In a recent Q&A piece I wrote for The Mag, I mentioned that the golden age of the World Cup was from 1970 to 1986, which prompted a fantastic piece about the 1978 World Cup in Argentina called “Matt Busby said…”
My first real memory of the World Cup was in 1974, and that’s what I’ll be covering in this article.
We decided that I would also cover the 1982 Spain World Cup in my next article, and Mexico 1986 in “Matt Busby said…”.
Just two years after the tragedy of the Munich massacre at the 1972 Olympics, West Germany was chosen to host the 1974 FIFA World Cup.
Security was on high alert and the Germans had a lot to live up to if the event was to be as exciting as Mexico’s 1970 extravaganza.
Alf Ramsey’s England side were eliminated from the qualifying rounds, meaning Scotland headed to the continent as their home team.
Jimmy ‘Jinky’ Smith of Newcastle United was in Willie Ormond’s team as Scotland were the only unbeaten team in the final, but unfortunately exited first in the group stage on goal difference. (My youngest daughter goes to Glasgow University and has a Scottish boyfriend, but I’ve personally never had any affection for the Scotland national football team, but I just thought I’d tell you all this to give the Haggis critics in the comments section of The Mag some food for thought…haha.)
There was a huge shock when the hosts suffered an early defeat to East Germany in their first group stage match, but West Germany had already won their first two group stage matches.
Brazil, which won the tournament, was no longer the force it was in 1970, and as the tournament progressed, the name of Johan Cruyff of the Netherlands was on everyone’s lips.
On the day of the final between West Germany and the Netherlands, I went with my cousins Stephen and John to my uncle’s house to watch the game.
We were all rooting for the Dutch, especially my Uncle Jocka (not Scottish) who still vividly remembered the air raid sirens of 30 years ago.
Helmut Schon’s Germany team had the calm and authority of the “emperor” Franz Beckenbauer, commanding the defence and supporting the midfield.
The respected team had Rainer Bonhof’s passion and talent, but there was also another special element up front.
“Der Bomber” Gerd Muller, by far the best goalscorer of his generation (and in my opinion the greatest of all time), was back in the spotlight after his heroics in Mexico four years ago.
“Dutch Master” Rinus Michels has assembled a team of outstanding players capable of implementing his version of “total football.”
Cruyff may have been the greatest player but there were also players like Rudi Krol, Johan Neeskens, Arie Hahn, Robbie Lensenbrink and Jonny Repp (remember that goal he scored for Bastia at St James’ Park a few years later?).
With England’s Jack Taylor officiating, the Netherlands started the game with 15 consecutive passes, from left to right and then back to left.
I had barely taken a bite of the Texan when Cruyff picked up the ball in a central position near the halfway line.
He turned and broke through the German midfield and defence before being brought down inside the 18-yard box.
“Penalty for the Joeman beggars,” cried my uncle, jumping up from his armchair.
Neeskens scored a powerful penalty to put the Netherlands up 1-0 inside the first minute, but not a single West German player had touched the ball.
The Germans, shocked by the shells, had to wake up quickly and to their credit, began to defy the stately and imposing Dutch.
Their pressure paid off sooner than they could have hoped or imagined, when midway through the first half, Bernd Holzenbein picked up the ball on the left wing and made a run into the opposition’s penalty area, only to be brought down in a late tackle by himself.
Paul Breitner made no mistake from the penalty spot and now the Netherlands looked shaken.
As half-time approached, Germany again made inroads into the Dutch half, with a loose ball from the right finding the irrepressible Gerd Muller ten yards out from goal.
The cross was slightly behind him, but he took one touch, steadied himself, spun and then with a bang the net bulged. Müller spun triumphantly, looking like a man who’d delivered the fatal blow.
At half-time West Germany were leading 2-1 and, although no one knew it at the time, the game was effectively over.
The Dutch heart was literally torn apart and the game went grim as their players realised there was no way to turn things around against such a formidable opponent.
West Germany were respectable winners of the 1974 World Cup and showed great resilience throughout the tournament.
The photo of Franz Beckenbauer lifting the trophy eight years after losing to England at Wembley Stadium is my indelible memory of that World Cup.
It is often said that you should never underestimate the Germans.
The Netherlands’ Rudi Kroll later recalled that “sometimes you score too early”, and that from the moment Neeskens scored “the Netherlands began to believe they had won the World Cup”.