World Cup Kidnapping: It’s a Shaggy Dog Story
The all-time weirdest soccer story is the tale of the kidnapping of the World Cup. Thirty-one years later, the story has a new chapter.
It’s 1966. The original Jules Rimet Trophy, crated off to England shortly before the World Cup final between England and West Germany, is promptly stolen and held for ransom. There is much private fretting and hand-wringing about security. (Not to mention speculation about the motives of the thief or thieves. After all, how are you going to fence an icon as instantly recognizable as the World Cup? Authorities conclude that the miscreants intend to melt it down for its gold and silver.)
In a twist that could happen only in soccer, all is set right a week later when a dog named Pickles, out for his daily walk, stumbles upon the priceless trophy lying in some bushes in South London.
The English Football Association, which is to have possession of the trophy for the next four years since England has won the tournament, decides that nothing like that will happen again on its watch. In complete secrecy, the FA commissions a London jeweler named Alexander Craig to strike a cheap, goldplated bronze copy of the trophy.
The fake is trotted out for the public and fobbed off for four years as the real thing, which is kept under heavy lock and key. To heighten the illusion, a heavily armed security team accompanies the fake trophy on its public tours.
Cut to 1970. Brazil wins its record third World Cup. In honor of the achievement, FIFA retires the Jules Rimet Trophy and permanently awards the real thing to the Brazilian federation. When a new trophy, of an entirely different (and quite undistinguished) design, is introduced, the cheap old fake is put away in mothballs at the English FA, presumably never to be seen again.
Of course, the new trophy is stolen from the Brazilian federation. It has never been seen since. The fake is eventually quietly returned to the jeweler’s family, which reports that in the intervening years, the trophy was kept under Craig’s bed for many years and even survived two burglaries.
Chapter 3: Last week, Craig’s son, Graham Bird, exhumed the old fake trophy and offered it up for auction through Sotheby’s. Because of its quirky historic interest, experts predicted Bird might be able to realize $7,500 to $15,000 for it.
For reasons of its own, the Brazilian federation sent a representative to bid for the trophy, with a mandate to win it. He was prepared to drive the bidding all the way up to $55,000. For a fake trophy. Which metallurgists estimate is worth maybe $150.
Guess again.
It took only a minute for bidding to reach $150,000. (That’s not a misprint. That’s four zeroes.) Eventually, an anonymous bidder walked off with the fake World Cup for more than--wait for it--$407,000. Susan Bird, the seller’s wife, said the family was “slightly embarrassed at the price it has fetched.”
The Birds are stunned. The English press is having a field day.
And somewhere, Pickles is laughing.
