Soccer in Sun and Shadow

The 1978 World Cup

In Germany the popular Volkswagen Beetle was dying, in England the first test tube baby was being born, in Italy abortion was being legalized. The first victims of AIDS, a disease not yet called that, were succumbing. The Red Brigades were killing Aldo Moro, and the United States was promising to give Panama back the canal it had stolen at the beginning of the century. Well-informed sources in Miami were announcing the imminent fall of Fidel Castro, it was only a matter of hours. In Nicaragua the Somoza dynasty was teetering, as was the Shah’s in Iran. The Guatemalan military was machine-gunning a crowd of peasants in the town of Panzós. Domitila Barrios and four other women from tin-mining communities were launching a hunger strike against Bolivia’s military dictatorship, and soon all Bolivia would be on a hunger strike: the dictatorship was falling. The Argentine military dictatorship, in contrast, was enjoying good health and, to prove it, was playing host to the eleventh World Cup.

Ten European countries, four from the Americas, plus Iran and Tunisia took part. The Pope sent his blessings from Rome. To the strains of a military march, General Videla pinned a medal on Havelange during the opening ceremonies in Buenos Aires’s Monumental Stadium. A few steps away, Argentina’s Auschwitz, the torture and extermination camp at the Navy School of Mechanics, was operating at full speed. A few miles beyond that, prisoners were being thrown alive from airplanes into the sea.

“At last the world can see the true face of Argentina,” crowed the president of FIFA to the TV cameras. Special guest Henry Kissinger predicted, “This country has a great future in all ways.” And the captain of the German team, Berti Vogts, who made the first kickoff, declared a few days later, “Argentina is a country where order reigns. I haven’t seen a single political prisoner.”

The home team won a few matches, but lost to Italy and drew with Brazil. To reach the final against the Netherlands, they had to drown Peru in a flood of goals. Argentina got more than they needed, but the massacre, 6–0, sowed doubt among skeptical fans and magnanimous ones alike. The Peruvians were stoned on their return to Lima.

The final between Argentina and the Netherlands was decided in extra time. The Argentines won 3–1 and in a way their victory was due to the patriotism of the post that saved the Argentine net in injury time. That post, which stopped a resounding blast by Rensenbrink, was never given military honors only because of the nature of human ingratitude. In any case, more important than the post, as it turned out, were the goals of Mario Kempes, an unbreakable bronco who liked to gallop over the grass carpeted in a snowfall of confetti, his shaggy mane flying in the wind.

When they handed out the trophies, the Dutch players refused to salute the leaders of the Argentine dictatorship. Third place went to Brazil, fourth to Italy.

Kempes was voted best player in the Cup and was also the leading scorer with six goals. Behind him came the Peruvian Cubillas and Rensenbrink of the Netherlands with five apiece.