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As the greatest sporting event in the world kicks off tomorrow, cannot help but take a nostalgic trip back to all those moments over the years associated with the FIFA world cup. As we await for the kick-off tomorrow my memory takes me back to my first FIFA world cup in 1986. 1985-86 was the year that I announced myself to the world i.e. I transformed from a toddler to an 8-year old boy old enough to build memories. I was inducted to the sporting world during India’s cricket tour of Australia in 1985-86 followed by the heart-breaking experience of Javed Miandad’s last ball six. The main viewers on the house were of course my father and our domestic help. Neither could gulp down their dinner on the night of that Miandad shot.
On my 8thbirthday in May, my grandfather gifted me an inflatable globe. That was my ‘Columbus’ moment when I learnt that the earth is round with 70% water and a number of countries. Till that time I had idea of only two – India where I lived and ‘America’, where most of my young uncles, aunties and cousins in their twenties were heading to. This was eye opener and it fascinated me. Just over two weeks later would start a great lesson in geography for me. All of a sudden, something very unusual would start at late nights on TV which was not cricket in whites but more glamorous and attractive. My first memory would be two colourful flags appearing on the screen under which was written BRAZIL and ALGERIA. That was enough to drag me into the world cup fever. Each time I saw a new country name with a flag appearing, I would try to find out on my globe. These two countries were followed by Poland and Denmark. Then one fine day two flags showed ‘Alemania’ and ‘Escocia’. On looking at my globe, to my utter disappointment, I never found these countries. Were they extra-terrestrials, I thought? Thankfully my father confirmed they were West Germany and Scotland respectively and that since the world cup was being held in Mexico, the Spanish names of the countries were displayed. The country which caught my imagination and who I decided to loyally support turned out to be France or Francia, as displayed on TV. Not because they were European champions which I was unaware of, not because of the mid-field comprising of Platini, Tigana and Fernandez but just because the name sounded nice and looked nice on my globe. For a very long time I had that soft corner for France culminating in Zidane’s farewell match in the 2006 final. The French vindicated and justified my support as they went from strength to strength. As the second round came in they beat Italy, who I thought must be a pushover, only to know that they were the defending champions. Then came THE showdown of the tournament – a Saturday night quarter final against Brazil. Now anyone, even an 8-year old in me, understood from the prevailing environment that Brazil is THE team in football. And now my team was up against the biggest challenge after knocking out the defending champions. Memories of that match are etched in my mind as if it was yesterday. Careca and Platini each score in the first half and then Zico comes on as a substitute, and then THAT missed penalty. I remember my father saying how unfair it was to ask Zico to take that penalty when he had come on only minutes ago. It would forever be a scar on the great man’s career which would end without a world cup despite being part of a great team (an unpardonable offence in Brazil). It was late at night in India even though a noon kick-off in Mexico and I remember myself staying awake along with my father and our domestic help. However, I soon dozed off after that missed penalty (and a missed heartbeat) and missed witnessing my first ever penalty shootout. Next morning I was updated that my team had beaten THE Brazil with a little bit of explanation from my father as to how the shoot-out or the tie-breaker worked. That’s it then, I had the air of invincibility around me. My team had knocked out Italy and Brazil. Everyone around me was full of praise for the French goal-keeper Joel Bats who was the hero of the day. Little did I know then that Brazil was the ‘home’ team of my city and people around me were devastated. I focused on my team and next up was some country named West Germany or Alemania as I had once watched before. I thought it would be cakewalk. After all who is this ‘West Germany’ in front of Italy and Brazil, all of three titles each as updated by my father. However, he missed out telling me that this ‘West Germany’ are two time champions as well (and to my utter shock, he updated that France had never won). As I confidently watched the semi-final on Wednesday in the best possible mood with Thursday being my mid-week holiday, West Germany made me pay for taking them lightly. A powerful free-kick slipped past the now great Joel Bats hands. How could this possibly happen, I wondered? Even the 8-year old in me cursed the goal-keeper and was shocked much the same way as adults we cursed Luis Karius a few days back (2018 Champions League Final). I turned into a serious football fan that day as France missed chance after chance and each time I almost tore my hair. Unlike the previous few occasions I did not sleep off and saw till the end when Voller rubbed salt into our wounds with a counter-attacking last minute goal. Biggest learning for me that day was the introduction to ‘West Germany’, the third super-power along with Italy and Brazil. Thank God, I did not know the history about their 1982 semi-final four years back. The defeat would have hurt even more.
All this while, however, a name was doing the rounds MARADONA. I do not recall watching a single Argentina game live. Probably they were those late night matches and hence did not cross my radar. But everyone was talking about them especially the classic quarter final game against England. The day after the French heart-break they showed the repeat telecast of the other semi-final and there I saw Maradona scoring a brace against Belgium. As the final day approached, there was only one name now on everyone’s lips. Scoring twice in quarters and semis, how many would he get past the Germans in the final, that was the question. It seemed unthinkable that Germans would be able to stop him from scoring.
The final day arrived on June 29th and I remember the West Germans looking completely different in green jerseys. They had earned my respect now but this final was all about Maradona. After 55 minutes, it looked to be a cakewalk. Argentina lead by 2 goals but how could possibly Maradona not score was the thought process? Of course, he was followed like a shadow by Lothar Matheus but that was something I learnt many years later when I read reports. Question in my mind was will Maradona score (as Argentina had all but won)? With this question I had no idea when I dozed off. I woke up the next morning late as our school had given us a holiday considering that we all will have a late night. I was convinced that Argentina would have won and my domestic help duly confirmed that. No surprise initially, just that he said that Germany made it 2-2 and then Argentina scored the winner. I asked did Maradona score? He confirmed that he gave that winning pass. I was totally in shock and rued what I missed. That’s what the FIFA world cup can do to even an 8-year old. The seeds of the wanderlust that I have today as a travel blogger were sown during this world cup and the mind travelled to Brazil, Argentina, France and Germany many a times.
As an aside, I must mention here that FIFA world cups were such that everything else would be forgotten during the one month. Sunil Gavaskar, Sachin Tendulkar, Kapil Dev and the cricketing world would become non-entities (hard to imagine today) and even the Wimbledon would be reduced to a side-show grabbing a footnote in the sports pages of the newspapers. However, 1986 was an exception. In the midst of the world cup I remember distinctly my household following the Indian team’s great victory in the test series in England. For a while and for long patches, Dilip Vengsarkar threatened to steal Maradona’s thunder. Overall a dream June for a sports fan.
