1986
The World Cup finals were the big bang of the year, of course, but there was more. The usual expectations of the World Cup were not fulfilled: it was lively tournament, but without any revolutionary changes. There was even a step back, because in the effort of finding some sufficient way to beat the mechanic competence of so many, by now, teams, some looked at defensive tactics – the prime example was Argentina. This was also the last chance for the greatest stars of the last 10 years to concur the world’s top and they failed – Zico, Socrates, Falcao, Rummenigge, Magath, Platini, Tigana, Giresse, Blokhin, Camacho, Wilkins, Morten Olsen, Simonsen, Boniek, Gomes, Pfaff, Vercauteren, Ceulemans, Gerets. Unlike the great players of the past, those achieved little at the world finals, none becoming world champion. There was also a strong impression that many a coach was afraid of risks and ultimately preferred to use veterans, but in the same time it was very little to suggest as alternatives , for even the greatest football countries in the world had limited options, especially among the younger generation. It was one thing a small country with traditionally small pool of players to use veterans, but when Brazil and West Germany kept over the hill veterans… the future was not looking bright. And when dull, mechanic West Germany was continuously winning, than the future was looking even darker. The game was curiously retreating – the answer to competent, war-like and robotic football was one-man show. Find a solitary magician, surround him with defenders, and he can beat unimaginative robots – this was right from the 1960s, but Argentina succeeded. Yes, there were a plethora of tactics tried at the finals – 4-3-3, 4-4-2, 3-5-2, 4-5-1 – but none was revolutionary and innovations were more like desperate attempts to break matching team giving no chances. Well established, but already old tactics worked best – those, using libero. On the positive side counted the improvement of previously weaker teams to the point of the disappearance of outsiders. Perhaps for the very first time there was no laughably weak team – but this was double edged observation: yes, the weaker were getting competent, but the traditionally strong teams were getting weaker.
Behind the World Cup other things took place this year – perhaps the African Championship was most important. Still invisible, but arguably African football came of age this year. In the past, the teams reaching the World Cup finals dominated the African scene at least at that moment. But this year was different, suggesting that more than two or three African teams were strong. There was massive improvement of the game and most importantly there were no more meteoric teams – the best stayed strong year after year. There were not just Morocco and Algeria, but also Egypt, Cameroon, Ghana. Africa clearly left the romantic undeveloped stage and was rapidly catching-up with Europe and South America.
This was also the first year without English clubs in the European tournaments. How fair was the punishment depends on stand point, but it should be questioned nevertheless: on one hand, hooliganism was spilling over in Europe and beyond and was no longer just English ugly phenomenon. The suspension of the English clubs did not stop hooliganism at all. On the other hand how wise was to banish the most successful clubs? Since the beginning of the European club tournaments English clubs appeared at 33 finals, winning 22 of them. English teams won the Champions Cup 6 years in a row and Fairs Cup/UEFA Cup 6 consecutive years. Finals with English participant were usually more attractive and interesting to watch. From this angle it looked like UEFA was artificially cutting off the strongest and promoting dull football. And that at time when no other country dominated on club level – the West German dominance ended, the Spanish and Italian ones were long gone already. Not that dominance itself was a great thing, but it was like stepping down – no particular leading ‘school’, rather occasional spurts of greatness here and there, quickly extinguished.
At the end, no wonder ‘The hand of God’ became the everlasting emblem of 1986. It was a shameful moment no matter how one looks at it, a loud and clear commentary of the state of football at the time. Football was firmly established as war and everything was ‘fair’ in order to win. Talent itself had little to do with success, although it was there – after Maradona shamelessly scored with his hand, he displayed pure magic and scored his second goal. A brilliant goal, leaving everybody perplexed – a villain, but also a magician. Atrocity and greatness go hand in hand and the current star player was equally proud of both. Whatever for a win. Players in the past made blunders and were hardly angels; referees made mistakes, deliberately or not, but there was something new – in the past nobody was proud of their mistakes and faults. Now… it was ‘the hand of God’ and the current player took pride of his vile acts, if succeeding by them. Football lost the last remains of decency in particularly wicked way: just when one wants to blame Maradona, he produces something fantastically beautiful – and leaves us with both, neither hero, nor criminal, but both in the same time. Moral judgment stumbles and fails.
