it very hard to get into the game.

Paz at least forced Joao Leite into a save just before the whistle, with a free kick from 25 yards. Brazil's own free kick specialist, Junior, took one in a very promising position on the left just after the restart, but some sly encroachment by the Uruguay wall - unpunished, this time, by Linemayr - rendered it ineffective.

Although the fluffy-haired left-back Daniel Martinez also had a chance for Uruguay, it was still a surprise when they opened the scoring. Fittingly, the goal again had its origin in the combination between Paz and Venancio Ramos, the hosts' two most impressive players throughout the event. Ramos set Paz free on the right, with the Brazilian defence out of shape; Paz's shot was blocked, and the ball rebounded to the talisman Waldemar Victorino, who touched the ball aside for the teenage Jorge Barrios, on as a substitute, to score.

Once again, upon conceding a goal, Tele Santana opted to bring on Serginho for Tita. And once again, Brazil began to look sharper, with Socrates able to scheme from behind the lines instead of playing with his back to goal. Sure enough, just after the hour, the doctor went on a storming run into the box from deep, and was brought down for a penalty. Socrates took it himself, calmly burying it in the right-hand corner. 1-1, and the momentum was now with Brazil.

Chances now came for both sides. Junior, after a slick one-two with Cerezo, missed a good opportunity, while Ramos forced another save from Joao Leite, again from a free kick. The young winger was becoming more prominent, and the decisive goal owed a great deal to his efforts. Holding off two Brazilian defenders by the right touchline and eventually drawing a foul, he sent the resulting free kick tantalizingly between Joao Leite and his defensive line. Just when it seemed that the ball might evade everyone in the six-yard box, who should pop up but the man with the lucky star following him everywhere. Victorino it was, ducking in behind Oscar and stooping to head the ball home for his third goal in as many games.

The remainder of the match petered away inamongst the smoke bombs and the flag-waving. Even a shocking foul by a frustrated Isidoro on Martinez couldn't spoil the party, and Uruguay could proclaim themselves, a tad grandiloquently, the champion of the champions. More tellingly, they had repeated the triumph of 1930.

Forty-odd years later, it is still hard to assess the importance of the Mundialito. A trashy little ersatz mid-season tournament, or an apt celebration featuring some of the finest teams in the world? I incline towards the latter interpretation, with some reservations. Certainly, I think many of the sides involved, Brazil especially, took some lessons from the event. And for the Uruguayans, of course, it still remains a treasured memory. As Shane Davis has pointed out, their record in home competition over the course of football history has been exceptional.

Victory in the tournament did not, it must be said, have much of a lasting effect on Uruguayan football. In the qualifying series for the 1982 World Cup, they were shocked at home by an ageing Peru, and missed out. They did win the 1983 Copa America, but the side that did so featured only a few players from the team that had tasted success at the Mundialito. And when Uruguay returned to the World Cup in 1986, they put in a disappointing performance, ultimately losing out to the eventual champions in the second round. It should be noted, however, that in that game, the arrival of Ruben Paz on the hour transformed the side, who caused the Argentinians plenty of problems in the final minutes. Perhaps the midfield hero of the Mundialito should have been on from the beginning.

But in many ways, the key figure of the fifty-year anniversary tournament was its top scorer. An uncomplicated, journeyman centre-forward who had his moment in the sun at exactly the right time. Waldemar Victorino is hardly a household name anywhere other than Montevideo today. But he had his hour, and it was a glorious one.

# posted by Mike Salter @ 9:39 AM 1 comments

Brazil beating West Germany 4-1 at the height of the Tele Santana era might conjure up images of a superb, timeless display of jogo bonito. In reality, things were a bit more complicated...and interesting.

One of the abiding mysteries of the 1982 World Cup in general, and of Brazil's performances in particular, is why Santana persisted with the burly but maladroit Serginho up front, when so many of the stylish midfield build-ups came to nothing thanks to the big centre-forward's clumsy first touches. I think the Seleçao's final two games at the Mundialito, and their encounter with the Germans in particular, go some way to explaining why Santana showed such faith in Serginho.

The Germans, of course, had nothing to play for. Furthermore, their powerful striker Horst Hrubesch was ruled out of the game with angina pain. His place was taken by the unassuming Borussia Dortmund midfielder Mirko Votava, which meant that Karlheinz Rummenigge was given a thankless lone striker role. The Brazilians, by contrast, could reach the final if they won by two or more goals. Once again, however, they played Socrates at the point of the attack - and it was clear that the Corinthians general was not happy in the role.

The winger Paulo Isidoro, who had caused plenty of problems for the Argentinians, was assigned to the capable care of Hans-Peter Briegel, Diego Maradona's nemesis. And with Socrates unable to help out Toninho Cerezo in midfield, the Brazilians found fluency hard to come by in the opening stages. In fact, it was the Germans who secured the first real chance, with Rummenigge - often surrounded by as many as three Brazilian defenders - forcing a save from Joao Leite in Brazil's goal after 20 minutes.

Isidoro skied a shot from a careless back-header from Felix Magath, and Socrates and Junior had successive shots blocked after a clever dummy by Batista. At the other end, Manfried Kaltz, who would later go off injured, and Rummenigge failed to make the most of half-chances. It was 0-0 at the break, and the football had been uninspiring. Despite the Germans' occasional, and understandable, slackness in defence and midfield, Brazil had been unable to take advantage.

Brazil gradually upped the tempo in the second half, but Toni Schumacher saved well from Cerezo just after the restart, and Socrates missed another opportunity soon afterwards. On 54 minutes, somewhat against the run of play, Germany went ahead. Rummenigge, for once finding space on the right, crossed to Hansi Muller, who pulled the ball back for Klaus Allofs to apply a close-range finish.

Then Santana made an important decision: he took off the largely ineffective Tita and brought on Serginho, and Socrates withdrew into his more familiar midfield role.

Immediately Brazil looked a more balanced side, and they equalized in short order, Junior scoring with a marvellous free kick from 20 yards. From that point on, with the Germans no longer looking interested, Brazil had the run of the field. A second arrived when Cerezo, criminally unmarked, strolled into the area and connected with Edevaldo's right-wing cross.

The crucial third goal came thirteen minutes from the close. Socrates, running from deep, was played through on goal; riding a feeble tackle from Bernard Dietz, he prodded the ball past an advancing Schumacher for Serginho to slot the ball into an empty net. The big Sao Paulo striker had done nothing outstanding in his time on the field: he had merely allowed others to be more effective elsewhere.

There was time for another goal, and this time Serginho played provider, sliding a clever reverse pass into the path of Zé Sergio, who rode Schumacher's attempted challenge and scored from a tight angle. 

Brazil, then, had scored a handful of goals against an uncommitted team to reach a final on goal difference ahead of Argentina. There would have been many present who would have appreciated the irony, after the controversy of Rosario in 1978.

Pound for pound, Brazil should have been the favourites going into the final. But they could count on a raucous Montevideo crowd, and a Uruguay team now brimming with confidence.

Stay tuned for Part 5.

# posted by Mike Salter @ 4:20 PM 3 comments

If Uruguay's first match at the Mundialito was relatively peaceful, their second, against Italy, was full of drama. Some of this was probably due to the febrile atmosphere created by the Montevideo crowd; fairly subdued during the match against the Dutch, they now filled the air with constant chants and smoke bombs. The weak refereeing of the Spaniard Emilio Guruceta did not help either, although it must be added that he was indulgent to both sides, not just the Uruguayans.

In the first half, the game looked like being a repeat of the two sides' encounter at the 1970 World Cup: a tight, tense 0-0 draw in which both teams showed excessive respect to the other. This time, Ruben Paz and Venancio Ramos were unable to impose themselves as they had against Holland; the former was being closely watched by the Italians' midfield policeman Marco Tardelli, and Antonio Cabrini was dealing similarly efficiently with Ramos on the Uruguayan right flank.

Most of the enterprise in the first half came from the Roma winger Bruno Conti, a recent addition to the national team. Italy created what few chances arrived in the first period, but the two strikers, Francisco Graziani and the tall Alessandro Altobelli, failed to make the most of them. The absent Paolo Rossi would probably have snapped them up.

The second half saw the game open up, and the fouling become more aggressive. Giancarlo Antognoni went close for Italy with a free kick soon after the restart, but the Uruguayans were starting to look threatening. Soon after the hour, Paz for once got the better of Tardelli and rushed into the box, but made a mess of his eventual shot. A few minutes later Uruguay did score: the Italian keeper Ivano Bordon saved a close-range shot from Paz, but in the follow-up play the striker Waldemar Victorino was upended by Antognoni in the box, and a penalty was given. "Just as we expected," was the cynical comment from the Italian commentator Nando Martellini, but in truth the Italians could have few complaints; it was certainly a foul.

The veteran Julio Morales converted the penalty without ado, and the game quickly became more violent. On 70 minutes, a series of fouls by the touchline was followed by a brief all-in brawl, after which Cabrini and the Uruguayan right-back José Moreira were both sent off. Uruguay's accomplished keeper, Rodolfo Rodriguez, came into his own in the final stages, saving well from Graziani and Antognoni. Nine minutes from the end, Uruguay scored a second when Ramos crossed from the right, and Victorino, continuing his inspired run of form, chested the ball down before firing adroitly past Bordon.

In the final minutes, a wild, frustrated foul by Tardelli on Paz produced a third red card, and the game limped to the finish line. "If Uruguay's intention is to win the trophy by any means, they could have told us and saved us the journey," complained Italy's manager, Enzo Bearzot. But apart from the intimidation of the crowd, there was little reason for Italy to feel aggrieved.

The Italy v. Netherlands match thus became an irrelevance, and the game was notable only for the debut of a tough young Roma midfielder of whom we would hear a great deal in years to come: Carlo Ancelotti. It was, in fact, the future dean of European managers who scored Italy's goal, a smartly-taken right footed shot on seven minutes. Eight minutes later, the Dutch equalized through their captain Jan Peters, beating Bordon from distance in the best traditions of Aarie Haan.

A day after Uruguay's victory over Italy, Brazil and Argentina produced the finest game of the competition. Forewarned by both the events of the previous day and the two rivals' spiteful encounter at the 1978 World Cup, the Austrian referee Erich Linemayr took charge of the game impressively from the outset, making it clear that rough play would not be tolerated. The result was a relatively well-mannered game in which both sides were prepared to let the other play.

Maradona, this time, was marked very loosely, if at all; Brazil did not possess a Briegel in their ranks. Instead, Tele Santana's side produced some of the fluent football they were to show in Spain, although there was a certain lack of bite in the front third. Socrates, wearing the No.9 shirt, was playing almost as a centre-forward, alternating with the young Renato. 

On the half-hour mark, shortly after Ramon Diaz had forced a good save from the Brazilian keeper Carlos, Maradona scored an excellent goal. Hurdling Batista in midfield, he ran on into the box, cut inside a static Oscar easily and beat Carlos at his near post. 

There were half-chances for Renato and Toninho Cerezo before the break, and Maradona might have scored another when Osvaldo Ardiles cleverly played him through, but he was called back for offside - a marginal decision.

Brazil were given fresh impetus in the second half with the arrival of the winger Paulo Isidoro. Only two minutes after the break, Isidoro forced a good save from Ubaldo Fillol, and the ball broke to the right-back Edevaldo, who sent a thundering cross-shot past the Argentina keeper. 1-1.

There were plenty of chances in a vibrant final half-hour. Cerezo, played through superbly by the other winger, Zé Sergio, had his shot smothered by Fillol. Brazil might have had a penalty soon after when Isidoro, a constant menace to the Argentinian defence, had his shirt slyly pulled by Americo Gallego. At the other end, Argentina's own substitute, José Valencia, hit the base of the post, and his collision with Carlos forced the latter to withdraw injured, giving way to the substitute keeper Joao Leite. Just before the final whistle, the largely anonymous midfielder Tita slipped unnoticed through the midfield and was left one-on-one with Fillol, but the keeper again rushed off his line just in time to smother the shot.

It had been a pleasing display from two excellent sides, and a draw was a fair result. Brazil, then, had to beat the Germans by a decent margin to reach the final ahead of Argentina on goal difference - a situation which must have conjured up memories of 1978, when the roles were reversed.

Stay tuned for Part 4.

# posted by Mike Salter @ 5:38 PM 2 comments

The two three-team groups for the Mundialito were: Uruguay, Italy and the Netherlands (Group A) and Brazil, Argentina and West Germany (Group B). The group winners would contest the final. No third-place game; time, in the middle of the European club calendar, was at a premium.

The hosts' preparation for the tournament had been intense. Taking a leaf out of the Argentinians' book once again, the Uruguay squad had been in preparation for two months, under the tutelage of Roque Maspoli, the goalkeeper of the Celeste side which had shocked hosts Brazil to win the World Cup in 1950.

Against a jet-lagged and second-rate Holland, Uruguay had a comfortable start. The teams had met at the 1974 World Cup, when Johan Cruyff's Oranje had looked imperious in a 2-0 win over Uruguay's creaking side. This time, the result would be reversed, and it would be the Dutch who looked listless and uninspired against Maspoli's young team.

Although the Uruguay eleven did feature a survivor of the 1970 World Cup in the left-winger Julio Morales, the majority of the team had yet to reach their 23rd birthday. It was two of the 21-year-olds who particularly caught the eye in the tournament opener: the Penarol playmaker Ruben Paz, adroit, skilful and energetic, and his clubmate Venancio Ramos, a fast, deft right-winger. 

These two dominated the play from the start, and were both involved in the opening goal just after half an hour. Paz, who had already hit the post, played in the veteran Morales on the left, whose cutback was smartly side-footed past two lunging Dutch defenders by Ramos. 

The Dutch were stung into action, driven on by the sole survivors of the great team of the 1970s, the muscular van de Kerkhof twins. They did fashion a good chance a few minutes from the break, when the Uruguay keeper Rodolfo Rodriguez had to dive at the feet of the Dutch captain Jan Peters. But just before the half-time whistle, Uruguay went further ahead when Morales' left-wing corner was flicked on at the near post by Paz, and the striker Waldemar Victorino, Nacional's hero in the recent Copa Libertadores, dived full-length to head the ball in, off the far post.

Paz and Ramos continued to rule the field in the second half, combining to create a good chance on 55 minutes which was saved well by the veteran Dutch keeper, Pim Doesburg. Peters, Holland's best player throughout the event, almost made the score respectable with a cross-shot which flew just wide, and Uruguay might have added another when Paz played the substitute Ernesto Vargas in on the right 12 minutes from the end; again, Doesburg managed a good save. Uruguay had gotten off to a winning start without unduly exerting themselves.

Two days later, on the first day of 1981, one of the showpieces of the tournament took place: the encounter between the world champions and the newly-crowned European champions. The last competitive encounter between Argentina and West Germany had been at the 1966 World Cup: a dour, spiteful game in which Argentina dealt resourcefully with the Germans' blunt attack after Jose Albrecht was sent off. 

As in the tournament's first game, the roles were now somewhat reversed. Diego Maradona's reputation had preceded him, and the German manager Jupp Derwall had just the man to undertake the task of close-marking football's new superstar.

Hans-Peter Briegel had been an athlete of no mean ability before turning to football, and opponents found him a daunting prospect throughout his career. Fast, resilient and built like the proverbial tank - his nickname was Die Walz, "the steamroller" - he had cemented his place in the national side during their successful Nations Cup campaign. Now, his job was to keep the extraordinarily skilful and elusive Maradona quiet, and he did it with aplomb.

It was still the era of man-marking, and the Germans had their designated watchers elsewhere: the young Karlheinz Foerster looked after Ramon Diaz, while the 1978 hero Mario Kempes was in the capable hands of Manfried Kaltz. Perhaps with Franz Beckenbauer in mind, Derwall had assigned the sweeper role to a converted midfielder in Rainer Bonhof, by now the team's senior figure. (In 1982, it would be another former midfielder, Uli Stielike, who would play as libero).

The pattern of the game was quickly established: Argentina making the running, the Germans playing on the counter. Although Diaz created an early chance, by the half-hour it was becoming clear that Argentina were running out of steam and ideas, frustrated by the diligent marking of the Germans. Briegel was dominating Maradona, and Kempes, who had been struggling for form and fitness at Valencia, was barely sighted. Karlheinz Rummenigge missed a good chance on the half-hour, but just before half-time the Germans took a deserved lead, when Horst Hrubesch headed home Hansi Muller's left-wing corner.

Kempes was replaced by José Valencia, but the Germans still looked well in control after the break. A poor first touch robbed Hrubesch of another good chance just after the teams re-emerged, and the big striker forced Ubaldo Fillol into action with a thumping free kick later in the half. Things were not entirely quiet at the other end: Daniel Passarella was cleverly sneaking up from the back as he often had in 1978, once receiving the ball in the box and forcing a good save from Toni Schumacher. But as the half wore on, the fight seemed to be going out of Argentina, and the only half-chances on offer were German ones.

But there was to be a twist in this tale. 

With six minutes remaining, Argentina won a corner on the right. Diaz took it, and Passarella met it with a gentle header from twelve yards. It should have posed no danger at all, but somehow Schumacher and Kaltz got into a nightmarish tangle on the goal-line, and the Hamburg fullback prodded the ball into his own net.

It was a horrible goal to concede, and just four minutes later the shell-shocked Germans let in another. Valencia played Diaz through on the right, and the young striker powered a shot past the advancing Schumacher. Against all logic, Argentina had won.

The tournament story continues in Part 3.

# posted by Mike Salter @ 9:47 PM 2 comments

Any number of confected tournaments have formed part of the football calendar over the years; in recent times, the Confederations Cup and the Club World Cup come to mind. Generally, these ersatz events feature only two teams of substance (usually intended to meet in the final) and a number of, well, tourists.

But there was a tournament over 40 years ago, a one-off addition to the calendar, in which the logistically impossible was achieved: in the middle of a crowded modern European club season, the organizers managed to entice many of the world's top international teams, at full strength. The tournament only lasted a couple of weeks, and is largely forgotten today. Yet it featured such names as Maradona, Rummenigge, Socrates, Tardelli, Cerezo, Schumacher, Ardiles, and many more.

This was the Copa de Oro, the Gold Cup of Champions, better known at the time (and subsequently) as the Mundialito - the Little World Cup.

The idea was simple. It was fifty years since the first World Cup had been held in Uruguay. Officials in that immensely proud football nation decided to mark the occasion by inviting all the national teams which had since won the World Cup to face off in a six-team event, to be held at that same legendary Estadio Centenario in Montevideo which had played host to the competitors in 1930.

FIFA had given their blessing (although it was never entirely clear whether it hence became an official FIFA event). Hefty financial incentives were offered to ensure that the Europeans, in particular, would take the event seriously. Due to their lack of a winter break, England's FA declared their national team unable to compete adequately, and so the finalists at the last two World Cups, the Netherlands, were invited instead. Sadly, the Dutch had passed their peak, and almost none of the recognized stars of the 70s made the trip to Uruguay.

All the other former champions, however, were at virtually full strength. Brazil, under the experienced coach Tele Santana, were gradually evolving into the elegant attacking team which would win plenty of hearts at the 1982 World Cup, despite their dramatic early exit. Although the prized attacking midfielder Zico was ruled out with an injury, such 1982 stars as the Corinthians maestro Dr. Socrates, the midfield schemer Toninho Cerezo, and the fearsome attacking left-back Junior would all be present.

Argentina, the world champions, had reinforced their 1978 side with two outstanding players from the team which had won the 1979 World Youth Cup: the striker Ramon Diaz, and the phenomenon from Argentinos Juniors, a certain Diego Armando Maradona. This would be the latter's first appearance in a senior competitive event against European opposition - and he would learn a good deal from it. 

The Italians, too, had barely changed their line-up since the 1978 tournament, in which they had performed very well. But their young star in Argentina, Paolo Rossi, was suspended thanks to his involvement in the Totonero scandal, and his speed and opportunism would be much missed in the key game against the hosts.

The West Germans, fresh from victory in the 1980 Nations Cup, looked formidable. Their problems at centre-forward appeared to have been resolved in the person of Horst Hrubesch, the mighty Hamburg striker who had played such a key role in their Nations Cup success. Although their other main man in Italy, the playmaker Bernd Schuster, was unavailable, there were plenty of other household names among the squad that went to Montevideo: Karlheinz Rummenigge, Rainer Bonhof, Manfried Kaltz, Felix Magath. No-one could accuse the Germans of sending a scratch team.

And Uruguay? Their international fortunes had not been good of late, and apparently one of the motives for the staging of the tournament was to revive them. The Celeste had been unimpressive in their last World Cup appearance, in 1974; in the 1978 qualifiers, they had been humiliated by modest Bolivia. And in the 1979 Copa America, they had been knocked out in the group stage by Paraguay.

And yet there were some hopeful signs. Montevideo club Nacional had just won the Copa Libertadores, with the journeyman striker Waldemar Victorino - remember that name - scoring the only goal of the two-leg final against Internacional of Brazil. A number of good young players had recently emerged. Most importantly, they would be assured of fanatical home support.

Their situation was analogous to that of the Argentinians in 1978: a nation under a brutal military dictatorship, with both junta and people desperate for success in a football tournament, for very different reasons. And as with the 1978 World Cup, there was suspicion elsewhere that the hosts would have their road to the title smoothed in various ways, not least by the referees.

So how did things play out? More to come.

# posted by Mike Salter @ 10:56 AM 0 comments