WORLD CUP USA ’94 / THE FIRST ROUND : Soccer Launches Crusade in America : Openers: Germany vs. Bolivia kicks off 24 teams’ quest for sport’s Holy Grail, followed by Spain-South Korea.
CHICAGO — Soccer is not war, but it was the catalyst for one. Soccer is not life and death, but some distraught fans have tragically failed to make the distinction. Soccer might not even be worth missing dinner for, but tell that to a waiter in a Latin American or European restaurant who should be serving it instead of camping in front of the television in the kitchen to watch a game in the World Cup.
The World Cup.
Never heard of it?
According to Harris and Gallup polls, almost seven of every 10 persons in the United States pleaded ignorance when asked their opinion as recently as last month of the world’s most popular sporting event, and some of those who had heard of it probably thought it had something to do with sailing.
But the sport’s missionaries are here to enlighten us, bringing the World Cup tournament to nine of the country’s largest metropolitan areas in their most determined effort yet to claim another dark continent in the name of soccer. To further their cause, they have brought along some most appealing foot soldiers.
It starts today in two cities. In the opener, defending champion Germany meets Bolivia at Chicago’s Soldier Field, followed shortly thereafter by a game between Spain and South Korea at Dallas’ Cotton Bowl.
Not exactly traditional rivals, these four countries have virtually nothing in common except their zeal for soccer, a passion shared by so much of the Earth’s population that Welsh author Pete Davies refers to it as “Planet Football.”
By the time the 31-day, 52-game, 24-team tournament has concluded, estimates are that a composite television audience of 32 billion will have followed the bouncing ball. Two billion people--more than one in every three of the 5.6 billion people in the world--are expected to watch the championship game at the Rose Bowl on July 17.
What’s the fuss?
If soccer is the simplest game, as it was described when the first formal rules were established in 1863 in England, why is it so dadgum difficult to score? And considering there is so little scoring, why does the game set the hearts of so many people to racing?
Putting “Planet Football” on the couch, perhaps a psychologist would conclude that the answer to the first question would lead to an answer to the other, that people form an almost symbiotic relationship with the sport’s participants because it is such a challenge for them to achieve a goal. Like life.
Then again, perhaps people like the sport because they grew up watching it while sitting on the knees of their grandfathers and fathers, know its history and its heroes, understand not only the rules but the nuances and find it an exciting escape from life’s challenges.
Whatever the reason, fans in at least 190 countries spend countless hours during seemingly endless soccer seasons watching their favorite professional teams. But no games are as compelling as those played every four years in the World Cup.
For this World Cup, the 15th since the tournament originated in 1930, 141 countries selected “Dream Teams” from among their best players for regional qualifications that began with a 2-1 victory by Puerto Rico over the Dominican Republic on March 21, 1992. Some 491 games later, the final 24--including automatic qualifiers Germany, as the defending champion, and the United States, as the host--were set to play for the sport’s holiest Grail, the 14-inch, 11-pound, solid-gold World Cup trophy.
There are six groups of four teams, and each will play the other three in its group to determine which 16--the first two in each group and the four best third-place teams--advance to the second round. At that point, it becomes a single-elimination tournament. If the regulation 90 minutes produces a tie, a 30-minute overtime, and, if necessary, a shootout, will determine the winner.
Even though the scarcity of goals allows the skill-impaired to remain within striking distance in many games, one usually does not need the fingers on both hands to count the legitimate contenders. Only six teams have won the World Cup, and they have combined for 167 victories in the tournament. The 52 other teams that have played in it have combined for 197.
Two past champions, Uruguay and England, did not qualify this year, but the other four--Argentina, Brazil, Italy and Germany--again are among the favorites. Brazil, according to oddsmakers, is the favorite. But it is a gamble indeed to bet against Germany, which has been in four of the last five championship games.
Other teams argue that this is their time, and some, such as Colombia, Belgium, Ireland, Spain, Norway, the Netherlands, perhaps even Nigeria, make convincing cases. As for the rest, well, they can dream. And do. Even the Bulgarian coach felt compelled this week to warn his players against overconfidence.
There is no chance of the U.S. team bowing to that particular affliction. Although the United States played in the first two World Cups in 1930 and ‘34, this will be only its third since. After 1950, when it upset England, 1-0, in one of the most startling results in the tournament’s history, it wandered for 40 years before qualifying again in 1990. The young Americans did not belong in Italy, losing three games by a combined score of 8-2, and went home after the first round.
So the older and wiser Americans have a modest goal this time. They want to advance to the second round.
Much will be determined by their opening game Saturday at Pontiac, Mich., against Switzerland. The Swiss are superior on paper, but maybe they will be taking this game lightly, and maybe they are in no condition to play inside the world’s largest sauna, the Silverdome, in the World Cup’s first indoor game, and maybe the game will be as cuckoo as the clocks they make. It is not for nothing that the U.S. coach, Serbian Bora Milutinovic, is known as the miracle worker.
If the Americans win at Pontiac and manage to tie in one of their first-round games at the Rose Bowl, Wednesday against Colombia and June 26 against Romania, they should reach the second round. The sport’s enthusiasts hope that would be the spark necessary to ignite soccer interest among sports fans in the United States.
Of course, it is not likely to ever reach the manic levels it does in some countries. A dispute between Honduras and El Salvador erupted into war in 1969 after a controversial soccer game between the countries’ teams, and not a World Cup goes by that there are not news stories about fans who have committed suicide or murder out of aggravation over their team’s results.
But soccer officials in the United States and worldwide would like to see the sport become popular enough here that a viable professional league could be established.
They are willing to make some concessions to American tastes. Rules have been changed to encourage more offense, and in this World Cup, for the first time, replays inside the stadium will be allowed and players will be required to wear their names on the backs of their jerseys.
With several players, those who appreciate athleticism in its highest form, no matter what the sport, will surely want to become acquainted. There is Colombia’s Carlos Valderrama, easily identified by his fright-wig shock of orange hair; his cartwheeling teammate, Faustino Asprilla; Brazil’s Romario, with his “Foot of God;” Romania’s Gheorghe Hagi, the “Maradona of the Carpathians;” Mexico’s Jorge Campos, the goalkeeper with the amazing Technicolor dream coats; and Italy’s Roberto Baggio, perhaps the world’s best player.
Is any of this likely to transform Joe Fan from yawning over the sport to fawning? Probably not. But the World Cup would be considered a success for now if, on the next occasion when he is polled, he thinks of bicycle kicks and banana balls instead of keels and spinnakers.
