Friday, June 11, 2010

Men who matter: Joe Gaetjens and Belo Horizonte, 1950

With the United States and England squaring off in Saturday's much-anticipated match, I wanted to spotlight a great ESPN.com piece by Leander Schaerlaeckens written earlier this year about the mythical hero of the United States' legendary 1-0 victory over mighty England at the 1950 World Cup in Brazil, goal-scorer Joe Gaetjens.

A man scores a goal in a faraway land.

The goal single-handedly fells a giant.

Nobody knows who the man is, his teammates included. All that is left behind are a few grainy black-and-white photographs. A team picture shows a ruggedly handsome man with piercing black eyes kneeling over the vehicle of his fame, a soccer ball. Another shows him smiling sheepishly as he's carried off the field by overjoyed Brazilian spectators, not quite sure of what is happening to him.

As unceremoniously as he appears, the man vanishes. The man turns into myth. Unimpeded, myth snowballs into ambiguity. Ambiguity gives way to misinformation.

The gray matter separating man from myth doesn't collide with the truth until more information is unearthed.

When we finally learn more about Joe Gaetjens, the Haitian striker who scored the only goal in the United States' astonishing victory over England at the 1950 World Cup in Brazil, we discover the man was just a man. One who, like all of us, wanted more than he had.

Few men can stand up to the scrutiny of their myth and come out ahead, truth transpiring as remarkable as legend. Joe Gaetjens can.

Joe Gaetjens was not Belgian. And his father wasn't, either

His name sounded Flemish. The Flemings are the Dutch-speaking half of Belgium. Considering the tidal wave of Flemish immigrants that washed over North America in the 19th century, the assumption that Gaetjens was of Belgian descent held credence. But Gaetjens, in spite of the '-jens' suffix, is not a common name in Flanders.

Genealogic research shows that Joe's great-grandfather, Thomas, migrated to Haiti from Bremen, in northern Germany, where the Gaetjens name is rather common. (A close variation on Gaetjens -- Gätjens -- is also oft-heard just north of there, over the Danish border.) Thomas arrived in Haiti shortly after 1825 (when France officially recognized Haiti's independence) and married Leonie Dejoie, whose father was a general and had played a part in Haiti's self-determination. That connection opened a path to prosperity for the Gaetjens family.

Joe's father Edmond's birth certificate was registered at the German embassy in Haiti to ensure that he could take on the German nationality, should the need ever arise. Whether he ever did is unclear, but that he was Belgian, as was commonly held, can be ruled out.

Joe Gaetjens was not a slum dweller

When Gaetjens was picked up by the U.S. national team in 1950, he worked as a dishwasher in Rudy's Cafe, which served Spanish food on the corner of 111th Street and Lenox Avenue in Harlem. José Lorente, a teammate of Gaetjens' on the Brookhattan Galicia soccer team, recalls seeing Gaetjens working behind the bar the day he first met with Eugene "Rudy" Diaz, who owned Rudy's and Brookhattan.

At Rudy's, Gaetjens complemented his pay for Brookhattan, an elite team in the now-defunct American Soccer League (ASL). That tidbit, combined with the fact that he hailed from one of the poorest countries in the world, must have led to the flawed conclusion that Gaetjens came from abject circumstances.

Gaetjens, however, had not come to New York to eke out a living on the fringes of the labor market but to study accounting at Columbia University. In fact, his great-grandfather had been sent to Haiti as a business emissary by the king of Prussia, a position that -- by the latter half of the 19th century -- he had parlayed into a vast business empire. The U.S. occupation of Haiti (which lasted from 1915 through 1934), the economic isolation of Germany stemming from World War I and the quarreling over assets by his sons eventually took their toll on the Gaetjens family's business interests. By the time Edmond Gaetjens, a salesman, and his wife, Antonine "Toto" Defay, had their third child, Joe, who was born in Port-au-Prince on March 19, 1924, the family was no longer extravagantly wealthy. Nevertheless, the Gaetjenses were still firmly ensconced among the Haitian elite.

"Joe definitely didn't learn to play soccer barefoot on the street of Port-au-Prince," says Joe's nephew, James Gaetjens, who lives in Miami. Joe had learned to play on proper soccer cleats on the grass lawn of the family's own backyard. "They wanted it to seem like he was boat people," James says. "That's completely false."

At 14, Tijoe -- meaning "little Joe" -- joined L'Etoile Haitienne, with whom he won Haitian championships in 1942 and 1944. But soccer didn't pay the bills. And so in 1947 it was decided that, as there were no opportunities in the family business, Joe would be sent to Columbia to study accounting, the way his older brother Gérard had previously.

In addition to studying and washing dishes, Gaetjens joined Brookhattan for $25 a game.

Joe Gaetjens did not practice voodoo

"Absolutely not!" shouts his indignant younger sister, Mireille, reached in Puerto Rico.

"The Game of Their Lives," the 2005 movie about the historic upset, had been ludicrously inaccurate. The film made light-skinned Gaetjens, played by dark-skinned Jimmy Jean-Louis, out to be some sort of voodoo nut.

The Gaetjens family was appalled. In real life, Gaetjens was Catholic, like most Haitians, and went to church every Sunday.

"Our family traded rum and coffee and ran schools," Mireille says over the phone. "No family member was into voodoo. I've never even seen voodoo being practiced. Nobody in the family has ever even set foot in a voodoo church!"

Joe Gaetjens did not join the team on Ellis Island

After England's elimination from the World Cup, it was widely suggested in the British media that the U.S. team had been recruited at Ellis Island, a team whose players had honed their skills away from U.S. soil.

"There were a lot of reports that the whole team was a bunch of immigrants, just off the boat," says Walter Bahr, a left midfielder on the team. "That certainly wasn't the case."

True. The formation of the team nonetheless was chaotic. The U.S. was one of only four teams in the North American Football Confederation at the time. Two of them were to go to the tournament in Brazil. In the 1949 qualifying tournament in Mexico City, the U.S. lost 6-0 and 6-2 to Mexico but beat Cuba 5-2 and drew 1-1 to qualify (Canada didn't participate). The U.S. had played in the 1948 Olympics in London, which ended in a disastrous 9-0 loss to Italy in the first round. The London team had gone on to lose exhibition games to Norway and Northern Ireland by scores of 11-0 and 5-0.

Keen on avoiding such humiliation in Brazil, the U.S. Federation went scrambling for new and better players from outside its traditional St. Louis breeding ground. "From the Olympic team from '48 a few were selected for the '49 team, and from the '49 team there were five or six that were selected to play in '50," Bahr says.

Adding players was no simple chore. "I don't know of anybody that made a living off soccer back when I played. Everybody had a job," says Bahr, who was a gym teacher in Philadelphia. "I had a leave of absence to go to Mexico, but the next year we were to go right before the school year and a few people had to go to bat for me to keep the school district from replacing me."

The players would be paid $100 a week at the World Cup, which was twice what Bahr made with the ASL's Philadelphia Nationals, which in turn was more than the $46 a week he made teaching. Not all employers were so understanding, though. Ben McLaughlin of Philadelphia had to withdraw from the team, unable to leave his job.

"Five or six of us were from St. Louis and a couple of guys from Philadelphia," says Harry Keough, the team's right back. "We had some pretty good players, but we didn't have a lot of practice together. They just kind of threw us together and we played a practice game and that was it."

Bahr, one of the holdovers from the '48 Olympic team, says, "We had absolutely no training or preparation before we left to get down to Brazil. Fortunately, the players from the East knew each other well and the five players from St. Louis knew each other pretty well. We hit it off pretty good. But the only game we really played together as a team was in New York."

The day before leaving for Brazil, the team scrimmaged against a travel select team of English players in New York (and lost 1-0), before which three more players had been added to the team: Joseph Maca, who was born in Belgium; Ed McIlvenny, a Scotsman; and Joe Gaetjens.

The latter was little known. "We knew him on the East Coast, from the American Soccer League," Bahr remembers. "But nobody else knew him. I don't think he was even involved in the tryouts for that team. He was just added to the selection." Even though Gaetjens had led the ASL in scoring in 1950, some questioned his ability and seriousness; others did not.

"The first time I met Joe was the day before that scrimmage when we worked out a little," says Keough, who learned to play soccer in his Spanish neighborhood in St. Louis. "Joe was just a lovable guy, like a kid really."

With Gaetjens in tow, the U.S. national team set off for Brazil and the last edition of the World Cup as an obscure tournament.
Joe Gaetjens' goal was not a fluke.

When the team arrived, only a few days remained until the U.S. was to play its opening game against Spain in Curitiba. That practice time was a luxury, however. "That was one of the few times before we played the big games that we got a few days beforehand to practice and get to know each other," Keough says. "Usually when we went on a trip like that, a lot of guys had jobs so we came shortly beforehand and we were out of shape, because we didn't play in the summer in the U.S."

The U.S. would lead against Spain until the 75th minute, when John "Clarkie" Souza's 17th-minute goal for the U.S. was negated by three Spanish goals. "A win or a tie would have helped us advance, but that strategy wasn't part of soccer at the time," Bahr says. "You didn't sit back and protect your goal. The best defense was a good offense. Even though we were up a goal with [15] minutes to play we still went up and tried to score a second goal and cement victory."

Next came England, in possession of the world's best players and credited with inventing and popularizing the modern game. To call this a David versus Goliath game would have overstated David's stature considerably. This really wasn't a game at all -- it was a demonstration, like the ones England played all over the world.

The Belfast Telegraph had anointed the U.S. a "band of no-hopers," and coach Bill Jeffrey, in what was either a fine piece of underdog positioning or genuine concern, had declared his team "sheep ready to be slaughtered." The bookies perhaps said it best. They had given the stacked England team a 3-1 chance to hoist the World Cup. The U.S. was priced at 500-1.

England strained to beat Chile 2-0 in its opener, but that was no cause for concern with regard to the U.S. game. As against Chile, Stanley Matthews -- England's star player and thought to be the world's best -- would be rested for this automatic win. Matthews would be kept sprightly for games that mattered. An English double-digit victory in the new Estádio Independência in Belo Horizonte on June 29 was the consensus prediction for the outcome, after all.

The English camp wasn't a happy one, though, and the Americans had shed some of their insecurities. "We were confident in that we were playing better than we'd expected," Bahr says. "I thought of the three games we played in Brazil our best game was against Spain. And going into the [England] game, it built up our confidence somewhat. I don't think anybody realistically felt that we had a chance to win against England, but anytime you walk onto the field, anything might happen, we might have a couple of good bounces and they might not be able to find the net."

The U.S. found itself walking into a friendly atmosphere. "A couple hundred Americans had come from a Navy or Air Force base, so we knew they were there," Bahr recalls. "The overwhelming majority was Brazilians, but they rooted for us the entire time. We didn't realize why until after. They [were] hoping we would beat England and that Brazil would not have to play England in the final game." As the game progressed and the upset was taking shape, the attendance, which had been a sparse 10,000 at kickoff, grew, even trebled, according to some, as a Brazilian radio broadcast of the game had whipped listeners into a frenzy.

As expected, England dominated and took the bulk of the chances, which were all for naught. In the 37th minute, a McIlvenny throw-in was controlled by Bahr on the right. Bahr attempted an ambitious diagonal shot, intended for the far corner of the goal. England keeper Bert Williams went in pursuit of what appeared to be an easy save when out of nowhere Gaetjens launched into an all-out headfirst dive through traffic, barely connecting with the ball, which flew slowly into the net to the left of Williams, whose momentum was still carrying him in the opposite direction. Gaetjens, planted face down in the grass, never did see his goal.

There was an awful lot of soccer left to play, but England's shots refused to find their way past American goalie Frank Borghi, with regular interventions from the woodwork to thank.

In the 82nd minute, the English fashioned their best chance. Stan Mortensen (right), one of Britain's stars, had broken through clear on goal, on his way to scoring the presumably inevitable equalizer when Charlie Colombo, perhaps the best U.S. player on the day, caught up and applied a superb tackle from behind, punished only by a free kick. Colombo, a tough-as-nails central defender charged with covering Mortensen, would go unheralded by history. "Colombo wasn't what you'd call a good soccer player, but he was a good defender," recalls Keough, who knew him well from a rival St. Louis team. "He wouldn't hesitate to knock a guy on his rear end. If his mother was on the other team, he probably would have kicked her, too. He played very well in that game. He was stepping over the line a few times, but he got away with it most of the time. He was very important that day in keeping the defense together."

(Colombo, who wore gloves with the fingertips cut off in every game he played, no matter how hot, would be offered a professional contract with a Brazilian club the day after the game. He turned it down and returned to St. Louis.)

The free kick gave Alf Ramsey, another star, an opportunity just outside the 16-yard box. His kick found a fellow British head and trickled beyond Borghi's reach, toward the goal line. Borghi managed to recover and slapped the ball over the back line.

With the danger defused, England's resistance broke and one of the greatest upsets in World Cup history was at hand. "Colombo took off his mittens, and the first thing I heard him say in that raspy voice of his was 'It's about time we beat these bastards,'" Keough says.

"I did feel for them," Bahr says. "For us, it was a victory and we were gonna get our recognition. But how were they going to explain losing that game back home? It was going to haunt them for years. And there was no answer to it."

The media, which scarcely made note of the impossible win, couldn't explain it, either. The Reuters wire service accurately published the result as 1-0, but most papers, assuming that the telex-operator had made a mistake, changed it to 10-0 or 10-1. A St. Louis Post writer had attended the game because he happened to be on holiday in the area, but never bothered to write anything up. The Associated Press did write a report, which ran in The New York Times, but it credited the goal to Ed Souza and made no mention of Gaetjens. It did accurately note that "It was a rude shock for the English team to lose." A handful of photographers had attended the game, but there are no known images of Gaetjens' winning header. The photographers had spent most of the game behind the U.S. goal.

England lost 1-0 to Spain and didn't advance to the final round. The U.S. would lose its final game to Chile, 5-2, and finished last in Group 2. Despite England's elimination, Brazil didn't win the title, losing 2-1 to second-time winner Uruguay in the final game of the final round.

After the U.S.-England game, a barrage of excuses was blasted from the England camp. It had been too hot. Travel had been strenuous. But this one would stick: Gaetjens' goal had been a lucky one.

All Americans and most English present on the scene dispute that.

"I took a shot from 25 yards out that was moving to the goalkeeper's right," Bahr remembers. "I hit it fairly well, it was gonna be on goal. [Williams] started to move to his right for my shot. Joe Gaetjens somehow got to the ball. … Did he make an honest attempt and head it into the goal or did it ricochet off him? He left his feet, he dove at the ball. I'm guessing the ball was five feet in the air. He's in traffic; there are a lot of people in the 16-yard area. He didn't get a clean head at it, but he definitely made a concerted effort. Joe was a guy who had a nose for the goal. He scored goals where you didn't know how he got to the ball, let alone scored the goals."

"He didn't score lucky goals," says José Lorente, Gaetjens' teammate on Brookhattan in 1949 and 1950, where Gaetjens was known for scoring acrobatic goals. "Whenever he scored, he scored because he was looking to. When he was jumping and trying to hit the ball with the head, it was very spectacular. He was very secure in what he was doing. The goal was not really lucky."

"If you saw Joe Gaetjens play before and after that game, Joe Gaetjens was a very athletic type of player," Keough says. "And what he did, dove and made that goal, you'd seen other examples of Joe's ability to get that body around somebody. He was very quick, and anytime a cross would come he was dangerous because he would find a way to get his head to the ball -- he had good timing. That goal was a classic example of that."

That take is corroborated by England's Laurie Hughes, who covered Gaetjens on the play in question. Bert Williams seems to remember it very differently, though. "The American team turned up wearing sombreros, smoking cigars and they only had about six kicks of the ball in 90 minutes," he recently told a British paper. "Unfortunately, one of them took a big deflection and wrong-footed me for the winning goal."

Hordes of clamoring fans were not waiting upon the U.S. players' return. Divided among at least three flights -- the tournament's organizers had hurried them out, to save money -- only Bahr's wife was there to meet them in New York, so she could take her husband up to the summer camp in the Adirondacks where they made some extra money when school was out.

"A St. Louis guy's wife had come to the airport, too," Bahr says. "Just to scold him for being back late."

Joe Gaetjens was not ineligible to play for the United States.

Like Joseph Maca and Ed McIlvenny, Gaetjens was not an American, which a FIFA administrator objected to after the tournament. The three foreigners had come to FIFA's attention when Maca gave an interview to a Belgian paper in which he'd been asked how he'd been able to play for the U.S., given that he had represented a Belgian military team in the past. FIFA ordered an investigation in November 1950.

Just how unknown the American players were at that time was evident in the FIFA correspondence in which Maca's name was misspelled as Macca. FIFA argued that because the players weren't citizens, they hadn't been eligible to represent the U.S. Additionally, it said Maca should have been cleared by the Belgian federation to play for another country. The U.S. federation countered that the 1950 World Cup had operated under what was known as the "English rulebook," which stated that every country could draw up its own eligibility requirements. The U.S. had decided that having signed one's "First Papers," a first step on the path to citizenship, declaring one's intentions, would suffice to represent the country, which all three contested players had done.

FIFA accepted this explanation, ending the investigation. England hadn't lodged a protest anyway, presumably hoping to forget the defeat had ever happened.

What the U.S. had done was not out of the ordinary at the time. After the first leg of the qualifiers against Cuba, a number of new players materialized for the Cubans. They were said to be Argentines, but according to Cuban rules, if you spoke Spanish, you could become a citizen in 24 hours, allowing the new recruits to play.

The 1950 World Cup did not set Joe Gaetjens on a road to fortune and fame.

A few months after the tournament ended, Gaetjens dropped out of Columbia and went to the French league, keen to capitalize on the exposure the World Cup had offered him.

He signed with Racing Club de Paris. But although Gaetjens, who was fluent in French, Spanish and English, was said to enjoy his time in France, his stay would be a short one. He struggled to adjust to the discipline of the French league and would play only four games for Racing, scoring twice. That and his deteriorating knees caused Racing to offer him to Troyes AC, which played a division lower, in exchange for a young striker. Troyes demurred. For the 1952-53 season, Gaetjens resurfaced at Alès, a lower league team famous only for producing current star French winger Franck Ribery. He would make 15 appearances and score two goals. He wasn't brought back for the next season.

"It was hard to adjust to a different country back then," says Lorente, who had played professionally in France after deserting Gen. Francisco Franco's Spanish army. "There was a different style."

Gaetjens wasn't the only one to find employment in Europe. Ed McIlvenny joined Manchester United, and Joseph Maca went to Racing White, a Belgian Third Division club -- where, he noted, most players were better than the members of the 1950 U.S. team.

Joe Gaetjens was not necessarily executed by Papa Doc, but he may well have been.

After his short-lived professional career in France, Gaetjens returned to Haiti to become a spokesman for Palmolive and Colgate. "Thousands of people awaited him at the airport upon his return," Mireille says. "Lots of cars escorted him home, too."

He rejoined L'Etoile Haitienne and was expected to star for them. But at 29, Gaetjens had grown injury-prone and regularly got bloody noses from exertion. Because he had never become an American, he was able to line up for Haiti when it played Mexico on Dec. 27, 1953, in a qualifier for the 1954 World Cup. During the game, Gaetjens got another bloody nose and didn't play well. It would be his last competitive game.

Later in the qualifying series, Haiti hosted the U.S. team, which was invited to a lavish party at Gaetjens' villa overlooking Port-au-Prince. That was the last time he would see his teammates from the 1950 team.

Gaetjens married his first cousin Liliane in 1955, a common arrangement in Haiti at the time. "He barely knew her since he'd lived in France," Mireille says. "It's not like they'd grown up together." Joe adored her, and the two had three children (two sons, Leslie and Gerry, are still alive). He also opened a successful dry cleaning business, grew roses in his yard and coached youth soccer. Gaetjens was especially generous to young players from the slums -- purportedly giving away bags of money every day.

"He brought kids to the field and trained them two or three days a week and let anyone come," James Gaetjens says. "He would leave with money but came home with empty pockets. If a poor soccer player asked him for money so he could eat, Joe would give it. He was naturally generous."

Although Joe didn't have the faintest interest in politics, his still influential family did. Physician François "Papa Doc" Duvalier had won the 1957 presidential election. Gaetjens family members had supported his opponent, Louis Dejoie, to whom they were related. An attempted coup soon turned Papa Doc into a ruthless dictator. His paranoia exerted its wrath chiefly on those who had supported Dejoie. Many fled. The Gaetjens family didn't. The Gaetjenses also were well connected to the Duvalier camp and reckoned they were safe. But Joe's oldest brother, Gérard, started getting harassed by the regime. On numerous occasions, he managed to escape arrest thanks to tipoffs from friends. Such was the power of the Gaetjens family that when Gérard did get arrested one day, his wife's cousin managed to get an audience with Papa Doc at 5 a.m., persuading him to release her husband.

Duvalier would not be so lenient a second time, as he had learned that Joe's two younger brothers, Jean-Pierre and Fred, who were living in the Dominican Republic, had been associated with an exiled group trying to stage a coup. Duvalier pronounced himself president for life on the night of July 7, 1964. Taking the advice of a friendly police officer, the whole family went into hiding at 6 a.m. the next day. Except for Joe. He had nothing to do with any of it, he reasoned. He didn't care about politics.

At 10 a.m., the same police officer came for Joe. Regimes such as Papa Doc's had a habit of taking reprisals on family members when they couldn't get to those they really wanted. Joe would be held responsible for his family's actions and was taken to the infamous police prison at Fort Dimanche, where his brother also had been held. It's the last thing we know about Joe Gaetjens.

Each midnight, a prisoner's name would be called at Fort Dimanche. He would then be stood against the courtyard wall and executed. It is widely assumed that Gaetjens was executed on July 10, 1964. Some members of the Gaetjens family believe that a notorious police chief, who was also an acquaintance of the family's and a close friend of Joe's, was the man to pull the trigger. Others believe Joe died from the hardships he suffered in prison. If Gaetjens wasn't executed on July 10, it likely happened soon thereafter, as all Fort Dimanche prisoners are believed to have been executed in the following days.

On Jan. 1, 1965, Joe's mother, Toto, and Mireille, now out of hiding, made one of many attempts to get Joe released, clutching to hope that he was still alive. New Year's Day is when Haiti celebrates its independence. It is customary for people to go wish the president well that day. Toto decided to use the opportunity to plead her son's case. "We arrived at the palace to get in line at 5 a.m.," Mireille recalls. "By midnight, we figured the president wouldn't be seeing anybody else. There were just four or five people left in front of us. So [Toto] yelled out to him, 'Why did you imprison him? He has nothing to do with politics, he just plays soccer!'" Duvalier overruled guards attempting to hush her up and summoned her over. "'I promise you that tomorrow your son will be released,' he told us," Mireille says. "He was very convincing. We went home hopeful that he was still alive. We waited all day the next day. Joe never came. When Joe wasn't released, I knew that either Joe was dead or that Duvalier had lied."

A few months later, Mireille's husband was told by a colleague at the flour mill, where he was an aide to the director, that for $4,000 he could get Joe released, presumably by bribing a guard. The family showed up at the designated spot the next day, ready to shepherd Joe to a foreign embassy to apply for political asylum. Again, they waited all day. Joe was dead. No one had found him in the Fort Dimanche prison.

If Duvalier promised somebody's release but the person in question never materialized, it was because he had been killed, most Haitians knew that. Duvalier was said to be honest about these things.

Mireille doesn't buy it. "He was not an honest man," she says in French, her brittle octogenarian voice suddenly acquiring a commanding timbre, throbbing with resentment. "He was a criminal. A murderer. A thief. He didn't care, he did whatever he wanted."

The conclusion that Joe Gaetjens became one of 30,000 casualties of the Papa Doc regime is highly plausible. He wouldn't be the last casualty of political bloodshed in the family. Gérard died in a politically motivated attack in 1990, after returning to Haiti. Their youngest sister, Matho, on the other hand, served as a minister of social affairs in Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide's first cabinet.

Gaetjens was honored in a benefit game involving the New York Cosmos and a team of local Haitians at Yankee Stadium in 1972. He was inducted into the U.S. Soccer Hall of Fame posthumously in 1976.

In 2000, Joe Gaetjens' motherland made its only attempt at honoring him, arranging to release a postage stamp depicting him. A governmental crisis torpedoed the plan.

Joe Gaetjens was not the man people said he was. He was a different man. Neither better nor worse. All that was remembered accurately was his name. And the gist of his accomplishment. It detracts nothing from a splendid story, the one that bred our infatuation in the first place. So it goes with myths.



Pictured above are members of the 1950 United States World Cup team that defeated England, 1-0. Bottom row (from left), Frank Wallace, Ed McIlvenny, Gino Pariani, Joe Gaetjens, John "Clarkie" Souza, Ed Souza. Back row (from left) assistant manager Bill "Chubby" Lyons, Joe Maca, Charlie Colombo, Frank Borghi, Harry Keough, Walter Bahr, coach Bill Jeffrey. Not pictured: manager Walter Geisler

And if this post wasn't quite long enough, I thought I would also include the biographies of the other members of that famous team:

Goalkeeper
Frank Borghi: A field medic in the United States army during World War II while still a teenager, he was stationed at Basingstoke, England and crossed the English Channel the day after D-Day and remained with the army until the end of the war. He played for numerous teams in the St. Louis League including the Schumachers, Simpkins and Strambose. Before playing in the World Cup he won United States Open Cup winners medals with Simpkins in 1948 and 1950

Fullbacks
Harry Keough: His outstanding career began in 1946 as a member of the St. Louis Schumachers team that won the United States Junior Cup. Shortly after that, he found himself in the U.S. navy operating a destroyer out of San Francisco and while on the coast he played for the San Francisco Barbarians. Later, he won numerous honors with the St. Louis Kutis and Raiders and also played in the 1952 and 1956 Olympics. He worked for the post office for many years and was also a highly successful coach at Saint Louis University

Joe Maca: Played in the Belgian third division for La Forestoise before coming to play in the U.S. Played club football for Brooklyn Hispano in the American Soccer League

Center backs
Ed McIlvenny: Just before coming to the U.S., he was playing professionally for Welsh team Wrexham in the English professional league. Played in the American Soccer League for Philadelphia Nationals. After the World Cup, played for Manchester United and Irish team Waterford

Charlie Colombo: Born and raised on the famous "Hill" in St. Louis, Colombo won United States Open Cup medals with Simpkins in 1948 and 1950 and also played in the 1948 London Olympics

Walter Bahr: His long career began with the famous Lighthouse Boys Club in Philadelphia. He went on to play for the Philadelphia Nationals and Uhrik Truckers in the American Soccer League and was a member of the U.S. team in the 1948 Olympics. Later coached at Penn State

Forwards

Frank Wallace: Spent the early years of his career with the St. Louis Wildcats before serving in the army in World War II as a member of the 191st tank battalion. Was involved in the Salerno landings and later took part in the famous Anzio beachhead, where his tank was set on fire by a German shell and he was captured, spending 15 months in a prison camp. After the war, he returned to St. Louis where he played for Raferty's and Simpkins and won U.S. Open Cup medals in 1948 and 1950

Gino Pariani: A member of the 1948 Olympic team. Won the United States Open Cup with Simpkins in 1948 and 1950. Playing career began at the age of 13 as a member of Schumachers in the St. Louis Municipal League

Johnny Souza: As a member of the Ponta Delgada team in Fall River, Mass., he won a United States Open Cup medal in 1947 and United States Amateur Cup medals in 1946, 1947, 1948 and 1950. Played in the 1948 Olympics

Ed Souza: Began his career at the Slade School in Fall River and eventually moved up to the Ponta Delgada team. Won a United States Open Cup medal in 1947 and played in the United States Amateur Cup finals in 1947 and 1948. Was a member of the 1948 Olympic team. Despite a common misconception, was not actually related to Johnny Souza

Staff

Walter Geisler, manager: Played for McBride High in St. Louis and also spent time in the St. louis Municipal League, before joining the Ben Millers, a local professional team. Also worked as a referee five years before going into administrative work. Climbed the ladder, and was eventually voted president of the United States Soccer Football Association in 1948 and 1949. Coached the 1948 Olympic team in London and managed the 1950 World Cup team. Was chairman of the 1952 USSFA Olympic Committee and traveled with the team to Helsinki

Bill Jeffrey, coach: Played semi-professionally as a youth in Scotland before coming to Pennsylvania, where he played for Altoona, Homestead, Braddock and Bethlehem. While acting as player-manager of Altoona in 1925, was offered the head coaching job at Penn State. Coached the Nittany Lions well into the 1960s and won 10 national championships. Coached the 1950 World Cup team

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Chasing Diego

Here is a sterling piece from Jimmy Burns on the man who will likely be the most compelling figure at the World Cup, Diego Armando Maradona.

It's with mixed feelings that I see my biography of Diego Maradona hitting the streets – again. To be accurate, this is not so much a new book but the latest revised and updated edition of a tome I first completed back in 1996. Since then I have lost count of the number of editions that have been published around the world of "The Hand of God", in English, and translated into every conceivable language, from Dutch to Chinese.

There seems to be an enduring appetite for this flawed genius of the game of football that transcends cultures and nations, more so perhaps than that felt for any other sportsman, dead or alive. But chasing Diego over all these years, and keeping track of his helter-skelter life, off and on the pitch, has been an exciting as well as wasting experience. While following Maradona over the years has enhanced my love of football, my relationship with the player has seen love mixed in with loathing, for what he had done to himself, and what he did to me, with drugs and betrayal part of our shared experience.

Retracing Maradona's steps from the shanty town outside Buenos Aires where he was born to the psychologist's couch that formed part of his rehab, via the stadiums and inner secrets of clubs like Boca Juniors, Barcelona, Napoli and Seville, and the higher political intrigues of Argentinian international football, brought me the game at its most magical and its most tragic, and all personified by one man's extraordinary capacity to come back from the dead, and live to see another day.

My latest encounter with Maradona began earlier this year when I revisited Buenos Aires, after a break of some years. Maradona turned down a formal interview but we ended up shadowing each other for a few days, in an apparent attempt to demonstrate how many demons we had or had not left behind us. I had by now recovered from the breakdown I partly blamed Diego for in the mid-1990s and Maradona himself seemed a man transformed. His latest act of irresponsible behaviour--a foul-mouthed and sexually abusive rant against some journalists when Argentina qualified for the World Cup--may have led to a dip in his poll ratings but it has since turned into a mere blip on a road to redemption in his new role as coach of the national team.

His past infidelities have been forgiven and he shares his luxury home near Buenos Aires airport with his latest girlfriend, the reclusive shopkeeper Veronica Ojeda, while his ex-wife Claudia manages his financial affairs. He is reconciled with his daughters, is a doting grandfather to the child of Giannina, the younger of his daughters and herself the wife of a footballer (Sergio Aguero of Atletico Madrid), and a supportive dad to the elder one, Dalma, a successful young actress.

I saw Dalma in a three-woman play in The Calle Corrientes, Buenos Aires's version of Broadway. It was the night after the opening, and the small theatre was packed with Maradona's family and friends. It was a gathering of face-lifts, ostentatious jewellery and tight-fitting Italian suits and dresses. It was like a scene from The Godfather, although there is no suggestion that the mafia was present, still less any drugs.

The play is no Shakespeare. Called Fire of Women, it is a tough contemporary satire about the generational gaps between a grandmother, mother and daughter (played by Dalma). The three spend most of the play shouting personal abuse at each other, only stopping occasionally when they hear the music of Sandro, Argentina's legendary pop star--the Latin American Elvis--who died just as the play was set to be premiered.

Dalma has the dark and somewhat demonic eyes of her father and seems to fit quite naturally into the role of a spoilt little bitch, mouthing bad language. She is overweight, and wears a permanent expression of an adolescent pout, which makes her perfect for the role of a bulimic teenager obsessed with her weight, her stage mother's lesbianism and her stage grandmother's endless facelifts

. The play ends with the grandmother tricking daughter and granddaughter into a enclosed room, and setting light to the gas, so that all presumably perish. It is a nihilistic end to a terrible play which shows Argentina at its worst.

On the first night Maradona came along with Claudia, and posed for happy family snaps with Dalma clutching his gift of a large teddy bear. Maradona, who these days cuts a professorial air with his greying but healthy-looking beard, was on his best behaviour, charming with the media and playing the part of a doting dad almost to perfection. Friends say he hasn't touched the hard stuff in years.

Such is the public persona. And yet dig beneath the surface and Maradona remains the same unpredictable, erratic genius I first encountered as his biographer. Thus I was not surprised to hear, just a few days ago, how he insulted an injured cameraman after accidentally running over his leg ahead of the announcement of the Argentina squad. "What an asshole you are," Maradona shouted from his car, "How can you put your legs there where it can get run over, man?"

His occasional descent into violence--of word or deed--is the product as much of his environment as of his inner demons: his upbringing in the lawless lands of the shanty town, the paranoia which hangs over from his long-term drug abuse, the hangers-on and opportunists who have made their own habit of making use of him.

Argentina is Latin America's failed state, forever falling short of its huge economic potential. It is noted for the corruption prevalent among its politicians and businessmen, and the wheeler-dealers that pervade the football industry, from top to bottom. It is a world Maradona moves in and out of with ease, the vested interests, including TV companies and sponsors, ensuring that despite his human failings and his wasted brilliance he is allowed to give more of himself. For all his public raging against the establishment, Maradona has spent most of his adult life being nourished as much by the powerful as by the hard-core fans that venerate him from Buenos Aires to Baghdad. His arrogance and natural vindictiveness have dented his popularity in particular among English fans who have never forgiven him for that cheating first hand-ball goal in Mexico in 1986. But among his loyal fans, the collective memory hangs on the moments of sheer magic he produced as a player, a natural talent that learnt to control a ball in the dust before becoming rich.
On my recent return journey to Argentina--a country where I lived and worked for several years--I made a point of checking out the southern Buenos Aires neighbourhood of La Boca, where the myth of Maradona as the people's idol has endured the longest. I found myself arriving late, behind busloads of tourists converging on the area. Amid the tango dancers and pavement painters, the no less mercenary Maradona lookalikes--dressed in the Argentina national colours--balanced a football on their feet for less than a minute and charged $10. Nearby a statue of Maradona looked out from the second floor of a brightly coloured house once inhabited by a fisherman. There was a statue or a mural dedicated to Maradona almost on every corner of La Boca. The most solid remembrance was a large bronze statue at the entrance to the museum at La Bombonera, the Boca Juniors stadium. It is self-consciously heroic, like that of a Rocky Balboa, and less a work of art than a movie prop.

Boca Juniors is the club Maradona has always claimed is closest to his soul. Boca likes to see itself as the home of the marginalised, drawing to its bosom the dark-skinned Maradona lookalikes. Murals and sculptures have immortalised Maradona in and around La Bombonera, the stadium that has received him as player and fanatical fan. The museum is dedicated to a litany of eccentric legends from Rattin the Rat to Gatti the madman, although Maradona retains pride of place as the undisputed greatest of them all.

What the museum doesn't tell you is that Diego should have died some time in the 20th century-- ideally soon after the World Cup in Mexico in 1986-- or hung up his boots there and then, aged 25, three years older than Leo Messi is now, for no other reason than pure vanity, knowing that the history books had recorded the best goal of all time-- his second against England, a claim that was unlikely to be revised.

But Diego chose his own way of seeing out the 20th century and being in the first decade of the new millennium because he believes that God is on his side. At least that is what he has felt from the moment he was a toddler and he stumbled and fell into an open sewer in the backyard of his family hut, only to be rescued by his uncle Cirilo. One can lose count of how many times since then Diego has fallen, as the Italians say, from the stars to the stable, only to be resurrected, but my fate has been to have to follow every latest twist in his crazy, surreal existence.

My first edition seemed to reach a conveniently dramatic conclusion with the World Cup of 1994, when Maradona, after testing positive for a banned substance, was expelled from the tournament and seemed to quit international football, putting to an end a life rarely absent from the headlines.

Within six years, however, I found myself at the end of a transatlantic phone call informing me that Maradona had narrowly escaped surviving his version of a millennium binge and was in an intensive care unit in Uruguay. In that January of 2000 Maradona stared death in the face. Grossly overweight and over-dosed and suffering from a heart condition that he had inherited from his father, he collapsed while on vacation in the Uruguayan resort of Punta Del Este. Maradona's friend, the then Argentina president Carlos Menem, put it all down to a "stress attack". Later the Uruguayan police revealed that analysis of Maradona's blood and urine showed "excessive consumption of cocaine".

The exclusive bedside TV images, which his then manager Guillermo Coppola had negotiated on his client's behalf, showed Maradona recovering. But he had put on four stone since he had last quit playing, some three years earlier, after another brief comeback. He was bloated and puffy-eyed, and was hanging on. If it had been almost anybody else, Maradona would have died that day. But then his resilience, or mere good fortune, has always baffled his doctors and tormented his biographer.

But I'll rewind this story to an evening in September 1996 when Maradona sat facing me across a table of an Italian restaurant in London, looking at the first edition of my book about him which had just been delivered by the publishers. After months of chasing him around the world, I hoped this warts-and-all bio would be a defining moment by which I could measure his willingness to come to terms with himself.

And yet this was destined not to be a night of revelations. Maradona saved his reaction for a few days later while he was visiting the southern Spanish resort of Alicante for a "health cure". Pouring out his latest confession about his drug addiction, Maradona slammed all those who had helped me detail its consequences for the first time, accusing them of betrayal. "Burns has pissed all over me," he declared live on Spanish radio.

Hours later, Maradona went on a bender. In the early hours he returned to his hotel in a state of mind that one eye witness described as "very strange and disturbed". Maradona then got stuck in the lift when the electrics failed. He kicked the doors of the lift until his foot bled. After the fire brigade rescued him, he went on kicking out at tables and chairs, screaming until daybreak when the hotel management presented him with a bill for the damage.

Approaching the age of 37, past his sell-by date as a player and staring into the abyss, it seemed that this might be the start of the final stage of Maradona's turbulent life. But he had fallen from the stars to the stable before, only to get up again. I was stuck with him.

A few weeks earlier Maradona had announced he was quitting Boca Juniors after missing five penalties in a crucial phase of the local league championship. The man who had invoked a benign Deity in justifying his cheat goal against the English in Mexico 1986, now blamed "witches" for casting a negative spell on him. This mixing of football with God held a certain fascination for me as a Catholic. The reality, I was to discover, was that Maradona was continuing to struggle with a drug problem for which he was seeking help from an array of doctors. Senior officials of Boca Juniors privately warned that they feared Maradona might fatally collapse in the middle of a match, his heart simply giving up under the strain of his drug abuse.

And yet nothing with Maradona ever turns out quite like others would have it, and within days of his collapse in Uruguay he was residing in Havana, Cuba, courtesy of his friend Fidel Castro, with the financial support system in overdrive as Maradona's agent touted more exclusive interviews and photographs to an insatiable posse of hacks. Maradona spoke of himself in the third person, mocking the self-delusion of those who had predicted his imminent demise. "Diego Maradona will only ascend to heaven when all four Beatles are waiting to meet him," he declared.

In 2001, within a year of his rehab in Havana, I witnessed Maradona-- not for the first or last time in his life-- shedding public tears. He was crying with the emotion of knowing there were still enough Argentines around who respected him so much that they couldn't accept anybody else taking his No 10 shirt, even at this point in his life when he was really saying goodbye, again. The shirt, signed by Argentina's class of 2001-- the likes not just of Saviola but of Gabriel Batistuta, Javier Zanetti, Hernan Crespo, Juan Roman Riquelme, Andrew D'Alessandro, Marcelo Gallardo, Pablo Aimar, and Veron-- was handed to Maradona at a testimonial match between an Argentine XI led by himself and a Rest of the World XI, part of which seemed like a rogues gallery-- bad boys, gifted players, legends of the past, men like Carlos Valderrama, Hristo Stoichkov, Eric Cantona and Rene Higuita.

The day of the testimonial Maradona wore his No 10, and waited until a local rock group called The Paranoid Rats finished their dedicatory verse: "I want Diego to play for ever," they sang. He then walked out into La Bombonera, his beloved coliseum, just as he had done on countless occasions before, to the roar of 60,000 fanatical fans, gladiator of the people, sacrificed on the altar of popular adulation, with his two young daughters at his side. The stadium was as steamy and frenetic as a caravan caught up in a desert storm, draped with the blue and yellow colours of Boca and the blue and white of Argentina. The barras bravas packed the terraces. They bounced with joy, chanting "Maradoo, Maradoo" and unfurling a giant banner with the words "Thank You, Diego".

And yet there was no championship at stake this time in La Bombonera. Maradona's enduring self-belief was focused on the uncontested crown as the greatest player that ever graced the turf. The reality check showed that the man trotting across the pitch looked a trifle overweight for his 40 years, at 84 kilos.

There remained in Maradona a desperate unfulfilled need to find a meaning to his life, to recover a sense of purpose, to harness his talent and genius for the game. Back in 1997, just before another descent into drugs, over-eating, and over-drinking, Diego had not only promised to help Boca become great again. He also pledged to help Argentina qualify for the 1998 World Cup in France, with him playing in the national team. It didn't turn out quite that way at the time. The fulfilment of the dream was postponed for another day although the urge for self-justification persisted.

And so Diego is now in South Africa, not as a player but as coach, preparing his squad for a tournament that could turn out to be the crowning achievement of his career, just as it might end up sounding its latest and possibly definitive death knell. Part of me is resisting this latest attempt to draw me back into his unsettling world, with its anarchic unpredictability, too often masquerading as divine intervention.

The late Graham Greene used to claim that he spent half his adult life being haunted by "another Graham Greene", a mysterious man who claimed to be the real him. My experience as Maradona's biographer has been somewhat analogous. A process of osmosis, whereby the biographer absorbed something of his subject, threatened me from the early days of my investigation of Maradona's life and times, playing havoc with my own being and circumstances, in a seemingly never-ending tug-of-war between recollection and renewal that I have struggled with ever since. Argentina's opening match will find me in the US promoting my latest literary catharsis, a book of a discovery about my father being a Second World War spook, called Papa Spy.

My Dad died just as I was finishing the first edition of Hand of God. He seems once again to be competing for my feelings and attention with Diego. For hard as I might wish that I've put the life of Maradona behind me, instinct tells me that at least one further chapter will follow, whatever the outcome this summer.

100 World Cup historical fun facts (part 2)

The rest of a really good list, from the Mirror:

50. The 1974 final was delayed by 10 minutes because officials had forgotten to put in the corner and centre-line flags.

49. Belgian keeper Paul Preud'homme used to wear a shirt of Standard Liege (his first club) under his national jersey during international matches. He had to abandon this tradition in USA because of the heat.

48. The crowd for Romania v Peru at the 1930 finals was a whopping 300.

47. Greeted by a Japanese hostess on arrival at the finals, Ronaldo responded by sticking out his teeth still further and making the 'slitty-eyes' gesture.

46. Ronaldo decided to switch to his 'half-moon' hairstyle in the later stages of the 2002 tournament after he saw his infant son Ronald kissing a picture of Roberto Carlos, apparently believing the diddy defender was his dad.

45. In 2006, Ecuadorian shaman Tzamarenda Naychapi was allowed to "purify" each German stadium by letting out a loud scream to chase away evil spirits.

44. Frank Borghi, America's goalkeeper when they beat England at the 1950 finals, was a baseball player and part-time hearse driver who never learned to kick the ball. He threw the ball to a defender after saves and had a team-mate take goal kicks. Borgi never wore gloves--unlike USA full-back Charlie 'Gloves' Colombo, who always did.

43. BMW gave each competing team a luxury coach to use during the 1974 tournament. Police had to reclaim Zaire's after the team left their hotel in it, intending to drive it home to Africa

42. Italian FA chief Dr Ottorino Barassi was so worried that the German army might steal the Jules Rimet trophy that he kept it under his bed in a shoebox for the duration of the 1934 tournament.

41. Belgium's Jean Langenus reffed the 1930 Argentina v Uruguay final wearing plus fours, a tie and a deerstalker hat.

40. When Juan Hohberg scored a late equaliser for Uruguay against Hungary in 1954, he was jumped on by delighted team-mates. When they got up they discovered Hohberg had passed out.

39. United Arab Emirates players received a Rolls Royce for every goal their team scored at the 1990 finals. The UAE managed two in three defeats.

38. The string in Italy captain Peppino Meazza's shorts broke just before he took a vital penalty in the 1938 semi-final against Brazil. He took the kick while holding them up, then let them drop as he was mobbed by delighted team-mates.

37. During the 1938 finals, Brazil's Leonidas attempted to remove his boots and play in bare feet during a game against Poland held on a muddy pitch in Strasbourg. The ref ordered him to put them back on and the striker subsequently scored four goals as Brazil won 6-5.

36. India pulled out of the 1950 finals partly because of financial problems but also because they were not allowed to play in bare feet.

35. Scotland wore thick wool jerseys with long sleeves and buttoned collars for their match against Uruguay at the 1954 finals. Unfortunately, the temperature was in the 30s. Said midfielder Tommy Docherty: "The Scottish FA assumed Switzerland was cold because it had mountains. The Uruguayans wore light V-necked shirts with short sleeves. We lost 7-0."

34. K'naan's Wavin' Flag, the official tournament song, has had its lyrics rewritten after the original words described South Africa as a “violence-prone poor people zone.”

33. A German newspaper sent a squad of attractive women to the Dutch team hotel before the 1974 final, leading to a story headlined 'Cruyff, Champagne, Naked Girls And A Cool Bath'.

32. African cultural association The Makhonya Royal Trust has backed a plan to sacrifice a cow in each of the new World Cup stadia before they are officially opened. Said chairman Zolani Mkiva: "We must have a cultural ceremony of some sort, where we are going to slaughter a beast. We sacrifice the cow for this great achievement and we call on our ancestors to bless, to grace, to ensure that all goes well.”

31. On the way home from the 2002 finals, the Senegal side stopped off for a diplomatic visit in Taiwan, where it is said players were ministered to by 37 different call girls.

30. The Senegalese also outraged locals by wearing T-shirts and flip flops for what had been advertised as a full exhibition match against the hosts. The game lasted 15 minutes.

29. Alex Villaplane, France's captain at the 1930 finals, was imprisoned in 1935 for fixing horse races and later became a gold smuggler. He joined the French Gestapo during the Nazi occupation and, after the liberation, was shot as a traitor.

28. Romanian goal machine Gheorghe Hagi was a fully-qualified dentist.

27. American physio Jack Coll was knocked unconscious during the 1930 semi-final against Argentina when he ran onto the field to treat an injured player, dropped his bag next to the stricken Yank and was overcome by the fumes from a bottle of chloroform which had broken inside.

26. The great Soviet keeper Lev Yashin's pre-match routine was "have a smoke to calm your nerves, then toss back a strong drink to tone your muscles."

25. Japan's Shunsuke Nakamura or "Super Naka" is possibly the only player at the World Cup with an asteroid named in his honour (29986 Shunsuke for telescope enthusiasts).

24. Argentina's bruising Luisito Monti received death threats before he faced home side Uruguay in the 1930 final. Team-mates said the hard man was so badly shaken he even helped an opponent up after fouling him--which he had never done before.

23. Despite having its own award-winning vineyard, Fish Hoek near Cape Town--the home town of Matthew Booth, South Africa's bald, white, 6-foot-6 defender--had a ban on alcohol until 1994.

22. The Greek national anthem is a 158-verse poem set to music. Alas, only the first two verses are sung.

21. Russian striker Sergei Yuran was linked with Arsenal before the 1994 finals. Alas, he was sent home for a breach of team discipline and later signed for Millwall.

20. With France trailing Mexico 1-0 in their second game of the 1930 World Cup finals, referee Almeida Rego blew up for full time with a French forward clear through on goal and six minutes remaining on the clock.

19. Romania's 1930 squad was personally selected by King Carol II.

18. Brothers Victor and Vyacheslav Chanov battled each other to be the Soviet Union's goalkeeper at the 1982 finals. Both went to Spain, but neither played - they were second- and third-string to Rinat Dassajev.

17. Cameroon's team hotel at the 2010 finals is called The Oyster Box.

16. The Japanese squad list goes from 3 to 5 as the number 4 is considered unlucky in the country. Four is pronouced "shi" which is the same as "death."

15. After his brilliant blunder in 2006, former referee Graham Poll begins his after-dinner speeches with the words: "Good evening, I'm the prat who gave one bloke three yellow cards at the World Cup."

14. After losing 9-0 to Yugoslavia in the 1974 finals, Zaire players were threatened by President Mobutu’s guards and told that they could not return home if they lost to Brazil by a score of 4-0 or worse. Luckily, they kept it to 3-0.

13. Argentina's opening match in the 1930 tournament was watched by only 18,000 because supporters arriving by sea to Montevideo found the port so fogbound that eight of their 10 ships did not make it to land before their match had finished.

12. A mugger who stole Eva Standmann's handbag before the Brazil-Australia game in Munich four years ago found her ticket inside and decided to enjoy the game. Unfortunately, he sat in Eva's seat, next to her husband Berndt, who had him arrested.

11. The story of Scotland winger Willie Johnstone's positive drug test at the 1978 finals was broken on live TV by young reporter Trevor McDonald.

10. Not only did Diana Ross miss her penalty at the opening ceremony of USA 94, but hostess Oprah Winfrey fell off the stage.

9. In April 2010, prisoners at Castro-Castro prison in Lima, Peru, staged their own World Cup-- including an opening ceremony in which inmates danced for several hours.

8. After Ireland were beaten by Italy in 1990, then-Prime Minister Charles Haughey visited the dressing room. Niall Quinn remembered: "Those of us brought up in Ireland stood there in amazement as he made a speech about sporting sons of Ireland. It was totally hair standing up on the back of the neck stuff. But not everyone was from Ireland. Tony Cascarino was behind me and said loudly: 'Who the f*** is that?', ruining the moment. I said: 'that's the Taoiseach'. Andy Townsend was beside him and said loudly again: 'Who is it, Cas?' And he said: 'Dunno. Quinny said he owns a tea shop.'"

7. Garrincha, Brazil's World Cup hero of 1968 and 1962, lost his virginity at age 12. To a goat. He went on to father 14 children.

6. During the 1954 'Battle Of Berne' between Brazil and Hungary, English ref Arthur Ellis dismissed three players, including Joseph Bozsik, who was also a Hungarian MP. During the match a Brazilian player was struck on the head by a bottle thrown from the Hungarian bench, allegedly by legend Ferenc Puskas. Ellis later spent 18 years as the referee on BBC TV's It's A Knockout.

5. Yugoslavia's Rajko Mitic failed to make the kick-off of their 1950 match against hosts Brazil in Rio because he had run into an iron girder in the players' tunnel. He emerged 20 minutes later, his head bandaged, with his team already a goal down.

4. Juergen Sparwasser, who scored East Germany's winning goal over the West in a 1974 finals match which would be the only meeting between the sides, was forbidden to join the team celebration as Communist leaders feared a photo of him celebrating in Munich would be damaging to national morale. He defected to the West in 1988.

3. The Jabulani ball which will be used at the tournament has been advertised as the "roundest-ever ball"

2. After Scotland's disastrous start to the 1978 tournament Ally McLeod had told supporters they would win, the manager was holding a press conference in his Cordoba hotel when a small dog ran up to him, and the manager reached down to pat the stray. "This little fellow is my last friend in the world," he said mournfully. The dog bit him.

1. The 1990 'art' film Cicciolina And Moana At The World Cup features two porn stars who sleep their way through the opposition, tiring out star performers like thinly-disguised versions of Jurgen Klinsmann and Diego Maradona and enabling Italy to win. The Ruud Gullit lookalike in the movie was a big lad.

100 World Cup historical fun facts (part 1)

A great list and a great read, from the Mirror newspaper:

100. Heat at the 1954 game between Austria and Switzerland was so intense that one player got hyperthemia - the opposite of hypothermia - while another became disoriented and wandered off the pitch during the game, at one point being seen 'defending' while standing behind his own goal.

99. Of the 154 players to have represented Bulgaria at the World Cup finals, only two did not have a surname that ended in the letter v.

98. Mwepu Ilunga, the Zaire defender who famously broke from his team's defensive wall to boot away the ball before Rivelino could take a free-kick during their 1974 finals match, shouldn't have been playing in the game at all. Striker Mulumba Ndaye was sent off in the previous game against Yugoslavia for a foul committed by Mwepu. He said: "I panicked and kicked the ball away before he had taken it. Most of the Brazil players, and the crowd too, thought it was hilarious. I shouted, 'You bastards!' at them because they didn't understand the pressure we were under."

97. ITV producer John Bromley and sidekick Jimmy Hill invented the football panel ahead of the 1970 World Cup, hiring controversial pundits like Malcolm Allison, Derek Dougan and Pat Crerand. Panelists were sequestered at a Hertfordshire hotel and woken every morning with a bottle of champagne. Handed Allison's room service bill by a worried manager after the first week, Bromley contended that it was "not nearly high enough" and doubled the bubbly order.

96. Italy broke the World Cup soon after receiving it in 2006. A large piece of the green malachite which surrounds the base was chipped off during their wild celebrations.

95. Peru's players are claimed to have received $50,000 per man to throw their 1978 game against Argentina, which the hosts had to win by four clear goals. The Peruvian FA is said to have received $10m, while the country also received a $100m consignment of wheat. The match finished 6-0. 94. A search of the crowd before the 1930 World Cup final uncovered 1,500 revolvers.

93. Spain keeper Santiago Canizares was ruled out of the 2002 World Cup finals in May of that year, when the first-choice stopper dropped a bottle of aftershave in his hotel bathroom and a shard of glass cut the tendon in his big toe. "I do not consider myself to be unlucky by any manner of means," Canizares said.

92. Cameroon legend Roger Milla is said to have been arrested in 1992 after his plan to organise a Pygmy World Cup drew only a handful of spectators to the country's 50,000-seat Omnisports Stadium. By the third day, the disgruntled little folk, from local rain forests, were complaining about being locked in a guarded room underneath the ground with only one meal of rice and sauce in 72 hours. Said a spokeman: "You don't know the pygmies. They are extremely difficult to control. They play better if they don't eat too much," argued the spokesman."

91. Frenchman Lucien Laurent, who scored the first goal at the inaugural World Cup finals, was a prisoner of the Nazis during World War II. After the liberation he discovered they had looted a furniture depository in Strasbourg where he had stored memorabilia including his 1930 World Cup jersey.

90. Win a World Cup and you're almost certain to be asked to write an autobiography. Paolo Rossi, whose hat-trick knocked our the favourites in 1982, later penned I Made Brazil Cry , Maradona's was I Am The Diego while Alan Ball's effort was the cleverly titled It's All About A Ball .

89. Three key figures in the 1966 theft and recovery of the World Cup were killed by the 'Curse Of The Jules Rimet Trophy'. Edward Betchley, who supposedly stole it, died of emphysema in 1969, shortly after completing a two-year jail term for demanding money with menaces. Joe Mears, the FA chairman who conducted negotiations with Betchley, to try to get the trophy back, didn't even see England lift it--he died of an angina attack ten days before the finals started. And Pickles, the mongrel who recovered it from a hedge, died in 1967, strangling himself with his lead as he attempted to chase a cat up a tree.

88. West Germany's Paul Breitner organised a strike at the 1974 finals, urging his team-mates to refuse to play unless they were guaranteed a 100,000 Deutschmark bonus each for winning the trophy. The left-back was politically a left-winger who was once photographed seated in a rocking chair beneath a poster of Mao Tse-Tung, while leafing through a Chinese communist newspaper.

87. Matthias Sindelar, remembered as the greatest footballer in Austrian history, was asked to play for Germany at the 1938 finals because his country had been annexed by the Nazis. He refused, and a year later he and his girlfriend were found dead in bed, with carbon monoxide poisoning blamed. Some say they were murdered, some they they committed suicide, while others simply blame a defective chimney.

86. U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jnr wrote Ireland's 1990 World Cup record, Put 'Em Under Pressure .

85. During the 2002 World Cup, commentator John Motson became obsessed with the fact that most of the matches were being played at breakfast time in the UK. “You can have your breakfast with Batistuta and your cornflakes with Crespo," he informed the nation, later telling us there was "just one minute of overtime, so you can put the eggs on now if you like" and adding: “I can confirm that Trevor Brooking did have his own eggs and bacon before setting off this morning.” When David Beckham scored against Argentina, he told viewers to "smash your cups and saucers if you like".

84. When Brazil surprisingly lost the 1950 final to Uruguay at their own Maracana Stadium, two fans committed suicide by jumping off a stand.

83. Pickles, the black and white mongrel who found the Jules Rimet Trophy when it was stolen before the 1966 World Cup final, later starred alongside Eric Sykes and June Whitfield in the film The Spy With the Cold Nose . He shared an agent with Sykes and Spike Milligan.

82. The Jules Rimet Trophy, which Brazil got to keep after winning the World Cup for a third time in 1970, was stolen in 1983 from their FA's headquarters in Rio and melted down for its 3kg of solid gold.

81. Holland great Johan Cruyff missed the 1978 finals, with the Dutch FA originally claiming it was down to his distaste for the junta in Argentina. But 30 years later it was revealed Cruyff had pulled out because of worries over family security following a kidnap attempt. He said: "Someone had a rifle at my head and tied me up and tied up my wife in front of the children at our flat in Barcelona."

80. The Falkands War was still ongoing as the 1982 finals opened and when birds were released at the end of the opening ceremony, Irish TV commentator Jimmy Magee hailed, "The symbol of peace... the pigeon."

79. Drug-snorting, hand-balling, cigar-puffing, Castro-worshipping, ephedrine-taking wild man Diego Maradona's original nickname was... 'Fluffy'.

78. While South Africa are nicknamed Bafana Bafana (The Boys), the South African women's team is known as Banyana Banyana (The Girls). The Under-21 men's team, however, is called Amaglug-glug, because they are sponsored by a petrol firm.

77. Denmark are nicknamed Olsens Elleve - Olsen’s Eleven - after coach Morten Olsen.

76. Argentina introduced ticker tape to the finals in 1978 and four years later their FA brought crates of the stuff to Spain in support of their country's efforts in the Falkands War. One side bore a Spanish flag with the message 'Gracias Espana', while the other showed Argentinean blue and white with the legend 'Las Malvinas Son Argentinas'.

75. Brazil's legendary midfielder Socrates, who was a medical doctor despite smoking 20 cigarettes a day, was another left-winger. He listed his heroes as Che and Fidel Castro.

74. Chain-smoking coach Cesar Luis Menotti, who led Argentina to World Cup glory in 1978, was befriended by the country's military leaders despite being a Communist whose home was decorated with a framed picture of Che Guevara.

73. Mexico coach Ricardo Lavolpe was warned by FIFA during the 2006 World Cup after cameras caught him chain-smoking in the dugout. The former Argentine international had a magnificent tournament, calling journalists "f***ing idiots" and spending much of his time at the team's training sessions eating doughnuts under a roped-off parasol.

72. South Africa's Nazareth Baptist Church have threatened to sue FIFA if they allow fans to play vuvuzelas - the African horns - at the World Cup. They claim they have a copyright on the 'holy' instrument.

71. Franz Beckenbauer returned from the 1966 World Cup as a teen sensation and had a hit single in West Germany, Gute Freunde Kann Niemand Trennen - Good Friends Can't Be Separated.

70. Prevented from going on the field by a FIFA official during Ireland's defeat to Mexico at USA 94, John Aldridge responded with a magnificent verbal tirade picked up by the off-field microphones. The hapless suit--clad in yellow baseball hat and light blue jacket--was told: "F*** off, you. F*** off. You t**t. You d***head. W****r. You f*****g cheat."

69. The preliminaries at the 1930 final included two coin-tosses--one for ends and one to decide which ball should be used as both Argentina and Uruguay had brought their own. The Argentines won but Uruguay still used their own for the second half--and overturned a 2-1 deficit to win 4-2.

68. As he prepared to take the kick-off in a match at Mexico 70, Pele gestured to the referee that he needed to tie his laces. The camera panned in and the world got a glimpse of his new Puma Pele boots, giving the company a huge sales boost. It might just have been deliberate ...

67. During Italia 90, Irish manager Jack Charlton fell asleep during an audience with the Pope. He said: "The Pope had his hand in the air and as I woke up I thought he was waving at me so I stood up and waved back."

66. Before the 2002 finals, Swedish TV aired an hour-long documentary claiming that the 1958 finals had not been held in the country but in fact had been a hoax cooked up by the American government as Cold War propaganda. Conspiracy '58 contained interviews with Swedish players of the era admitting their matches had been stitched together from old footage--but was itself, of course, a hoax.

65. Before the 1938 final, Mussolini sent Italy's team a telegram reading 'Win Or Die'. News of this so upset their opponents that after losing 4-1, Czech keeper Antal Szabó said: "At least I saved some lives". But the phrase was common in Italy at the time and was the rough equivalent of 'win or bust'.

64. Swedish referee Ivan Eklind infuriated opponents Czecholslovakia by visiting Italian dictator Benito Mussolini in his box before the 1938 final.

63. In 2006, Jimmy Armfield told BBC viewers: "There's a real international flavour to this World Cup."

62. David Coleman prefaced BBC highlights of the 1962 'Battle of Santigao' between Italy and Chile with the words: "Good evening. The game you are about to see is the most stupid, appalling, disgusting and disgraceful exhibition of football, possibly in the history of the game."

61. Chilean coach Marco Bielsa, known as El Loco--The Madman--once gave a four-hour press conference.

60. Uruguay's 2-1 win over France at the 1966 World Cup was played at White City Stadium, Shepherd's Bush, because Wembley was already booked for a greyhound race night.

59. The New York Times refused to report that the USA had beaten England 1-0 at the 1950 World Cup because editors believed the scoreline was a hoax.

58. Chile's utility defender, who has been linked with a move to Wigan, is called Waldo Ponce.

57. The Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia) side which appeared at the 1938 finals was captained by a doctor, Acmad Nawir, who wore glasses during the games.

56. Uruguay were sequestered in a hideaway for eight weeks before the 1930 finals. Keeper Antonio Mazzali was caught sneaking out to see his family and was kicked out of the squad.

55. Hector Castro, who scored the winner in the 1930 World Cup final, accidentally cut off his right arm with an electric saw when he was 13. He was known as El Manco--The Maimed.

54. The top scorer in 1938, the Brazilian Leonidas, became a private detective after retiring.

53. Switzerland centre-forward Poldi Kielholz scored three goals in two matches at the 1934 finals despite keeping his spectacles on during matches.

52. The opening match of the 1966 tournament, against Uruguay, was delayed because seven England players had left their FIFA registration cards back at the team hotel. A police motorcyclist was sent to get them.

51. After Brazil paraded the Jules Rimet trophy following the 1970 final, a young supporter snatched the lid and ran. He was apprehended near the stadium exit by sub Davio.