Soccer in Sun and Shadow

The 1970 World Cup

In Prague cinema puppet master Jiří Trnka was dying; so was Bertrand Russell in London, after nearly a century of very lively living. After only twenty years, the poet Rugama was dying too, in Managua, fighting alone against a battalion from the Somoza dictatorship. The world was losing its music: the Beatles were breaking up thanks to an overdose of success, and thanks to an overdose of drugs guitarist Jimi Hendrix and singer Janis Joplin were also taking their leave.

A hurricane was ripping through Pakistan and an earthquake was wiping out fifteen cities in the Peruvian Andes. In Washington, though no one believed in the Vietnam War anymore, it kept dragging on, with the death toll reaching one million according to the Pentagon, and the generals fleeing forward by invading Cambodia. After losing in three previous attempts, Allende was launching another campaign for the presidency of Chile, promising milk for every child and nationalization of the nation’s copper. Well-informed sources in Miami were announcing the imminent fall of Fidel Castro, it was only a matter of hours. For the first time in history, the Vatican was on strike. While employees of the Holy Father in Rome were crossing their arms, in Mexico players from sixteen countries were moving their legs and the ninth World Cup got under way.

Nine teams from Europe, five from the Americas, plus Israel and Morocco took part. In the first match, the referee raised a yellow card for the first time. The yellow card, sign of warning, and the red card, sign of expulsion, were not the only novelties at the Mexico World Cup. The rules now allowed for two substitutions during the course of each match. Before, only the goalkeeper could be replaced in case of injury, and it was never very hard to reduce the adversary’s numbers with a few well-placed kicks.

Images of the 1970 World Cup: the impression left by Beckenbauer as he battled to the final minute with one arm in a sling; the fervor of Tostão, fresh from an eye operation and managing a sure-footed performance in every match; the aerobatics of Pelé in his final World Cup: “We jumped together,” said Burgnich, the Italian defender who marked him, “but when I landed, I could see Pelé was still floating in the air.”

Four world champions — Brazil, Italy, West Germany, and Uruguay — faced off in the semifinals. Germany took third place, Uruguay fourth. In the final, Brazil astonished Italy 4–1. The British press commented, “Such beautiful soccer ought to be outlawed.” People stand up to tell the story of the final goal: the ball traveled through all Brazil, each of the eleven players touched it, and at last Pelé, without even looking, laid it out on a silver platter for Carlos Alberto coming in like a tornado to make the kill.

“Torpedo” Müller from Germany led the list of scorers with ten, followed by the Brazilian Jairzinho with seven.

Undefeated champions for the third time, Brazil kept the Rimet Cup for good. At the end of 1983 the cup was stolen and sold after being melted down to nearly two kilos of pure gold. In the display case, a replica stands in its place.