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Football

Page 3

by Michael Sells


  So, when does a sense of dual nationality becomes unpatriotic opportunism? With football now very much a game driven by money and with the clubs paying the wages, it is perhaps inevitable that players will feel a greater sense of ‘loyalty’ to their club side than their country. One of the only clear advantages to a player of international over club football is the offer of a global stage. Only the elite European clubs can truly boast a guaranteed world presence in the form of the annual Champions League, a competition contested by the top sides from each European league and which in 2012 attracted over 150 million viewers worldwide for the final alone. As a result, numerous players and managers have spent many an hour studying family trees in the finest of detail in the hope of unearthing an ancestor from a nation with World Cup aspirations.

  With the 2006 World Cup in Germany looming large, Trinidad and Tobago’s squad was looking thin. They lacked quality in midfield, someone who could work them out of a tight spot against their technically superior group rivals, England, Sweden and Paraguay. A picturesque archipelago in the Gulf of Paria, the combined population of Trinidad and Tobago stood at only just over 1 million in 2006. To combat their lack of numbers in midfield, they drafted in Chris Birchall, who was playing in the third tier of English football for League One outfit Port Vale at the time. Birchall was not the only player from the lower reaches of the English league to feature in the World Cup; in fact he was joined by no fewer than seven other English-based players in the Trinidad and Tobago squad. These other inclusions attracted little more than local acclaim from their clubs and surrounding area, but Birchall made the national press. Why? He stood out somewhat among his teammates due to his distinctly European complexion and his broad Staffordshire accent. It was certainly an eye-catching choice, but since his mother had been born in Trinidad and Tobago it was, on paper at least, one of the less remarkable changes of allegiance in recent years. Nonetheless, Birchall’s call-up once again got tongues wagging and journalists writing about the contentious topic of international selection.

  The English FA are no strangers to skewing the line of descent either. In 2008, two years after Sven-Goran Eriksson was dismissed as England boss, the former FA chief executive released a book in which he outlined a number of Eriksson’s plans for the team. In FA Confidential David Davies revealed that Eriksson had asked him to enquire about the availability of Italian-born goalkeeper Carlo Cudicini (pictured right) at the height of England’s goalkeeping shortage. Cudicini had spent a number of years in the country playing for Chelsea and, having never represented Italy at senior level, was believed to be a possible candidate for an England call-up. Speculation of these discussions had been rife at the time but, since Cudicini never joined up with the England squad, many dismissed it as tabloid fiction. He was not Sven’s only foreign target either, as Davies divulged:

  ‘Can you also find out about Malbranque, Edu and Saha?’ Sven asked me. I wasn’t sure what the public reaction would be to an Italian, a Brazilian and two Frenchmen coming into the squad but I did Sven’s bidding.

  None of Eriksson’s foreign targets went on to play for England, and the overwhelming opinion of both fans and journalists on his tentative approaches was that such call-ups would cheapen international caps and destroy the morale of English-born hopefuls. The Swedish boss had long been pilloried in England for a perceived lack of appreciation of the traditions of English football, and news of Davies’ foreign assignment only reinforced this reputation. Shortly after Sven’s plans were formed – as so often happens when such speculation abounds – Saha and Edu received call-ups for their respective homelands, rendering them ineligible to represent England.

  With international football drifting away from the patriotic calling it once was, fans and players in many parts of the world have come to see it as club football’s support act – an intriguing but passionless version of the domestic game. But could this change have been averted if the rules on international call-ups had been stricter from the beginning?

  Part of the reason why the criteria for call-ups have not been tightened is that any change would alter the pool of footballers for every country, effectively redrawing geographical borders. The increase in migration in recent decades has naturally led to a rise in dual nationality and citizenship. Of course, this is a wholly positive sign in terms of global harmony, but it has presented quite a quandary to the world of football. To draw the line one step further up or down the family tree would make a huge change to the international game.

  If, for example, call-ups had been judged solely upon place of birth there might have been a power shift in the last half-century of international football. Some of the greatest teams in recent history have been built upon a foreign-born foundation. The France side that won the 1998 World Cup and then, with largely the same squad, went on to claim the 2000 European Championships featured a large and prominent foreign-born contingent. Many of their star names hailed from overseas; Marcel Desailly (Ghana), Patrick Vieira (Senegal), Lilian Thuram (Guadeloupe) and Christian Karembeu (New Caledonia). Although many of these players hailed from nations under French political stewardship, all apart from New Caledonia had their own FIFA-recognised national teams. Removing these players from the French squad would have dealt a severe blow to their chances in both of the competitions in which they claimed victory, but the effect on the ‘home’ teams of these stars would have been far greater. Individually they might not have brought success to their nations, but having such big names as ambassadors might well have pushed them closer. (Ironically, the player widely regarded as the star of that French side, Zinedine Zidane, would under the existing rules have been eligible to play for Algeria should he have chosen to as both his parents were born there, though Zinedine was born in Marseille.)

  Christian Karembeu

  European and South American teams have dominated the world scene since football began, with no team from outside these two continents ever having won a World Cup. Edson Arantes do Nascimento, the Brazilian footballing genius better known as Pelé, was once famously quoted declaring that an African team would win the World Cup before the year 2000. It is a prediction that he has since denied making but, whether or not he said it, it did not come true. Pelé shed more light on the subject when explaining this misunderstanding to football magazine FourFourTwo. In addition to insisting that he had only ever said an African side could, rather than would, win a World Cup, Pelé outlined his reasoning behind this belief:

  I said that Africa produced a lot of good players and that as they went to Europe and learned more, they would get stronger. […] In Africa, the domestic leagues are not strong and they are not organised, but the teams are always good.

  This is the key. Europe is seen as the pinnacle of club football. Historically the top divisions in England, Spain and Italy have been considered the finest, with the Dutch, French and German leagues also featuring a very high standard of play. As a result players have flocked from across the globe to compete in these leagues, wanting to test themselves against the best. Pelé saw this as a good thing, but it has arguably been the downfall of African football. As Pelé identified, club competitions in Africa ‘are not strong and they are not organised’. How can they be if the star players all flee to Europe at the first opportunity?

  International success is an essential ingredient for domestic success as a nation’s footballing pedigree grows over time. Alex Bellos, the former South America correspondent for the Guardian and author of Futebol: The Brazilian Way of Life, discovered just how true this is. In his book, Bellos spoke to a Brazilian football agent called Fábio who had the following to say:

  It’s easier to place a Brazilian footballer in a team than it is a footballer of any other nationality. There is a worldwide fad for Brazilians. It’s sad to say but it is much easier selling, for example, a crap Brazilian than a brilliant Mexican.

  This is what African football is lacking. The pedigree. It is no coincidence that Brazil just happens to have won the World Cu
p more times than any other nation, or that due to a recent economic resurgence the domestic league has gone from strength to strength. While African individuals may flourish abroad, the lack of demand means that when they come to be sold the fees are relatively meagre. This in turn depletes the domestic leagues without putting anything back in, so the clubs cannot afford to replace the players or to invest in coaching or facilities to foster new talent.

  There is the odd exception to this rule, such as Ajax Cape Town, a South African branch of the famous Dutch club, which coaches local players with a view to exporting them to the Netherlands. However, the result is ultimately the same; the best talent is plucked out rather than remaining to raise the profile of the league.

  This may all sound like a world away from Marcel Desailly and Patrick Vieira choosing France over their respective nations of birth, but it is all connected. Should Desailly have chosen to represent Ghana, it would have been a single step towards redressing the balance in football worldwide; so too for Vieira and Senegal. The choice was theirs, they opted against it and it is hard to blame them.

  There are countless stories of African players perishing while attempting to cross frontiers and borders to escape peril at home and reach the footballing havens of southern and western Europe; less well known are the equally dramatic tales of players struggling to gain a return to their homelands.

  In 1958, a sensational story unfurled involving a group of Algerian nationals based in France. At the time Algeria and France had been at war for four years, a war waged by Algeria in an attempt to gain independence. With the World Cup in Sweden two months away, nationalist feelings were running high. The tub-thumping of the French was backed up by a very talented squad. Much like the team that triumphed in 1998 and 2000, it was not a purely ‘French’ squad. There was a strong smattering of Algerian talent throughout the team, including Moustapha Zitouni and Rachid Mekhloufi, two of the region’s stars.

  On 15 April 1958, ten of Les Bleus’ Algerian players defected, setting off for the Tunisian capital Tunis under cover of darkness. There they joined a political movement known as the Front de Libération Nationale (FLN) who had masterminded the exodus. It was a small but powerful protest against the ruling nation. Over the following months the FLN side pitted their skills against any team who would go up against them. They struggled to find willing opposition as their existence contravened FIFA rules; however, they remained unbeaten in their first seven matches, including an impressive 6–1 victory over Yugoslavia and a 7–0 rout of Libya. More telling was the void they left in the French squad, who had travelled to Sweden for the World Cup as planned. They still managed to put on a strong show, breezing past the quarter-final stage of the tournament with Morocco-born striker Just Fontaine notching up an outstanding thirteen goals. It was in the semi-finals that the missing Algerian contingent were most missed. Having faced competitive but not altogether formidable opposition in the lead-up (Yugoslavia, Scotland, Paraguay and Wales), they met Brazil in the semi-final. France lost out in a 5–2 defeat. It was a golden era for France, and many still maintain that with the Algerian players the outcome would have been different. The incident highlights the vital role African-born players have played for other nations and just how damaging their absence could and would be if the rules were changed. After all, even without the Algerians, France’s leading marksman was still not French-born.

  It is astounding to see just how many of the world’s most prestigious footballing nations are built on a foreign foundation. Portugal’s Eusebio was born in Mozambique. Many of the Netherlands greats hail from the South American former Dutch colony of Surinam, including Edgar Davids, Clarence Seedorf and Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink. In 2006 Simone Perrotta became the first English-born player for 40 years to lift a World Cup, having spent his first four years in England before relocating to Italy.

  Eusebio

  The footballing landscape would look completely different today if international call-ups had been restricted to a player’s birthplace. The likes of France, Germany and Portugal would have been weakened considerably while the likes of Morocco, Algeria, Poland and many other traditionally unfancied sides would have prospered. The change would have prevented Algeria fielding a nearly all-French lineup in 2010, but with a different footballing history they might not have had to. The African triumph that Pelé may or may not have predicted could so easily have come to pass, be it Eusebio’s Mozambique, Just Fontaine’s Morocco or some other ‘European’ icon leading his native land to glory. Most importantly of all, the African domestic leagues could be thriving, with Europe’s greatest stars looking to ply their trade on African soil.

  Chapter 4

  Imagine that …

  Zaire concedes after comical free-kick against Brazil … and African football regresses for years to come

  Football, at its core, is a very simple game. Two sides, eleven men against eleven, trying to put one ball into two goals over 90 minutes. Add formations, tactics and weather conditions to the mix and you have the building blocks of the world’s most popular sport. Outside forces sometimes complicate the game, usually to its detriment. In recent years money has caused problems in football, through financial mismanagement and betting scandals. However, in 1974 Zaire international Joseph Mwepu Ilunga and his teammates were confronted by factors far more serious than any of these. The result was one of the most bizarre and misunderstood incidents in World Cup history.

  The 1974 World Cup was held in West Germany. It was a tournament of firsts. It was the first and last international tournament to feature West and East Germany as separate sides. It was the first time that the modern-day World Cup trophy was used, the Brazilians holding on to the previous Jules Rimet trophy following an unprecedented three World Cup victories. Most striking of all was the presence of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of Congo) who became the first black African side to ever qualify for the World Cup finals. It was a momentous occasion for the continent as a whole; a chance to test their mettle in front of the watching world – and a test is exactly what they got. Drawn in a qualifying group against the formidable Brazilians, a robust Yugoslavia and a Scotland team boasting such talents as Billy Bremner, Kenny Dalglish and Jimmy ‘Jinky’ Johnstone, Zaire would have to exceed all expectations to even compete in their group.

  Zaire’s president, Mobutu Sésé Seko (pictured left), took a close interest in the football team; after all, they were set to gain greater exposure for the nation than it had ever had before. He did his best to mould the team in his own image. After coming to power, Mobutu replaced their former nickname, the ‘Lions’, with the more flamboyant leopard.

  In an interview with Shoot! magazine in the lead-up to West Germany ’74, Zaire’s captain Mantantu Kidumu spoke about President Mobutu’s reaction when they qualified for the tournament:

  President Mobutu presented each one of us with a house made of brick, a new car and a holiday for us and our families to the United States. I don’t know what he plans to give us if we win the World Cup!

  It was, however, defeat that would hold the biggest shock for Kidumu and his teammates.

  The first game was against the Scots and provided no shocks. In an underwhelming but respectable start, Zaire fell in a 2–0 defeat. Played out in front of Borussia Dortmund’s half-full Westfalenstadion, the match revealed a noticeable lack of maturity in the Zaire squad. Scotland had made the most of their opponents’ naivety with goals from Peter Lorimer and Joe Jordan, but the Leopards had not disgraced themselves. A tougher test was to follow four days later in Gelsenkirchen, in the form of Yugoslavia. Fresh off the back of a morale-boosting 0–0 draw with reigning champions Brazil, the Yugoslavs smelled blood. The predatory instincts of the so-called Leopards were not in evidence as Yugoslavia struck goal after goal after goal. Five separate scorers had breached the Zairian defence by half-time and the game finished 9–0. Zaire, and more troublingly President Mobutu, were left humiliated.

  With a game against Brazil looming, th
e nation feared further embarrassment. President Mobutu acted swiftly to make clear that this was not an option. A public announcement was put out across Zairian radio and television, summoning the squad to a meeting with the president. Whatever Mobutu had to say, the public nature of the summoning ensured that the team were left in no doubt as to the importance of their performance in the following fixture.

  The day of the game soon arrived and the squad returned to the scene of their nine-goal hammering, the Parkstadion in Gelsenkirchen. 36,000 fans had congregated in the stands to see a unique battle of styles; the masters of the game against comparative novices. The Zairian defence managed to hold strong for four minutes longer than they had in their previous fixture, with the formidable Jairzinho striking after twelve minutes. The Leopards were set firmly in damage-limitation mode with nearly 80 minutes of the game remaining. Remarkably, against all of the attacking flair and penetration of the Brazilians, at half-time the score was still 1–0. The second half saw an equally robust performance from the Africans; it took the Brazilians a further twenty minutes after the break to breach their defence, before doing so again in the 79th minute. As the game headed into the closing stages it appeared that Zaire, although set to exit the competition, were going to leave with their heads held high. 3–0 against Brazil was a respectable scoreline by almost anyone’s reckoning, and were it not for Mobutu’s demands then Zaire would most likely have been content with their showing.

 

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