Group C.
10.06.90 (21.00) Turin, Stadio Delle Alpi
BRA – SWE 2:1 (1:0)
(+62000) Lanese ITA, Jonini TUN, Vautrot FRA
BRA: Taffarel – Jorginho, Ricardo Gomes (c), Branco, Mozer – Mauro Galvão,
Dunga, Alemão, Valdo (88 Silas) – Careca, Müller
SWE: Ravelli – R.Nilsson (c), Larsson, Ljung (70 Strömberg), Schwarz –
Ingesson, Limpar, J.Nilsson, Thern – Brolin, Magnusson (46 Pettersson)
1:0 Careca 40, 2:0 Careca 63, 2:1 Brolin 79
booked: Mozer, Branco, Dunga / J.Nilsson
11.06.90 (17.00) Genoa, Stadio Luigi Ferraris
COS – SCO 1:0 (0:0)
(-31000) Loustau ARG, Jacome ECU, Mactet FRA
COS: Conejo – Flores (c), Gonzalez, Montero, Chavez – Chavarria, Ramirez,
Gómez, Cayasso – Marchena, C.Jara (87 Medford)
SCO: Leighton – Gough (46 McKimmie), McLeish, McPherson, Malpas – Aitken (c),
McStay, Bett (74 McCoist), McCall – Johnston, McInally
1:0 Cayasso 49
16.06.90 (17.00) Turin, Stadio Delle Alpi
BRA – COS 1:0 (1:0)
(+58000)
Jouini TUN, Mandi BHR, Diramba GAB
BRA: Taffarel – Jorginho, Ricardo Gomes (c), Branco, Mozer – Mauro Galvão,
Dunga, Alemão, Valdo (87 Silas) – Careca (84 Bebeto), Müller
COS: Conejo – Flores (c), Gonzalez, Montero, Chavez – Chavarria, Ramirez,
Gómez, Cayasso (78 Guimaráes) – Marchena, C.Jara (71 Myers)
1:0 Müller 33
booked: Jorginho, Mozer / C.Jara, Gómez
16.06.90 (21.00) Genoa, Stadio Luigi Ferraris
SCO – SWE 2:1 (1:0)
(-32000) Maciel PAR, Listkiewicz POL, Mauro USA
SCO: Leighton – Levein, MacLeod, McLeish, McPherson – Malpas, Aitken (c),
Durie (76 McStay), McCall – Johnston, Fleck (85 McCoist)
SWE: Ravelli – R.Nilsson, Larsson (76 Strömberg), Hysen (c), Schwarz –
Ingesson, Limpar, J.Nilsson, Thern – Brolin, Pettersson (53 Ekström)
1:0 McCall 10, 2:0 Johnston 80 p, 2:1 Strömberg 86
booked: McPherson / Thern
20.06.90 (21.00) Genoa, Stadio Luigi Ferraris
COS – SWE 2:1 (0:1)
(~30233) Petrović JUG, Courtney ENG, Snoddy NIR
COS: Conejo – Flores (c), González, Montero, Chavez – Chavarria
(76 Guimaráes), Ramirez, Gómez (60 Medford), Cayasso – Marchena, C.Jara
SWE: Ravelli – R.Nilsson, Larsson, Hysen (c) – Schwarz, Strömberg
(83 Enqvist), Ingesson, J.Nilsson, Pettersson – Brolin (34 Gren), Ekström
0:1 Ekström 32, 1:1 Flores 75 h, 2:1 Medford 88
booked: Gómez, Marchena / Strömberg, Schwarz
20.06.90 (21.00) Turin, Stadio Delle Alpi
BRA – SCO 1:0 (0:0)
(+62000) Kohl AUT, Kirschen GER, Listkiewicz POL
BRA: Taffarel – Jorginho, Ricardo Gomes (c), Branco, Ricardo Rocha – Mauro
Galvão, Dunga, Alemão, Valdo – Careca, Romario (66 Müller)
SCO: Leighton – McKimmie, MacLeod (39 Gillespie), McLeish, McPherson –
Malpas, Aitken (c), McStay, McCall – Johnston, McCoist (79 Fleck)
1:0 Müller 82
booked: Johnston, McLeod
1. BRA^ 3 3 0 0 6 4-1
2. COS^ 3 2 0 1 4 3-2
3. SCO 3 1 0 2 2 2-3
4. SWE 3 0 0 3 0 3-6
As expected, Brazil won the group. They won all games and compared to other teams played quite well, yet… not just at home the team was criticized and rightly so. The match against Costa Rica was particularly alarming: the outsider was pretty much equal to to mighty Brazil. Brazil struggled in all group games. Costa Rica was a big surprise – journalists practically laughed at the optimistic words of Bora Milutinovic at first, but his team played competent football, making life difficult even for Brazil. The debutantes already achieved more than hoping for and nobody laughed at Milutinovic any more, when cautiously he said that who knows, his may go even beyond the next round. Scotland missed the boat as usual… the game against Costa Rica was largely blamed for the failure: the team seemingly underestimated the outsiders. After that… it was too late. Scotland fought well and went home early, as usual. Sweden lost all their games and ended last, but it is difficult to consider them a big failure – true, the team considered by many the best ever Swedish selection was unable to get even one point, but it played quite well. May be unlucky… there were some players which made good impression. At least back at home nobody was going crazy over the early exit and even the coach was not fired.
Against Sweden – Top, left to right: Cláudio André Mergen ‘Taffarel’, Mauro Geraldo Galvão, ‘Ricardo’ Raimundo Gomes , José Carlos Nepomuceno ‘Mozer’, Jorge de Amorim Campos ‘Jorginho’ , Cláudio Ibrahim Vaz Leal ‘Branco’ , Bottom, left to right: Luís Antônio Corrêa da Costa ‘Müller’, Ricardo Rogério de Brito ‘Alemão’, Antônio de Oliveira Filho ‘Careca’ , Carlos Caetano Bledorn Verri ‘Dunga’, ’Valdo’
Head coach: Sebastião Lazaroni
Head coach: Olle Nordin
Against Sweden: Top, left to right: Maurice Daniel Robert Malpas, Craig William Levein, James Leighton, David McPherson, Alexander McLeish, Bottom, left to right: Andrew Stuart Murray ‘Stuart’ McCall, Robert Sime ‘Roy’ Aitken, Gordon Scott Durie, Murdo Davidson MacLeod , Maurice Johnston, Robert William Fleck
Head coach: Andy Roxburgh
Head coach: Bora Milutinović
08.06.90 (18.00) Milano, Stadio Giuseppe Meazza (San Siro)
09.06.90 (17.00) Bari, Stadio San Nicola
13.06.90 (21.00) Napoli, Stadio San Paolo
18.06.90 (21.00) Napoli, Stadio San Paolo
USSR vs Argentina – crouching from left: O. Kuznetzov, A. Zygmantovich, I. Dobrovolsky, A. Zavarov, O. Protassov. Standing: A. Uvarov, V. Bessonov, S. Aleynikov, V. Khidiatullin, S. Gorlukovich, I. Shalimov.
Head coach: Carlos Bilardo
Sitting from left: M. Nassibov – masseur, A. Zavarov, V. Ratz, S. Myshalov – doctor, N. Simonyan – team chief, V. Lobanovsky – coach, Yu. Morozov – assistant coach, I. Yaremchuk, I. Dobrovolsky, V. Lyuty, V. Bessonov. Second row: O. Sokolov – masseur, R. Dassaev, S. Gorlukovich, I. Shalimov, O. Kuznetzov, V. Chanov, A. Zygmantovich, A. Borodyuk, V. Broshin. Top row: A. Uvarov, V. Khidiatullin, S. Aleynikov, O. Protassov, A. Tzveyba, G. Litovchenko, A. Demyanenko, S. Fokin.
Head coach: Valeriy Lobanovskyi
Head coach: Emerich Jenei
Head coach: Valeri Nepomniachi
ITA: Zenga – F.Baresi, Bergomi (c), Ferri, Maldini – Ancelotti (46 de Agostini),
CZE: Stejskal – Straka, Kadlec, Kocian, Hašek (c) – Kubik, Bilek, Chovanec,
ITA: Zenga – F.Baresi, Bergomi (c), Ferri, Maldini – Berti, de Napoli, Giannini,
CZE: Stejskal – Kadlec, Kocian, Hašek (c), Kubik – Bilek, Chovanec (32
ITA: Zenga – F.Baresi, Bergomi (c), Ferri, Maldini – Berti, de Napoli
AUT: Lindenberger – Pfeffer, Pecl, Aigner, Streiter – Artner, Ogris,
3. AUT 3 1 0 2 2 2-3
4. USA 3 0 0 3 0 2-8
Head coach: Azeglio Vicini
Head coach: Jozef Vengloš
Standing from left: Hörtnagl, Polster, Aigner, Pecl, Schöttel and Rodax.
Head coach: Josef Hickersberger
Head coach: Bob Gansler
Modern football came to the point of looking as badly constructed robot with easily replaceable, but equally unimpressive parts, a cheap toy of mass production, which is outrageously priced. The name ‘Ciao’ was also symbolic – it means both ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’: hello to the crowning event of football to say bitter goodbye to the game.
Perhaps it will be best to recall a betting agency rather than more ‘professional’ views: this is how Germans ranked the teams in betting terms. Hardly more different that ‘official’ ranking and ‘professional’ predictions/expectations. It will be good to see how close the betting ranking came to actual results. This quotation did not differ much from what was expected by specialists and pundits… Perhaps the most important thing was how England and Spain was seen: no matter what was hoped at home, objectively nobody thought these two teams capable of winning the World Cup. Strong – yes, winners – no. Also run. That was the reality in 1990.
The all-time World Cup table was going to change. What else?
Even the official poster of the finals was reminding a coffin. During the 1980s problems piled up, most of them voiced out, but not addressed – the sport was into fundamental crisis. From aging and increasingly dangerous stadiums to fan violence, which spread like the plague from country to country. By now a football match was really like a war – an invasion of merciless army of fans destroying everything they met on the road to the stadium. Win or lose, the carnage was always present. It was not better on the pitch, where tactical fouls, hunting of the best players of the opposition, vicious tackles, physical battle, time wasting, simulations, and constant complaining of every call of the referees were not just elements of the game, but became the game itself. Referees were no better – their too many mistakes were no longer viewed as mistakes, but deliberately done ‘against us’ and the referee, never really liked, now was considered entirely incompetent, but ill-minded devil. Coaches behaved in a way, which only fueled the fire: jumping, gesticulation, screaming, protesting and abusing the referees every time they blew the whistle. Their ’emotions’ were calculated to increase the tensions and succeeded. A football match was no longer fun and joy, but mean and dangerous event, in which only victory counted, no matter how achieved. Violence ruled the game and everything surrounding it. And by the end of the 1980s something else was evident: a leveling of players and teams. Yes, it was great to see many lowly teams, particularly those from Africa and Asia, improve and coming close to the traditional football leaders, but the traditional powers were not getting better – they were getting worse. Everybody was playing the same kind of football, with the same tactics, it was difficult to distinguish one team from another . The players were also becoming generally the same, similar robots just from the assembly line of mass production. The 1990 World Cup just illuminated all the ills of the game – it was the dullest World Cup finals ever, the final match was simply a shame, leaving the bitter taste in viewers of three hours entirely wasted. Football was dying and the only way to bring it back to some kind of life was by radical surgery. Thus, rules had to be changed and an era of constant changing of rules started. Yet, one key element, perhaps the most important one for the ills of the game, was increased in importance: money. Big money. In 1990 ‘classic’ football expired. Something different was born. Something artificial. Something like a sick patient kept alive only by constant medical intervention, plugged in machines and mechanisms – unplug them and the patient will collapse dead immediately. What started in 1990 was the road on which a player with fantastic salary is terribly injured before even the season started and is constantly complaining of ‘unhappiness’. 1990 was the dead end.
We know him as Cafu and he made records, but that was in the unknown future in 1989, when he was made his shaky start with Sao Paulo. He was both like and unlike Socrates and not because of the position he played: unlike Socrates, Cafu was not highly educated boy from middle-class family, but the typical Brazilian story – a poor boy from the favela, growing up surrounded by drugs and crime, not by books of the Greek philosophers. One of six children, Cafu was born on June 7, 1970 and raised in the Sao Paulo’s Jardim Irene favela and pretty much the only escape from impoverished life was football. But it was not easy… Cafu was rejected by youth teams of Corinthians, Palmeiras, Santos, Atletico Mineiro, Portuguesa… and that was perhaps the reason he was involved with futsal for two years. Rejection seemed to be his fate even after Sao Paulo eventually took him and he made the youth squad winning Copa Sao Paulo – he was noticed, invited to the first team, and… placed on the bench in 1988. As the number on his shorts shows, Cafu was a winger at the time. As winger, he was found unsatisfying – and his chances of playing were almost zero. But Tele Santana coached Sao Paulo at the time, and that was sheer luck – the original problems for Cafu were not lack of skill, but physicality and endurance. Cafu, however, responded with somewhat un-Brazilian toughness and determination – he put big effort in physical preparation, eventually reaching a point that his work output on the field was impossible to ignore. Tele Santana considered that and suggested move from winger first ti midfield and shortly after to right full-back position. Cafu agreed and everything changed. Not right away, but still somewhat suddenly – in 1988 Cafu was firm reserve with no chance to get more than occasional game or two as substitute. 1989 was still like that at first, but… in 1990 Cafu was invited to the Brazilian national team. Since 1990 and what followed was unknown in 1989, the year only records the difficult debut of Cafu. Like Socrates, he was not recognized at once and his debut at 19 years of age was not instant spark of emerging mega-star.
Unlike Socrates, the boy form the favela worked so hard, he reached the national team in less than an year after his professional debut. And soon number 11 will be replaced for good.
Born on February 19th, 1954 in Belem, Para state, Socrates debuted in 1973 Botafogo (Ribeirao Preto, Sao Paulo state).
He played for his home team – his middle class family moved to this city because of his father work and Socrates grew up there – for 5 years, somewhat repeating the fate of Ademir da Guia of Palmeiras, with whom he is pictured here: admired at home, but unable to get national, not to speak of international, fame for some time. Socrates really got noticed around 1978. During his early years the tall striker made quite an unusual move for a player – he started and eventually completed University studies in Ribeirao Preto, getting medical degree. For Botafogo he played 99 games in 5 years, scoring 35 goals, entertaining the local crowd with his trademark back-heel passes, even scoring penalties this way. Botafogo he never forgot.
In 1978 Socrates moved to Corinthians, finally becoming a true star. In 4 years he played 135 games for Corinthians and scored 74 goals. He debuted in the Brazilian national team in 1979, repeating to a point the case of his friend Zico, who also debuted for Brazil rather late. But it was not just the dazzling football which made Socrates a star – his influence and opinions went outside the football pitch:
His political views and involvement made a history not just for Corinthians – his stand against military dictatorship forced his club to play with political adds on the team shirts: ‘Democracy’ and ‘cast your vote on 15th ‘. At that time Socrates also moved back from center-forward and number 9 to playmaker and number 8.
To a point, Socrates was already an anomaly – 192 cm tall, but thin as a rail, he was not perfect for center-forward position in times when burly defenders played rough physical game. His height was even more unusual for playmaking midfielder, so he played somewhat a mix of a straiker and playmaker. Not very fast and largely preferring slow tempo, he had great acceleration, somewhat reminding Cruijff, who was also fragile-looking player with no great speed, but explosive acceleration. Already established key player of wonderful Brazil of 1982, Socrates was destined to go to Europe, as all South American stars were eager to do.
In 1984 Socrates donned the jersey of Italian Fiorentina. But he stayed in Europe just one season, playing 26 games and scoring 6 goals for his new club. 30-years old by now – going to Europe a bit late, like Zico – it was not his age which made his European career short: it was mostly his character. Independent, not much concerned with money, loving Brazilian life too much and not really liking to train, Socrates disliked cold and demanding European professional football and quickly returned home.
Now he joined the most popular Brazilian club, Flamengo.
Should have been the perfect choice from a political point of view: the left-leaning Socrates playing for the people’s club, for the club of the poor.
And also playing together with his friend Zico should have been magical and personally satisfying. But… age and lifestyle were taking their tall. Zico was also getting old and the pairing of the two was perhaps not very well thought move: they somewhat duplicated each other and were not always effective together because of similarity of position. Socrates played only 12 games for Flamengo, scoring measly 3 goals, and in 1988 he was no longer part of the club.
Next stop – Santos, the club of Pele. It was like Socrates paying homage to Brazilian icons – Flamengo, Santos – but it was gradual going home… The season with Santos was not bad – in 1988-89 the aging star played 25 games and scored 7 goals. But ‘aging’ was the key word now… Socrates was no longer the same.
In 1989 he moved to Botafogo (Ribeirao Preto) and after 6 games called it quit. Thus he made full circle, finishing his career exactly where he started it. After 303 official games and 125 goals Socrates stepped down.
For Brazil Socrates stopped playing in 1986 – after the World Cup fiasco, when it was decided that the old stars had to be replaced by new team.
Socrates debuted for Brazil when he was 25-years old in 1979 and ended his national team duties in 1986, when he was 32-years old.
Along with Zico, they were the face of the wonderful Brazil built by Tele Santana.
It was playing for Brazil Socrates became a darling for millions around the globe – elegant, highly technical, graceful, imaginative, always a gentleman on the field, Socrates returned to the fans what was rapidly disappearing in the 1980s: the sheer pleasure of watching football. Alas, the wonderful Brazil and Socrates did not win a World Cup… and in a time increasingly recognizing only success, Socrates became also a symbol of failure somewhat: what good is dazzling play, if you lose? Still, he played a total of 60 games for Brazil and scored 22 goals.
In 2004 Socrates came back and in lucrative England at that.
He was contracted for 1 match as player-coach of semi-professional Garforth Town – and came on the pitch as a substitute for 15 minutes. It was rather pathetic appearance, but still a mockery of his retirement and statistical havoc as well: which year should be considered for his last – 1989 or 2004? And 12 minutes count as official game, so at the age of 50 Socrates completed his official record to 303 games total. But if playing – or sitting on his ass – 12 minutes in a non-league semiprofessional club in England counts, then why not beach football or whatever games Socrates was involved with even before 1989? Let statisticians worry about that – Socrates was too well loved by anybody else, so we can forgive him anything. His moments with Garforth Town were instantly memorable – what a thrill to see him with their jersey! The charming power of ‘anti-athlete’, as he honestly called himself. Fans easily forgive Socrates that his less talented brother Rai actually brought real success to Brazil and oveall had more lucrative career – Dr. Socrates gave us pleasure, one of the few artists of the game after the end of the 1970s.