It was 1994. I had never watched “soccer” before. But the
World Cup was being held here in the United States, and all of my friends from
other countries told me I had to watch. So I did. And my life has never been
the same since, gratefully.
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| Iconic heartbreak |
I used to watch sports with my dad growing up. I loved
basketball, and even liked American football. But none of that prepared me for
watching the beautiful game. Because there is simply no other sport quite like
it. Eleven players on each side, constantly moving, constantly struggling to
get the ball forward or to protect and defend their goal. Goalkeepers defending
a net that has a surface area five or six times their height and wingspan. As I
watched each game and followed the stories of each team, I became infected with
World Cup Fever.
But it was the final that sucked me in and made me a
lifelong football fan. Held at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, a mere 40 minute
drive from my home, it was Brazil vs. Italy. Italy were the underdogs going in.
But I had been drawn to them as I read about their captain, Franco Baresi, who
suffered a knee injury early in the tournament and had to have surgery. But he
made a miraculous recovery and returned for the final. Their star was Roberto
Baggio, they guy with the really ugly haircut, who did just enough to get them
through each round. He almost single-handedly kept them in the tournament. They
were coached by the legendary Milan coach, Arrigo Sacchi, too. But my favorite
was the Italy defense. I always loved defenders in every sport I watched or
played. And I would later find out that Baresi, Maldini, Tassotti, and
Costacurta were all AC Milan defenders, too.
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| The most beautiful defending I've ever seen |
The day was hot and Italy struggled, but managed to meet
Brazil step for step under the Southern California heat. Halftime, and it was
still 0-0. Even after 90 minutes, it was still 0-0. I had never been so tense just
watching a game in my life. The game went to extra time and I was even more
nervous. Fifteen minutes, no goal. The players looked like they would die of
heat exhaustion. Another fifteen minutes, no goal. The game would be decided on
penalties, the first time in a World Cup Final. This was really strange, I had
never watched a sport where a big game was decided in such a cruel manner.
And how cruel. The Italian captain who had fought to come
back for this match missed the first penalty, but then Pagliuca saved the
Brazilian attempt. I don’t remember ever biting my nails before this, but I’m
pretty sure I did that day as the penalties went back and forth. Then, another
Milan player, Daniele Massaro, missed his penalty. I could barely watch. Brazil
kept their run of penalties, and now it was up to future AC Milan player,
Roberto Baggio, the hero of the tournament for Italy. As he stepped up and sent
his penalty kick over the bar, my heart shattered into a million pieces.
Without my brain even comprehending, Italy had lost, but my heart knew it
first.
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| Legends I fell in love with in spite of failure |
And that is how I fell in love with football. Not through a
win, not through glory or through trophies, but through a literal
heart-breaking loss. I had never known a pain quite like it, and so I knew
there would be corresponding
joy, or so I hoped. But I knew from that moment that I wanted to watch
more of this incredible game, where in the blink of an eye, everything could
change and my heart could be stretched so much in 90 minutes, or even 120 plus
penalties. Twenty-four football-filled years later, I have no regrets. Plenty
of pain and sorrow, of course, but also plenty of joy as well. This year,
having a World Cup
without Italy is the worst pain of all, though. And it’s not even just
one person or one aspect of Italian football, it’s just everything.
After the fact, FIFA are going to change their seeding system, but it is way
too late for this tournament. It’s just so painful to not see Italy playing in
the tournament that changed my life. So I am reduced to being a neutral
spectator of this World Cup, enjoying the occasional World Cup Flashbacks.
This post inspired by the music of
Survivor’s “The Eye of the Tiger”