Yearning for Italia '90: When real men had perms and mullets, and football was king
Is it me, or is this World Cup a bit dull? No great games thus far, a shady ball and - Argentina aside - a complete lack of exciting, incisive football.
I'm sure it will heat up as games start to become must win, but all it's done so far is get me misty-eyed for the greatest World Cup of my life, Italia 1990.
What a tournament. I was ten at the time and, like many others from my generation, credit that World Cup for sparking my love affair with football.
Right from the very first game, when tiny Cameroon beat up, kicked around and ultimately beat defending champion Argentina, it was clear that great things were ahead.
Even the TV intro for Italia 90 was an all-time classic. Not to mention, of course, our World Cup song, featuring Johnnie Barnes spitting some fierce lyrics at a time when no-one in the country had even heard of hip-hop. There isn't a football fan in England who can't hum either of those tunes.
My personal memories are still extremely vivid, as I'm sure, are yours. I broke my collarbone playing football on the day we drew 1-1 with the Republic of Ireland and thus remained in various stages of pain throughout the tournament. It was torture not being able to kick a ball with a feast of football all around.
When David Platt scored in extra time against Belgium in the second round, I had long since been sent to bed. Yet my parents, neither of whom really follow football, both came steaming up the stairs cheering and screaming to let me know.
Then, epically, there was the West Germany semi-final. With my hero Peter Shilton beaten by that cruel deflection, I spent most of the game in tears, convinced we were going out with a whimper. I still recall dad's certainty that we would equalise as I sobbed and, sure enough, up popped Gary.
The penalty shoot-out needs no re-living.
The two best things about such a wonderful World Cup? Easy.
Roger Milla and Cameroon - any of you who claim that you've never done the Milla shuffle is lying - and the brilliance of Gazza. He was a complete revalation in Italy. Skilful, daring and fearless, he was the game changer that we've lacked pretty much ever since. His life has never been the same since either, which is the real tragedy.
And no recount of Italia 90 can possibly be considered complete without the awesome BBC 'heat is on' compilation which ended their coverage.
One can only hope that South Africa 2010 ends up being even half as compelling as Italia '90 was. Time will tell.
- What are your memories of Italia' 90? What do you remember best about any World Cup? And is this one as bad as people are saying? Let me know by leaving a comment below!
posted on 18 June 2010 13:37 byMark Heath
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