Soccer in Sun and Shadow

The 1962 World Cup

A few Indian and Malaysian astrologists were predicting the end of the world, but it kept on turning, and as it turned an organization with the name of Amnesty International was born and Algeria took its first steps of independent life after more than seven years of war against France. In Israel the Nazi criminal Adolf Eichmann was being hanged, the miners of Asturias were on strike, and Pope John was trying to change the Church and return it to the poor. They were making the first computer disks and performing the first operations with laser beams, and Marilyn Monroe was losing her will to live.

What was the price of a country’s vote? Haiti sold its franchise for $15 million, a highway, a dam, and a hospital, and that’s how the OAS got a majority to expel Cuba, the black sheep of Pan-Americanism. Well-informed sources in Miami were announcing the imminent fall of Fidel Castro, it was only a matter of hours. Seventy-five suits were being launched in U.S. courts to ban the novel Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller, published for the first time in an unexpurgated edition. Linus Pauling, who was about to win his second Nobel Prize, was picketing the White House to protest nuclear testing, while Benny “The Kid” Paret, an illiterate black Cuban, was dying, beaten to a pulp, in the ring at Madison Square Garden.

In Memphis Elvis Presley was announcing his retirement after selling 300 million records, but before long he changed his mind, while in London a record company, Decca, was refusing to record the songs of a group of hairy musicians who called themselves The Beatles. Carpentier was publishing Explosion in the Cathedral, Gelman was publishing Gotán, the Argentine military were overthrowing President Frondizi, and the Brazilian painter Cândido Portinari was dying. Primeiras estórias by Guimarães Rosa was in the bookstores, as were the poems that Vinícius de Moraes wrote para viver um grande amor. João Gilberto was crooning “One Note Samba” in Carnegie Hall, while the Brazilian soccer team was landing in Chile, expecting to win the seventh World Cup against five other countries from the Americas and ten from Europe.

Luck was not with Di Stéfano in the ’62 World Cup. He was going to play for his adopted country, Spain. At thirty-six this would be his last opportunity. Just before the opening match, he hurt his right knee and there was no way he could play. Di Stéfano, “The Blond Arrow,” one of the best players in the history of soccer, never played in a World Cup. Pelé, another all-time star, did not get far in Chile either: he pulled a muscle early on and could not play. And one more sacred giant of soccer, the Russian Yashin, also turned into a lame duck: the best goalkeeper in the world let in four goals by Colombia, because, it seems, he bucked himself up with a few too many nips in the dressing room.

Brazil won the tournament without Pelé and under Didi’s charge. Amarildo sparkled in the difficult role of filling Pelé’s shoes, Djalma Santos made himself into a wall on defense, and up front Garrincha was inspired and inspiring. “What planet is Garrincha from?” asked the daily El Mercurio, when Brazil liquidated the home team. The Chileans had beaten Italy in a match that was a pitched battle, and they also beat Switzerland and the Soviet Union. They gobbled up the spaghetti, chocolate, and vodka, but choked on the coffee: Brazil won 4–2.

In the final, Brazil downed Czechoslovakia 3–1 and, just as in ’58, was the undefeated champion. For the very first time the World Cup final was broadcast live internationally on television, although in black and white and only to a few countries.

Chile won third place, its best ranking ever, and Yugoslavia won fourth thanks to a bird named Dragoslav Sekularac whom no defender could catch.

The championship did not have a leading scorer, but several players notched up four goals: Garrincha and Vavá of Brazil, Sánchez of Chile, Jerkovic of Yugoslavia, Albert of Hungary, and Ivanov of the Soviet Union.