The Player: Raúl

Every nation had their Golden Boy in the nineties. Paul Gascoigne for England in 1990, Roby Baggio for Italy the same year, Patrick Kluivert for the Netherlands, Ronaldo for Brazil, and Michael Ballack, the only member of the Germany squad in 1999 that wasn’t eligible for a free bus pass. For Spain, it was Raúl. A supremely talented footballer who would become the poster boy for a nation’s underachievement.

Raúl’s career could have panned out differently were in not for right-wing nutjob and Atletico Madrid president Jesus Gil’s decision to close  Los Colchoneros’ youth academy in 1992. The 13-year-old Raúl had joined the club from the local San Cristóbal setup, winning a youth title with the Atletico Cadete team in his second season. Not ones to miss out on putting one over their neighbours, Real Madrid were quick to snaffle the young forward’s services, adding Raúl to their cantera at La Fábrica the following season. After showing an impressive eye for goal across two years with the youth team, he was promoted to Real Madrid C in 1994, but would only make seven appearances; the sixteen goals scored in this handful of outings was enough to convince head coach Jorge Valdano that this teenager was the Real deal, and Raúl would become the youngest player to represent Los Blancos, appearing as a substitute for Real and Spain’s legendary striker Emilio Butragueño at just 17 years and 124 days old. It would be the beginning of a Roy-of-the-Roversesque career.

The youngster wouldn’t have to wait long for his first goal either. On his home debut at the Santiago Bernabeu, in a Madrid derby no less, Raúl scored the first of 323 goals in a 4-0 victory, and would add a further eight goals before the end of the season to lift the La Liga trophy before his eighteenth birthday, just months after breaking into the reserve team.

By the start of the following season, Raúl was Real’s first choice striker, and though his first full campaign in the senior team would end trophyless, he was still able to impress for the Spanish U21 at the following summer’s European Championships, scoring in the final against Italy, though eventually finishing runners-up. The year would end on a high as he was assigned the #7 shirt at the Bernabeu that he would make iconic over the course of the next fourteen seasons, and was given his full international debut for La Furia Roja in a World Cup qualifier against the Czech Republic. In the next qualifier, against Yugoslavia at Valencia’s Mestalla stadium, Raúl netted his first international goal in a 2-0 win. And still he hadn’t turned 20.

La Liga success in 1997 would be followed by the young striker’s first taste of continental success in the 1997/98 Champions League, with goals against Rosenborg and FC Porto in the group stages helping Los Blancos to their seventh European Cup. That success in Amsterdam was swiftly followed by a trip to France for the 1998 World Cup, as Real Madrid’s golden boy was given his first opportunity to shine on the world stage. Though they hadn’t won an international trophy for thirty-four years, Spain were still considered an outside favourite at the tournament, thanks to their collection of gifted players. As Raúl struck in the opening game against Nigeria to give Javier Clemente’s team a two-goal lead, predictions that they could go far in the competition looked justified, but a late fightback and a glaring error by ‘keeper Andoni Zubizaretta saw the African side steal the win. Though the Spaniards would win their final group game against Bulgaria 6-0, a goalless draw with Paraguay condemned them to an early exit.

That bitter disappointment with the national team would soon become familiar. At Euro 2000, a last minute penalty miss from the striker saw Spain eliminated by France in the quarter-finals, while an injury in the second round prevented Raúl from taking part in the debacle against South Korea at the 2002 World Cup. The qualifying campaign for Euro 2004 did at least bring some personal glory for the forward, as Fernando Hierro’s all-time top goalscorer record fell with a double against Germany, taking Raúl to 30 goals in 59 appearances at the age of just 25. The tournament itself, however, would prove another anti-climax, as Spain were eliminated at the group stage. By 2006, Raúl was no longer an automatic starter for his country, but he still appeared and scored at the World Cup in Germany, though couldn’t prevent a second round exit at the hands of eventual winners France. He called time on his international career on the 6th September 2006 after a shock defeat to Northern Ireland. In his absence, Spain would dominate world football for the next six years.

Back at the Bernabeu the trophies continued to flow, though ironically during his best season in front of goal, Real failed to win anything. Four more La Liga titles between 2000 and 2008 sat proudly alongside European Cup wins in 2000 and 2002, with four Supercopa De Espanas, two Intercontinental Cups and one UEFA Super Cups thrown in for good measure. Having been awarded a “contract for life” in 2008, Raúl went on to break Alfredo Di Stefano’s long-standing goalscoring record for Real, and taking Manolo Sanchis’ appearance record within months. With the club spending heavily on Galacticos like Cristiano Ronaldo, Raúl’s time in the first team was nearing the end, and an injury against Real Zaragoza in 2010 proved to be his last appearance for the club.

A successful spell at Schalke 04 follwoed, with two DfB Pokal trophies added to the Spaniard’s haul, before jaunts to Al Sadd and New York Cosmos saw Raúl bow out of the game. Though he enjoyed a glittering career full of success, it seems a shame that one of Spain’s greatest ever players missed out on their tiki-taka period of dominance. Undoubtedly he finds comfort in his myriad trophies, medals, and records.

The Game: Spain 2-1 Soviet Union, 1964

Spain’s hopes of lifting the inaugural European Championships in 1960 had been thwarted, unsurprisingly, by General Franco. Not usually one to shy away from throwing his support behind a populist pastime like football, the fascist leader took umbrage at the idea of Spain’s quarter-final opponents Soviet Union arriving in Madrid and courting communist sympathies among the locals, and so withdrew the nation from the competition. Given a bye into the final four, the Soviets would go on to become the first team to lift the Henri Delauney trophy, beating Yugoslavia in Paris.

Ironically, four years later Spain would host the final tournament which consisted of two semi-finals and a final spread over the course of four days; a far cry from modern tournaments, where seemingly everyone but Scotland gets to have a go, and the lacklustre low-scoring action drags on across the whole summer. Even more ironically, Franco’s men would make the final and face off against none other than, yep you guessed it, the Soviet Union.

Spain had been earmarked as potential winners in 1960 thanks not only to a group of talented homegrown players that included the likes of Luis Suarez and Ferran Olivella, but could also call on naturalised Spaniards Laszlo Kubala and Alfredo Di Stefano, the jewels in the respective crowns of Barcelona and Real Madrid. By the time the 1964 tournament had rolled around, both Kubala and Di Stefano had retired from international duty, and in their stead arrived the workmanlike Zaragoza striker Marcelino and Real Madrid’s tricky outside right Amancio Amaro. Both would play a part in Spain’s eventual glory.

Unlike recent editions, the hosts of the tournament were expected to compete in the qualification process, with Spain having to trudge through three rounds of two-legged ties to make it to their own party. Romania offered little resistance in the preliminary round, beaten 6-0 in Madrid to secure a meeting with Northern Ireland in the first round proper. A goal from Burnley’s William Irvine had levelled the game in Bilbao after Amaro’s opener, but a second half strike from Paco Gento at Windsor Park was enough to see Spain sneak through to the final round of qualifying. Once there, Pepe Villalonga’s side saw off the other side of Ireland with little fuss, as the Republic were turned over 5-1 in Seville, Amancio and Marcelino grabbing two apiece.

The final tournament saw a revitalised Hungary meet the hosts in the semi-final, still smarting from their shock defeat in the World Cup final ten years earlier, but welcoming a new cohort of talented youngsters into the fold. Of those, the 19 year old Ferenc Bene looked the most promising, a fact supported by his appointment as national team captain, despite being the youngest member of the squad. Despite the quality in the ranks of their opponents, Spain flew out the traps and took a first half lead through Barcelona’s Chus Pereda. It looked to be enough to seal La Roja‘s place in the final, until Bene popped up with an equaliser four minutes from time. Amancio, though, would once again prove his worth in extra-time, netting the winner in the 112th minute. Much to the chagrin of Franco, the Soviet’s 3-0 demolition of surprise qualifiers Denmark meant that communism would be coming to his beloved Santiago Bernabeu stadium.

The final itself was a frantic affair played out in front of almost 80,000 fans in Madrid. In the sixth minute, a swift attack down the right saw Suarez loop a cross into the penalty area, which Pereda chested down and evaded two challenges before lashing the ball past Lev Yashin. Some lax defending and abysmal goalkeeping two minutes later helped the Soviets restore parity, though. A long ball forwards found winger Galimzyan Khusainov in acres of space, and his first time effort caught José Ángel Iribar off guard, squirming beneath the ‘keeper’s body and trickling over the line.

The match was won by another piece of Suarez wizadry on the wing. The Barcelona man turned his marker inside out before aiming a pinpoint cross onto the head of Marcelino, who powered his effort into the bottom corner six minutes from time. Though the team perhaps lacked the identity of their 21st century counterparts, Spain’s 1964 vintage were packed with as much skill, grace and determination as Xavi and co. They were the original Red Fury.

The Player: Zlatko Zahovic

Rather than long beards, daft hats and Jeremy Clarkson-endorsed Dad Rock, Slovenia’s ‘ZZ Top’ was best known for three things: dazzling footwork, an eye for goal, and a stinking attitude. When he wasn’t starting an argument in an empty room, Zlatko Zahovic was busy becoming the first great Slovenian footballer since the country’s independence from Yugoslavia, and remains the nation’s top goalscorer. 

Born in Maribor in 1971 and a keen chess player in his youth, Zahovic was snapped up by NK Maribor as a precocious eight year old, before joining neighbours Kovinar Maribor to take his first steps in professional football. The youngster’s big break came in 1989 when, as an eighteen year old, Yugoslavian giants FK Partizan snapped the attacking midfielder up, and slowly integrated him into the first team in Belgrade. In his third season, fifteen appearances and three goals helped the Crno-beli to the 92/93 championship, and alerted Bojan Prašnikar, head coach of the newly established Slovenia national team, to his talent. In only their second game since gaining independence, Zahovic made his international debut.

By now, clubs across Europe had been made aware of this exciting young talent, and Vitória de Guimarães were the unlikely winners of the race for his signature, with the playmaker spending three seasons in the north of Portugal, helping Os Conquistadores to the UEFA Cup twice. It wasn’t long before one of the giants of the Primera Liga swooped in to prize Zahovic away, and in 1996 Porto did just that, making the playmaker a fulcrum of their attack, and continuing their dominance of Portugal with three league titles on the spin during the most productive period of the midfielder’s career.

By 1999, Zahovic’s reputation was at its peak. A multiple title-winner in Portugal, and among the top scorers in the Champions League, it came as a surprise that Greek giants Olympiacos were his next destination, with The Legend shelling out an unprecedented £10m for the Slovenian’s services. When they could get him on the pitch, he repaid that faith, serving up a goal every other game as the side romped to another Superleague title. Sadly, his time in Greece was marred by disciplinary issues, with big fines and suspensions being dished out for his criticism of coach Alberto Bigon. It wouldn’t be the last time he would clash with an authority figure.

The 1999/00 season would at least end in personal triumph for ZZ Top, as he led Slovenia to their first major tournament as an independent nation, finishing top-scorer in Group 2 with eight goals, and netting in the play-offs to help his country reach Euro 2000 in Belgium and the Netherlands. Though unable to escape the group at the final tournament, a creditable showing from Slovenia saw Zahovic net three more goals on his way to a total of thirty-five for the national team; enough to convince Valencia to end his Greek tragedy with a £5.5m bid.

His solitary season at the Mestalla would see a memorable run to the Champions League final end in calamity, as the Slovenian missed his penalty in the shootout against Bayern Munich, which the Germans would go on to win 5-4. With first-team opportunities at a premium in Spain, and Zahovic’s relationship with coach Hector Cuper soured by a spat over playing time, the fleet-footed midfielder returned to Portugal, in a controversial move to former club Porto’s great rivals Benfica. Across three seasons, Zahovic became a fans’ favourite at the Estadio da Luz, helping the Eagles to the Taca de Portugal in 2004, before picking up his fourth Primera Liga winners medal in 2005.

A second international tournament with Slovenia arrived in 2002, as the nation qualified for its first World Cup thanks to four Zahovic goals in qualifying. The tournament itself would be a shortlived experience for Slovenia’s best player however, as a very public falling out with coach Srečko Katanec following his substitution in the opening group game against Spain led to the playmaker being sent home in disgrace. Without him, Slovenia lost all three games and finished bottom of the group.

The curtain came down on Zahovic’s international career in a friendly against Switzerland in 2004, with the player retiring from football altogether just a year later. Since 2007 he has been Director of Football at NK Maribor. As naturally talented as any player to have emerged from the Balkans, Zlatko Zahovic will perhaps best be remembered for his refusal to kowtow to authority. He was, to paraphrase the Super Furry Animals, a man that didn’t give a fuck.

The Game: Yugoslavia 3-3 Slovenia, 2000

The death of leader Tito in 1980 was  the catalyst required to spur Slovenia to claim independence from the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. An economy that had been growing rapidly since the 1950s found itself under more and more pressure to prop up the failing Yugoslavian administration, an in September 1989 the introduction of parliamentary democracy for the state of Slovenia was passed, setting the wheels in motion for a vote for independence the following year. By the summer of 1992, the sovereign nation of Slovenia had gained recognition from the European Union and United Nations, and could finally begin life as a country recognised in its own right.

Before its foundations had begun to come crashing down around it, Yugoslavia had been building one of the most talented young teams in international football. Able to pluck the brightest prospects from modern day Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Montenegro, Macedonia and Slovenia, Yugoslavia had lifted the 1987 Youth World Championship, and reached the quarter-finals of the 1990 World Cup. The penalty-shootout defeat to Argentina in Florence would be the final act of the Socialist Republic at a major international tournament, as the nation were banned from competing at Euro ’92 and World Cup ’94, and would only return to the fold in 1998 as the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Their final tournament before being rechristened as Serbia and Montenegro would be Euro 2000.

The tournament ban for Yugoslavia in the early-nineties would all but spell the end of the Ljubljana-born midfielder Srečko Katanec’s international career. Making three appearances at Italia ’90, Katanec would only make one FIFA-recognised appearence for Slovenia after the nation’s independence before hanging up his boots, but a move into management offered a second crack of the whip for the former Sampdoria and VfB Stuttgart stopper. Initially charged with overseeing the development of the nation’s under-21s, Katanec earned his stripes in the Slovenian top flight with Gorica, before being given the top job at international level. It promised to be an uphill task.

Though Slovenia had previously produced top level footballers, most notably former Bayern Munich midfielder Branko Oblak and Eintracht Braunschweig forward Danilo Popivoda, the quality available to the nation upon their independence was not sufficient enough to mount a serious challenge for major tournament qualification. During the Euro ’96 campaign, the first time Slovenia were eligible to compete, a heartening draw with Italy and an impressive victory over Ukraine were the highlights of a difficult campaign, and only the feckless Estonians prevented the nation finishing bottom of the group. A frankly hopeless attempt at reaching France ’98 offered a humbling reality check of how far the nation had to go before they could even contemplate reaching a major finals, as one point from eight games saw them finish rock bottom.

Enter Katanec. By the time the 35 year old had taken the reigns with the national team, star man Zlatko Zahovic had stepped into the peak of his career and, for a brief time at least, the young coach was able to harness his most volatile talent. With a kinder draw than the previous two tournaments, Slovenia were able to string together a run of five wins from six games that saw them leapfrog a stuttering Greece into second place. By the time the Greeks ran riot in Maribor with a 3-0 win, Slovenia had already secured a play-off place.

Katanec’s team had developed a knack of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat during the group stage of qualifying, taking five of their seventeen points from losing positions. In the play-off with the Ukraine, they were at it again. A talented Ukrainian side, built around Dynamo Kiev’s dominant squad of the late-nineties, took the lead in the first leg in Ljubljana, only for Zahovic and Mile Ačimovič to turn the tie on its head. In Kiev, Sergei Rebrov’s 68th minute penalty looked like taking the Yellow-Blue to the tournament on away goals before another late strike, this time from Miran Pavlin, secured Slovenia’s place at Euro 2000.

The draw in Nyom on the 12th December 1999 was hotly anticipated by Slovenia and their supporters, and saw them drawn into a tough group against Spain and Norway, who they’d lost to twice during qualifying. It was the third nation drawn out of the hat that provoked the biggest reaction however, as Slovenia’s first tournament game would be against the former motherland, Yugoslavia.

It turned out to be a European Championship classic. In the first meeting between the sides since Slovenia’s independence, it was the younger nation that took the game by the scruff of the neck. Though Yugoslavia weren’t quite the side they had been ten years earlier, they still boasted plenty of Europe’s top players, with Lazio’s Sinisa Mihajlovic at full-back, a revitalised Savo Milosevic up front, and a trio of European Cup winners in Vladimir Jugović, Predrag Mijatović, and Dragan Stojković. Slovenia, though, refused to be overawed, attacking their experienced opponents from the off, with little reward.

A scrappy opening quarter burst into life in the 23rd minute, as Aleš Čeh’s cross from deep was met by a stooping header from Zahovic that grazed the fingertips of Ivica Kralj before nestling into the bottom corner. Ten minutes later, the #10 should have doubled the underdogs’ lead. Played through one-on-one with Kralj, Zahovic hesitated for a split-second, allowing the ‘keeper to smother his effort on goal. As the frantic first half came to a close, Slovenia went in with something to hold on to.

Those expecting Slovenia to sit deep and soak up the pressure in the second half were mistaken as, seven minutes after the break and with Yugoslavia readjusting to the introduction of Milosevic from the bench, Zahovic floated a free-kick into the penalty area, and Pavlin buried his header into the top corner. This major tournament lark was proving easier than expected. Yugoslavia looked shellshocked, none more so than Mihajlovic who, five minutes later, inexplicably gifted the ball to Zahovic on the edge of the area, and this time the playmaker made no mistake, cooly slotting his effort over Kralj. Big Brother was on the brink of humiliation.

Things went from bad to worse for Mihajlovic, as a characteristic slice of headloss saw him shove Sašo Udovič to the ground and pick up his second yellow of the match. With a three-goal deficit and down to ten men, Yugoslavia could only pray for the final whistle. But rather than crumble, the dismissal of their influential full-back spurred Vujadin Boškov’s team into action. Any Slovenian fans reading might want to look away now.

Seven minutes after losing a man, Yugoslavia gained a goal back. Mijatovic hooked a corner back towards the six yard box for Miroslav Djukic to knock on, and Milosevic was on hand to tap home from two yards. Three minutes later, Ljubinko Drulović found himself unmarked on the edge of the box and drove a shot through a cluster of white shirts and past the unsighted Mladen Dabanovič. The energy visibly drained out of the Slovenian players, and with seventeen minutes left the equaliser looked inevitable.

It arrived in double-quick time. Katanec’s side were able to hold on for just three more minutes, before the two goalscorers combined with Drulović  driving into the area and squaring for Milosevic to tap in his second of the game and level the scores. All of Slovenia’s hard work had been undone in just six minutes by a ruthless Yugoslavia side. Though they had at least taken part in an early contender for Game of the Tournament.

The remainder of Slovenia’s Euro 2000 odyssey failed to reach the heights of Zahovic’s second goal in Charleroi, with defeat to Spain and a goalless draw against Norway condemning to fourth place in the group. The exhilarating draw with Yugoslavia would also be bettered later in the group stage, as their neighbours succumbed to an incredible 4-3 defeat against Spain that saw La Roja score twice in stoppage time.

Though it may have ended in heartbreak, Slovenia’s summer in Belgium and the Netherlands remains a watershed moment in the nation’s sporting history, best remembered for the game in which they stood up to Big Brother with their chests puffed out and their heads held high and proved they could stand on their own two feet.

The Player (and Manager): Vladimir Weiss

Football coarsed through the genes of the Weiss family. Vladimir Snr enjoyed a career as a no-nonsense centre-back, winning a silver medal at the 1964 Olympics with the Czechoslovakia national team. Vladimir III is currently on the books of Al-Gharafa in Qatar, having graduated through Manchester City’s development team and winning league titles in Scotland and Greece. It’s Vladimir Jnr, however, that has played the biggest part in elevating the standing of Slovakian football.

Born in Bratislava in 1964, Weiss followed in his father’s footsteps and joined local club ČH Bratislava as a teenager, before earning a move to Inter Bratislava and spending seven years marshalling the midfield for the žlto-čierni. In 1988 he was called up to the Czechoslovakia national team for the first time and would go on to earn nineteen caps, three of which arrived during the group stages of the 1990 World Cup. Everything would change on 17th July 1992 as, after the peaceful dissolution of Czechoslovakia following the Velvet Revolution in 1989, Slovakia declared itself a sovereign state. Having been born on the Slovak side of Czechoslovakia, Weiss declared his intention to represent the newly established Slovak Republic, and would go on to net the winner in Slovakia’s first official international since regaining independence, a 1-0 win over the UAE in Dubai.

Having spent his club career pinballing between clubs either side of the Czech/Slovak divide, Weiss’ playing days wound down at Artmedia Petržalka. Before hanging up his boots, however, the tough-tackling midfielder had taken his first steps into management, being given the top job at the Štadión za Starým mostom in 1999. In his seven years with Petržalka Weiss would turn the club into contenders, winning the Superliga title in 2005 and taking them to the group stage of the Champions League the following season. After a season away in Russia with FC Saturn Ramenskoye, he returned to Petržalka to pick up another league title, before landing the job as manager of the Slovakia national team.

Weiss’ first assignment in charge of The Falcons was to get them to their first major tournament since gaining independence. They’d come close to reaching the World Cup in 2006 under Dušan Galis, eventually being swept aside by Spain in the playoffs, but ahead of the 2010 edition, there would be no such missteps. Given a favourable qualification draw, Slovakia finished top of the group by two points, with victories away to Poland and neighbours the Czech Republic particularly impressive. Calling on a mix of grizzled experience and exuberant youth for the tournament in South Africa, including his 20 year old son, Weiss confounded expectations by guiding the nation through the Group Stage and into the last sixteen. Sadly that success wouldn’t extend to the qualification campaign for Euro 2012, and poor home form in particular saw Slovakia finish fourth in their group, behind Russia, Republic of Ireland and Armenia. With hopes of a second successive tournament dashed, Weiss bade farewell to the national team.

A spell with Kairat in Kazhakstan added two more medals to Weiss’ collection, with the Kazakhstan Cup in 2014 and 2015, before International football came calling again, with Georgia securing the manager’s services. Though working with restricted resources, Weiss has managed to turn the nation’s fortunes around, with 2018 proving a productive year for the Slovak coach, as Georgia lost just one game all year, on the way to victory in League D Group 1 in the inaugural UEFA Nations League, thus securing a playoff place for the 2020 European Championships.

Should Vladimir Weiss mastermind a way to Georgia’s first ever major tournament, he will surely take his place in the history books as one of the most important figures in the nation’s sporting history. A standing he has already secured in his native Slovakia.

The Game: Italy 2-3 Slovakia, 2010

The World Cup in 2010, to be frank, wasn’t very good. Festooned with the filthy fingerprints of FIFA’s corporate influence, any colour and culture generated by hosts South Africa was bled of all saturation by Sepp Blatter and his band of jobsworths. That’s not to mention the questionable circumstances that led to the tournament being held in Africa for the first time, in a country with deep socio-political divides. Of the few flourishes FIFA allowed their hosts to add to the competition, the interminable cacophony of the vuvuzela, a plastic horn instrument native to southern Africa, was the most indelible, with the majority of viewers begging for the month to be over so the droning in their heads at night could stop.

On the pitch, things weren’t much better. Winners Spain passed the opposition and spectators into submission, scoring just eight goals in seven games on their way to lifting the trophy. The final was a farce as the Netherlands attempted to kick their way to the title, rather than play the beautiful football they’ve been associated with for so long. The group stages provided some of the worst matches of international football committed to tape, most notably Uruguay v France and England v Algeria, and moments of magic were few and far between.

Though it wasn’t all bad. Ghana’s run to the quarter-finals was uplifting, despite its dastardly denouement; New Zealand surprised everyone by finishing the tournament as the only team to avoid defeat; Diego Maradona’s reign as Argentina ended in suitably ridiculous circumstances; France brought the meltdown lols and, for a brief moment, everyone forgot about how terrifying North Korea is, as striker Jong Tae-se melted hearts around the world with his tears of pride at singing the national anthem.

The standout game, however, arrived in Group F, where holders Italy needed just a point to avoid the ignominy of tumbling out of the tournament at the first hurdle. Underwhelming draws against Paraguay and New Zealand, both of which saw the Azzuri fall behind, hadn’t been greeted with the usual cliches of ‘the Italians always start slow’ and ‘they’ll grow into the tournament’, though these ignored the clear evidence that this was an Italy side on the wane. Coach Marcello Lippi had largely stuck with the same group of players that had won the nation’s fourth World Cup in Germany four years earlier, with nine of the twenty-three over thirty. Captain Fabio Cannavaro, the oldest member of the squad at 36, had already signalled his intention to retire after the tournament, and had looked a shadow of the player that picked up the Ballon D’or in 2006.

Thankfully for Lippi and his players all that stood in their way of a knockout berth were debutantes Slovakia. Vladimir Weiss’ team had rocketed through qualifying with seven wins from ten thanks to the goals from VfL Bochum midfielder Stanislav Sestak, but had struggled in South Africa. Winston Reid’s stoppage time equaliser had denied the Sokoli a win on their World Cup debut, while Paraguay’s energy had proven too much on matchday two. After all the anticipation, Slovakia’s first experience on the world stage looked like becoming a damp squib.

On a cool Johannesburg afternoon, it soon became clear that the World Champions wouldn’t be having it all their own way. Slovakia offered an early warning when 22-year-old captain Marek Hamsik found himself unmarked in the area but was unable to get his shot on target. That warning wasn’t heeded however, and on 25 minutes a lazy pass from Daniele De Rossi was intercepted by Juraj Kucka, who played in Robert Vittek to slide the opening goal past the outstretched arm of Federico Marchetti . Through the aural blare of vuvuzelas, Slovak spirits soared.

A golden chance to level the scores arrived early in the second half with Andrea Pirlo’s cross causing confusion in the box, but substitute Fabio Quagliarella’s effort was diverted off the line by Martin Sktrel. Minutes later Hamsik’s corner was only half-cleared back to the feet of the Napoli playmaker, and his driven cross was tucked away by Vittek to double the underdogs lead. Italy left staring down the barrel of infamy. Then, nine minutes from time, a glimmer of hope. Simone Pepe surged forward and fed the ball into Quagliarella, and though his effort after a slick one-two with Vincenzo Iaquinta was palmed away by Jan Mucha, Antonio Di Natale was on hand to steer in the rebound. Parity was now in sight.

Forced to blink by Quagliarella’s disallowed goal that had Slovak hearts in mouths, Weiss sent on Kamil Kopúnek with three minutes remaining. The plan had been to stem the tide of Italy’s ceaseless attack by adding some steel into midfield. In practice it turned out a match-winning masterstroke. Two minutes after his introduction, Kopúnek raced onto an innocuous looking throw-in and took his first touch at a World Cup finals to lift the ball over Marchetti and into the empty net. Surely now, Slovakia had pulled off the biggest shock of the tournament. But still their fans were made to sweat, as Quagliarella fired and exquisite chipped drive into the top corner to give the holders a slither of a chance. In the 95th minute, Giorgio Chiellini’s long throw bounced towards the unmarked Pepe at the far post, but the Udinese winger was unable to make any kind of meaningful connection with the ball. Mucha’s goal kick marked the end of an extraordinary game.

Slovakia’s journey would end in the last sixteen against the eventual runners-up, but for those that had made the trip to South Africa, it had been an unforgettable fortnight.

The Player: Vitor Baia

Before Wayne Rooney, Steven Gerrard, Frank Lampard, John Terry and Darius Vassell made a career out of disappointing England supporters, the term ‘Golden Generation’ had been exclusively reserved for the talent factory churning out world class footballers in Portugal. First emerging at Euro ’96 after a ten year absence from major international tournaments, The Navigators boasted one of the most exciting, technically proficient squads in Europe, with the burgeoning talents of Luis Figo, Rui Costa, Paulo Sousa, Joao Pinto and Fernando Couto flaunting their ability and reaching the quarter-finals of the competition. Four years later they went one better, with Nuno Gomes and Sergio Conceicao the latest in a long line of graduates to impress with the national team. Throughout this period, Portugal’s vast array of star quality was backed up by one of the most underrated goalkeepers of the modern game. A stopper so good, that Sir Bobby Robson tried to take him wherever he went.

When talk turns to the best players of the 90s, Vitor Baia rarely gets a mention. Peter Schmeichel, David Seaman, Oliver Kahn, Andoni Zubizarreta, Gianluca Pagliuca, Fabian Barthez; all names that will get tossed around to fill the #1 jersey. But none were as consistently successful as Baia. Signed up by FC Porto at the age of 14, Baia had forced his way into the first team squad before he’d tuned 20, just four years after being advised to quit football following a serious arm injury. A tremendous athlete with lightning reactions, unparalleled agility, and a centre of gravity that would turn Tyrion Lannister green with envy, he’d been marked out as a special talent before he’d passed his driving test. By the beginning of the 89/90 season, Baia had become Artur Jorge’s number one at the Dragao, forcing Polish ‘keeper Józef Młynarczyk into retirement. In his first full season, Baia conceded just sixteen goals in thirty-four games,  earning himself the Portugese Footballer of the Year award, and helping Porto to the league title, the first trophy in a career full of more silverware than your nan’s display cabinet.

Awarded international recognition for the first time in 1990, Baia would become a mainstay between the posts for Portugal for the next twelve years, missing just one game in three tournaments, and saving a penalty against Turkey at Euro 2000 to help his nation reach the semi-finals.

Two league titles and a Portuguese cup followed in the early 90s, but it was under Bobby Robson that Baia’s form would flourish. Robson was drafted in halfway though the 93/94 season, and would steer Porto to another cup victory, before back-to-back Primera Liga titles restored the Dragons as Portugal’s dominant side. Nicknamed ‘Bobby Five-Oh’ thanks to his knack for winning games 5-0, Robson made the short hop, skip and jump over the border to take the top job at Barcelona, and his first piece of business was to bring Vitor Baia with him.

In his only season as first choice at the Camp Nou, Baia added the Copa Del Rey and Cup Winners Cup to his medal collection, but the underhanded replacement of Robson with Louis van Gaal spelled the beginning of the end for the Portuguese’s time in Catalonia. Preferring the Dutch custodian Ruud Hesp, Baia was sidelined for the following campaign, making just two league appearances as Barcelona won the league. By the beginning of the 98/99 season, Baia was back at Porto.

Not that he let this setback temper his insatiable appetite for shiny things. Though no longer a guarenteed starter for Porto, Baia nonetheless made sixteen appearences on the way to winning another Primera Liga title. At the beginning of the 99/00 season, with Robson newly installed at Newcastle United, Baia was offered the chance to join his former boss at St James Park, but instead decided to stick with the club that had given him his first opportunity in football.

At the age of 31, with his career seemingly beginning to wind down, Baia missed the entirety of the 2000/01 season with injury, only returning at the tail end of the following campaign – coincidentally these would be the only two years throughout a nineteen year career that Baia would not win a trophy. In 2002, however, a management change at the Dragao would provide the stopper with the two best seasons of his career. Jose Mourinho had worked with Baia for most of his career in his role as Robson’s translator and trusted sidekick, and upon his arrival The Special One restored Baia as Porto’s #1. In Mourinho’s first season, the Dragons won the league, cup and UEFA Cup, and the following season the Champions League was added to the trophy cabinet, making Vitor Baia one of only ten players to have won all three European club competitions.

As Mourinho parted for Chelsea, Vitor Baia’s career slowed to a stop. There was still time to add five more trophies to a bulging collection, taking the goalkeeper’s career haul to thirty, and making him one of Europe’s most decorated footballers. Since retiring, Baia has turned his attention to the charity set up with his wife, dedicated to helping underprivileged children. Meanwhile, Peter Schmeichel is still flogging bacon.

The Game: Portugal 5-3 North Korea, 1966

Aside from a plucky host nation boring, scrapping and cheating their way to their first Jules Rimet trophy, the 1966 World Cup is best remembered for the performance of unknown quantities North Korea. Arriving in Middlesbrough amidst national suspicion, the boys from Pyongyang quickly earned a place in the hearts of the locals, with hundreds of spectators flocking to watch their training sessions, and actively supporting Chollima for their games in the north east. A shock victory over Italy took North Korea into the quarter-finals, where they would meet a Portugal team that had left a big impression on the other side of England.

Like North Korea, Portugal were making their debut at the tournament, but arrived with a squad full of elite European pedigree. Coach Manuel da Luz Afonso had been appointed following his work as Benfica’s Head of Football during O Glorio’s Golden Era, and was tasked with taking the Navigators to their first major tournament. Among the 22 players named in Afonso’s squad, seven had been part of that Golden Era, whilst eight members of the Sporting team that had won the Cup Winners Cup in 1964 also joined the party. The main man, however, was Eusebio.

Born in Mozambique in 1942 and spirited away to Lisbon as  an 18 year old, Eusébio da Silva Ferreira was eligible to represent Portugal thanks to the colonisation of his native country. Originally destined to play for Sporting, Benfica had gazumped their neighbours at the eleventh hour at the insistence of coach Bela Guttmann. By 1962, Eusebio was a hero at Benfica, scoring twice as the Eagles retained the European Cup against Real Madrid and earning the nickname ‘The Black Pearl’. Already a regular fixture for the national team, the qualifying campaign and subsequent tournament in 1966 would cement his place as a Portuguese legend. A hat-trick in the opening qualifier against Turkey set the tone for Eusebio’s campaign, and solitary goals in Ankara and away at group favourites Czechoslovakia put Afonso’s side in the driving seat. Eusebio would go on to score both goals at home to Romania that effectively secured Portugal’s place at the tournament.

If Portugal were to make an impact in England, they’d have to do it the hard way. Drawn in a group with holders Brazil, heavyweights Hungary, and Bulgaria, Afonso deducted that attack was the best form of defence. In their opening game, they got at Hungary from the off, with Benfica winger José Augusto scoring in the opening minute. Pegged back on the hour by Ferenc Bene, Augusto would restore the lead seven minutes later, before Jose Torres made sure in stoppage time. The second game, against Bulgaria, looked an altogether simpler task, and so it proved. Eusebio netted his first of the tournament in a 3-0 win, and anything but defeat against Brazil would see Afonso’s team into the knockout stages. An out-of-sorts Pele, who’d received barbaric treatment in the defeat to Hungary, was unable to impose himself on the game, as Portugal themselves resorted to roughhouse tactics, and it was his heir apparent that emerged as the star of the show – two more goals for O Rei Eusebio secured a 3-1 win.

All of which meant that Portugal would meet North Korea at Goodison Park. Much to the surprise of the Portuguese, supporters arrived en masse from Middlesbrough to support their adopted side, and the partisan atmosphere clearly knocked Eusebio and co off their stride. From kick-off, the typically industrious Koreans harried their illustrious out of possession. With the ball out on the left-flank, Pak Seung-zin patiently waited on the edge of the box before firing an effort into the top corner. Sixty seconds gone, and the underdogs were in the lead.

Misgivings surrounding Portugal’s defence had been allayed by their relentless attacking style of play, but North Korea were all too happy to punish some haphazard defending in the early stages of the game. On 22 minutes, José Pereira flapped at a cross after Korea had got in behind Portugal’s defence, pushing the ball into the path of Li Dong-Woon, who gleefully lashed into an empty net. Three minutes later, Yang Song-guk danced unchallenged into the penalty area and slid the ball into the bottom corner. 3-0 North Korea, and Portugal falling apart. With glory in their eyes and adrenaline in their veins, the Koreans were caught cold just two minutes later, as Eusebio poked the ball under Li Chan-myung to reduce arrears. The next target for North Korea was to get to half-time with their two-goal cushion intact, but with Eusebio growing into the game they failed. Coarsing through on goal, the striker was tripped from behind, and dusted himself off to dispatch the proceeding penalty kick. 3-2 at the break.

The gallant approach of Chollima in the first half was a stark contrast to the side stricken by fear in the second. Unable to cope with the pace of Portugal’s frontline, they soon succumbed to the sensational Eusebio. Ten minutes after the break, the King completed his hat-trick with a thunderous finish into the top corner to tie the scores. Unable to stop him by fair and legal means, the Korean defence took to kicking the #10, and a thundering, mistimed tackle gave Portugal the perfect chance to take the lead. Eusebio, getting up a little more gingerly this time, was still able to dispatch the penalty. Comeback complete. Augusto would make the result safe ten minutes from time, with plucky North Korea’s resolve suitably crushed.

Portugal themsevles would exit the tournament in the following round, as Bobby Charlton and England proved one obstacle too many to navigate. Eusebio would score another penalty in the semi-final, before adding his ninth of the tournament in the third place playoff to earn Portugal bronze, and himself the title of top goalscorer. Unfortunately he would not get the chance to repeat the feat, as Portugal failed to qualify for the next twenty years. They would meet North Korea again in 2010, though on that occasion were met with less resistance. A 7-0 victory in Cape Town failing to match the drama of Goodison Park in 1966 – the greatest World Cup comeback of all time.

The Player: Kazimierz Deyna

Picture post-war Gdansk and you might not imagine it being a fertile breeding ground for a man that would become the first playboy of Polish football. One of nine children born to dairy worker Franciszek and housewife Jadwiga, Kazimierz Deyna was hardly brought up to be a material boy. Aged just eleven, he followed in the footsteps of brother Henryk and joined local football team Włókniarz Starogard Gdański, where he would stay for eight years learning his craft. Eventually snapped up by ŁKS Łódź, Deyna would alert the attention of Poland’s big boys in double quick time and, after being drafted into the army for national service, military club Legia Warsaw took the opportunity to secure his signature, all after just one appearance for the Knights of Spring.

By the age of 20, Deyna had already been drafted into the Polish national team to make his debut against Turkey, before playing a key role in back-to-back Ekstraklasa title wins with Legia. He quickly achieved hero status at the Polish Army Stadium, and across twelve years would become a club legend, earning the nickname ‘Kaka’ thanks to his unusual free-kick technique that would usually result in a goal. Often ungainly and perceived ponderous, Deyna played like a chess grandmaster, always ten steps ahead of the opposition before he’d even received the ball. His range of passing, ability to twist defenders into knots, and fondness of a long-range effort made him almost unplayable at times, and his 93 goals across 304 appearances were supplemented with countless assists.

It was his performances for his country, though, that brought him international recognition. In 1972, Deyna drove Poland on to Olympic Gold in Munich, finishing the tournament as top scorer and netting both goals in the final against Hungary. Two years later, he was key part of Poland’s greatest ever team, finding the net three times in the group stage as the nation finished third at the World Cup. In 1976, he would have to settle for silver as Poland were edged out by East Germany at the Montreal Olympics, but would go on to score again at the following World Cup as Poland reached the second group phase.

Long sought after by the likes of Real Madrid, the communist regime in Poland forbade its footballers from moving to Western clubs, however a breakthrough after the World Cup in Argentina saw Manchester City pay Legia £100,000 to bring the Polish superstar to Maine Road. With foreign imports a rarity at the time, much hand-wringing followed Deyna’s arrival. The idea of a Polish footballer taking the place of a homegrown player was anathema to the commentariat, and City manager Tony Book’s total misuse of Deyna’s talents hardly helped the new signing’s cause. Having made his name as a deep-lying playmaker, Book crowbarred Deyna into a centre-forward role, perhaps due to his goalscoring exploits, and sat back and watched as brutish defenders up and down the country gave him a traditional English welcome.

Struggling to adapt to the pace and physicality of the First Division, Deyna fell back on his second biggest passion: partying. With injuries mounting, game time at a premium, and Deyna a thousand miles from home, he began to find solace in heavy drinking – a habit curbed by the revocation of his driving licence after been stopped under the influence. Despite issues off the field, City fans eventually warmed to Deyna, and still hold him in high regard thanks largely to the seven goals in eight games that helped the club avoid relegation at the end of the 1978/79 season.

But while English pundits mightn’t have been charmed by the skills of the Polish playmaker, American filmmakers certainly were, as Deyna was cast in the 1981 war-and-football flick Escape To Victory alongside Pele, Bobby Moore and Michael Caine. That taste of glamour spurred the midfielder to move to the burgeoning NASL, signing for Californian side San Diego Sockers. Clearly a class above most of his colleagues, Deyna scored 49 times across four seasons in the outdoor league, adding a further 118 goals when the competition moved to the indoor format in 1985. Retiring in 1987, Deyna continued to live in San Diego. In 1991, at the age of 41, he was killed in a car crash.

Often overlooked for the likes of Cruyff, Neeskens and Jairzinho, Deyna was undoubtedly one of the most talented midfielders in world football during the 1970s. Prepared to take risks and make the most of his talent, it’s a tragedy that he failed to reach the heights of his contemporaries, and had his life so cruelly cut short. In 1994 he was voted the Polish Football Player of All Time by the Polish football federation. Not bad for a skinny lad from Gdansk.

The Game: Poland 3-2 Argentina, 1974

“Brian, you keep calling him a clown but in fact that fella has made some fantastic saves”. Wembley, 17th October 1973. England need to beat Poland to qualify for the 1974 World Cup in West Germany. Sir Alf Ramsey’s team are overwhelming favourites, but for forty-five minutes they’ve been thwarted by the heroics of goalkeeper Jan Tomaszewski, whose efforts are rewarded by Nottingham Forest manager and live TV pundit Brian Clough labelling him ‘a circus clown in gloves’. Ten minutes after the break, Jan Domarski gives the visitors the lead, and though Allan Clarke equalises from the spot six minutes later, England aren’t able to trouble Tomaszewski’s net further. Poland top the group, and are heading to their first World Cup since 1938.

Poland had yet to emerge as a footballing nation before the 1970s. Communist rule had prevented players from demonstrating their talent across Europe and, aside from a solitary game in 1938, they had not appeared at a major tournament. At the start of the decade, however, it was clear a change was coming. In 1970, national champions Legia Warsaw reached the semi-final of the European Cup, the furthest a Polish side had ever been in continental club competition. A team comprising Lucjan Brychczy, Kazimierz Deyna, and Robert Gadocha had seen off the challenge of Saint Etienne and Galatasary before succumbing to eventual winners Feyenoord. When former Legia coach Kazimierz Górski was appointed manager of the national team in 1971, it would spark the beginning of a golden period.

Olympic gold in 1972 was followed by a nervy but successful qualification campaign for the World Cup. Drawn in a smaller group of three, defeat in Wales looked to have put the skids on Poland’s progress from the off, but victories over the Welsh and England in Chorzów put Górski’s team in the driving seat. Tomaszewski did the rest.

By the time the World Cup rolled around, Poland’s squad had seen a major overhaul. Among the 22 players that Górski named for the tournament in West Germany, only Deyna, Gadocha, Lesław Ćmikiewicz and Jerzy Gorgoń had earned thirty or more caps. Many of those that made the final squad had only appeared a handful of times for the national team, while young forwards Zdzisław Kapka and Marek Kusto were surprising additions. It was 24-year-old striker Grzegorz Lato though, who had already fired unfancied Stal Mielec to the Ekstraklasa the previous year, that was identified as Poland’s danger man.

Drawn against 1970 finalists Italy and South American contenders Argentina, Poland were given little hope of advancing from the group. Minnows Haiti offered the perfect chance of two points, but before facing the Caribbean debutantes, Górski’s team would meet Argentina in their opening game. Though yet to win a World Cup, La Albiceleste were a team packed with talent, including teenage forward Mario Kempes, who would enjoy a prolific tournament four years later. Revelling in their status as unknown quantities, Poland went for the jugular from the off.

Seven minutes in, Gadocha floated a corner into the penalty area, which Argentina’s custodian Daniel Carnevali looked to gather comfortably. Somehow, he collided with a defender on his way back to terra firma, dropping the ball at the feet of Lato, and presenting an invitation that Poland’s young sharpshooter was all too happy to accept. Shellshocked, Argentina handed a second opportunity to their opponents from the kick-off. A loose ball in midfield was picked up by Lato, and with blue and white shirts backing off, he charged towards goal before weighting a pass into the path of Andrzej Szarmach. Carnevali rushed off his line to meet him, but Szarmach had stolen a march, and curled his effort beyond the keeper to put Poland 2-0 up after just eight minutes.

Buoyed by their stunning start to the game, Poland continued to pile forward, firing high and wide on two occasions before rattling the post from a free-kick. At the beginning of the second half, Szarmach should have made the game safe but, played one-on-one with Carnevali, he fired against the upright. It was all Argentina’s goalkeeper could do to prevent the result from becoming a national emergency, as those immaculate white shirts buzzed towards goal over and over again. On the hour mark, hope arrived for the floundering South Americans. A rare foray forward was worked well into the path of Ramon Heredia, and the Atletico Madrid defender deftly arced a shot over the despairing reach of Tomaszewski. Game on.

Or, it would have been, had Lato not restored Poland’s two goal lead within two minutes. Suicidal goalkeeping from Carnevali, who launched a throw from one side of his penalty area to the other, saw Lato gifted his second goal of the game, and Poland’s third. Argentina would find a second of their own four minutes later as, after a goalmouth scramble, Carlos Babington was able to fire past Tomaszewski. There would be no fightback however, as Poland continued to pile forwards and threaten a fourth, with only profligate finishing letting their opposition off the hook. The Eagles had landed.

Confidence flowed through Górski’s players, and in the next game Haiti were the unfortunate recipients of a Polish masterclass. Three for Szarmach and two for Lato helped Poland on their way to a 7-0 victory. Now on a roll, not even Dino Zoff and Italy could stop the runaway Polish express – Stuttgart witnessing another victory for Lato and co.

By the second group stage, Poland were being talked up as potential winners. Narrow victories over Sweden and Yugoslavia did little to assuage their growing reputation, but a showdown with hosts West Germany would provide their biggest test yet. Needing to win thanks to the Germans’ superior goal difference, Poland were caught on the break late on, eventually falling to a solitary Gerd Müller goal. Deemed to have finally run out of steam, there was still enough in the tank for Lato to score the winner against Brazil in the Third Place Playoff, earning Poland a bronze medal in only their second World Cup appearance, and earning himself the Golden Shoe award with eight goals.

The Eagles would go on to put in a decent showing in Argentina in 1978, and win bronze again in 1982 thanks to the emergence of playmaker Zbigniew Boniek. That would be the high watermark however as, after reaching the second round in 1986, they failed to qualify again until 2002. Though the nation has produced the likes of Robert Lewandowski and Arkadiusz Milik in recent years, it’s unlikely they’ll be able to match the impact of Lato and Szarmach in 1974, when Poland came from nowhere.

The Player: Faas Wilkes

You might not think it to look at them now, but the Dutch have a rich history of  world class forwards. Before Memphis Depay and Ryan Babel there was Robin van Persie and Arjen Robben, before van Persie and Robben there was Ruud van Nistelrooy and Wesley Snjeider, before van Nistelrooy and Sneijder there was Patrick Kluivert and Dennis Bergkamp, before Kluivert and Bergkamp there was Marco van Basten and Ruud Gullit, before van Basten and Gullit there was Johann Cruyff and Johnny Rep, and before Cruyff and Rep there was Faas Wilkes. The Godfather of Dutch Goalscorers.

Wilkes was the Netherlands’ last great superstar of the pre-Total era, a time where the Oranje rarely qualified for the World Cup, and the chances to make a name for himself on the international stage were limited. Born in Rotterdam in 1923 to a working class family, Wilkes’ destiny was to follow in his father’s footsteps as a carpenter until, aged 17, he joined local side Xerxes. Breaking into the first team as a teenager, the young forward’s skill was undeniable. Fleet-footed, and able to outfox defences with his lazy, languid dribbling style, forty-nine goals in four years with the Zebras caught the attention of bigger clubs in both the Netherlands and Europe. KNVB, however, took a dim view of footballers earning a living wage from the sport, and barred the transfer of players both into and out of the country, much to the disappointment of Charlton Athletic and Milan.

Wilkes, though, was single-minded. Desperate to make a living from the game, he sought out a move himself and, after a holiday in Italy in 1949, the inside forward signed his first professional contract with Internazionale. The Dutch Football Federation were incandescent, immediately slapping a five year ban on Wilkes, making him ineligible for national team selection. It was perhaps a desperate grab for authority from the KNVB, but given the explosive goalscoring form that Wilkes has shown in the orange and black of the Dutch side, including four on his debut against Luxembourg, it was very much a case of cutting their ear off to spite their hearing.

In Milan, Wilkes quickly became a fan favourite thanks to his remarkable technical ability. Whilst the San Siro crowds were wowed by his twinkletoes, however, his teammates – and more pertinently his opponents – were less impressed, and the Dutchman found himself the victim of criticism from the former, and the victim of grievous bodily harm from the latter. Two impressive seasons brought third and second placed finishes for Wilkes’ Inter, but injury caused by those trademark bruising tackles from Italian defenders meant that much of his third season was spent on the sidelines. A chance to resurrect his Serie A career arrived with a transfer to Torino, a club still rebuilding following the Superga air disaster. Sadly, time and mistimed tackles had been unkind to Wilkes, and after just twelve appearances and a solitary goal the curtain fell on his Italian adventure.

Three years in Spain with Valencia followed, as the Dutchman rediscovered his form and earned a new set of disciples. Top scorer in both 1953/54 and 1955/56, Wilkes became Valencia’s answer to Di Stefano at Real Madrid and Kubala at Barcelona, helping Los Che to third place in La Liga and a third Copa del Rey victory in 1954. With the KNVB relaxing rules on professional players, Wilkes returned to his native country after three seasons on the Spanish coast, joining VVV Venlo for the inaugural season of the Eredivisie. With his five year ban complete, he was also free to return to the national team, scoring against Saarland on his return.

After two seasons with Venlo, and his career looking like winding down, Wilkes made a surprise return to Valencia, signing with Levante and spending a year banging in the goals in the Segunda Division. Having missed out on promotion, he went back to the Netherlands and led the line for Fortuna Sittard, before ending his career where he started, with Xerxes Rotterdam.

Overshadowed in the history books by the likes of Cruyff and Johan Neeskens, Wilkes was a trailblazer in Dutch football, showing the courage to stand up to the suits at the KNVB, and continuing to play football his way in the face of brutal treatment from the opposition. Having been written off as a hasbeen in his early thirties, Wilkes played on beyond his fortieth birthday and, despite retiring from the game completely once he’d hung up his boots, the forward’s legacy continued. It lived on in Johan Cruyff, the greatest footballer the Netherlands have ever produced, who cited Wilkes as the inspiration for his playing style. It lived on in his goalscoring record, which stood until 1998, when Dennis Bergkamp finally broke it. It continues to live on both at the Sportpark Faas Wilkes where Xerxes play their games, and with the Faas Wilkes Award, handed out to the best footballer in Rotterdam each year.

The Game: West Germany 1-2 Netherlands (1988)

Whilst its a rivalry that has cooled significantly in the last couple of decades thanks to ever expanding globalism, there was a time where the Dutch didn’t much like the Germans. In fact, they bloody hated them with every fibre of their being. Much like all of your Dad’s questionable opinions, it harks back to the war when, on the 10th May 1940 the Luftwaffe invaded the Netherlands, bombarding the country from the air and instigating a battle that lasted four days, and only ended with Dutch surrender following the brutal bombing of Rotterdam. Over two thousand civilians were killed in the attack, which began a five year occupation by the Nazis.

Then there was the 1974 World Cup final, of course. The Dutch had wanted to give their West German counterparts a masterclass on their own patch, taking the lead in the very first minute from the penalty spot, and spending the next twenty minutes just taking the piss out of their hosts. It was a plan that spectacularly backfired, as trademark German efficiency dictated that Franz Beckenbauer and his teammates would ruthlessly dispatch their visitors in the end. Back home, the Netherlands went into mourning, referring to the result as “the mother of all defeats”. It would be another 14 years before they could exact revenge.

The 1980s had been a barren landscape for the Dutch. After back-to-back World Cup final appearances in ’74 and ’78, the post-Cruyff years had seen the Netherlands fail to qualify for ’82 and ’86, missing out on Euro 84 in between. Ahead of Euro 88, being held across the border in West Germany, Rinus Michels returned to the dugout for the third time hoping to go one step further than in 1974. While the Dutch had failed to replace the retiring Neeskens, Cruyff, Rep and Rensenbrink at the end of the seventies, a new generation of slick, skillful footballers cast in the Total Football mould had now emerged, and by the time the tournament rolled around they’d be hitting their peak.

Three players in particular typified the style of football that had made Michels’ Netherlands so popular a decade earlier. Ronald Koeman, a ball-playing centre-back with a penchant for goals, came into the tournament off the back of a spectacular season with PSV Eindhoven, which ended with Koeman lifting three trophies, including the European Cup, scoring twenty-six times in the process. Ahead of Koeman, Frank Rijkaard, a defensive minded midfielder with an exquisite passing range. Not one to shirk tackles, Rijkaard’s ability to play box-to-box was one of his key attributes, seamlessly turning defence into attack with his gut busting runs forward. When there, Rijkaard would find childhood friend Ruud Gullit. Big, strong, fast and powerful, Gullit was perhaps the most technically adept player at Michels’ disposal. Good in the air, two great feet, and able to make a difference from any part of the pitch, the dreadlocked forward was the epitome of Total Football.

Qualification for the tournament was simple. Six wins and two draws saw the Dutch romp home at the top of the group. Once there, things got a little trickier. Defeat in the opening game to the Soviet Union dampened talk of the Netherlands as potential winners, though an out-of-sorts England soon helped increase morale, succumbing to a Marco van Basten hat-trick in Dusseldorf. A late Wim Kieft goal broke Irish hearts in the final group game, but the Oranje rode on to Hamburg, and a semi-final meeting with a familiar foe.

Beckenbauer had swapped the captain’s armband for an ill-fitting suit by now, and had taken an average West Germany side to the World Cup final two years earlier, narrowly missing out to Diego Maradona and Argentina. The new, exciting strike force of Jurgen Klinsmann and Rudi Voller had made light work of Group 1, with only bogey team Italy blemshing the Germans record with a 1-1 draw. For Beckenbauer and his team, victory over the Netherlands was a matter of pride; to be knocked out of their own tournament would be unacceptable, and there was still a shred of ill-feeling from the white side of the divide thanks to the antics of Cruyff and co in ’74.

For the Netherlands, it was more than a game. Thousands of supporters had flocked over the border to create a sea of orange on the Volksparkstadion terraces, and the atmosphere fizzed. Predictably, both national anthems were jeered by opposing fans, preceding a tetchy, tempestuous first half, with plenty of needle and nerves but few signs of quality. Ten minutes after the break, with tempers continuing to bubble, Klinsmann was tripped in the box by Rijkaard. Penalty West Germany. Lothar Matthaus, the pet to Beckenbauer’s teacher, hit a low hard kick into the bottom corner, brushing the fingertips of Hans van Bruekelen. The tension in the German end pricked with a pen; the Dutch, deflated.

Michels’ team stepped up their efforts, both in attack and on the attack. Jan Wouters scythed down the advancing Voller, only for three of the defender’s team-mates to crowd round the permed striker, before Koeman pushed him to the floor. The referee remained non-plussed. Crunching tackles continued to fly in from orange shirts, while Gullit and van Basten were given reign to play at their balletic best. With fifteen minutes to go, Koeman found van Basten in the box. The striker looked to be fairly dispossessed by Jurgen Kohler, but the referee deemed otherwise. Penalty Netherlands. Koeman, of course, stepped up, as he had so often for PSV in the months leading up to the tournament. Another well driven penalty, this time sending the ‘keeper the wrong way. All square, and now the visiting hordes rediscovered their voices.

With the clock ticking towards extra-time, both sides pushed to finish the tie in ninety minutes. Olaf Thon and Pierre Littbarski both went close to winning it for West Germany, before Koeman, again, found Wouters in space. The Ajax man slipped in van Basten, and his outstretched leg guided the ball into the bottom corner, past the despairing reach of Eike Immel. The Netherlands were in the final, revenge had been served, and the Dutch players revelled in it. After the final whistle, having swapped shirts with Thon, Koeman could be seen miming wiping his backside with the German forward’s shirt. File under ‘Things We Say We Don’t Like To See But Actually We Love To See’.

The Netherlands would go on to win the competition in a second meeting with the Soviets, a superb header from Gullit overshadowed by a physics-defying volley from van Basten. For the Dutch, it was the perfect summer. The old enemy vanquished, and a first major trophy to celebrate. Surely now they could put this spat with their neighbours to bed?

The Player: Michael Mifsud

What links Tony Barras, Darren Ambrose, and Michael Mifsud? No, it’s not that they all sound like people you’d hire to sort out a leak in your kitchen. They’ve all silenced Old Trafford with goals that helped knock Manchester United out of the League Cup. What makes Mifsud so special? Well he’s the only Maltese player to have ever scored at the Theatre of Dreams. Born in the coastal town of Pietà just outside the nation’s capital, Mifsud soon became one of Maltese football’s hottest properties, signing with Sliema Wanderers shortly after turning 16. One goal in six appearances in his debut season was followed by a regular spot in the first team, as Sliema challenged at the top of the Maltese Premier League.

His emergence led to the offer of a trial at Manchester United, just weeks after Alex Ferguson’s team had won their historic treble. Though he would return to Sliema after failing to earn a transfer to the English giants, his chance to shine in Manchester would come in good time. Instead, Mifsud continued to tear up his native top flight, banging in sixty goals across four years with Wanderers, though failing to win any silverware.

Manchester United’s loss was FC Kaiserslautern’s gain, with the former Bundesliga champions prising the striker away from Sliema in 2001. Sadly, despite proving a hit in the German’s reserve team, Mifsud would return to Malta with his former club for a season, before heading off to Norway with Lillestrom. In his second season at the Åråsen Stadion he finished top scorer with eleven goals and was voted the best foreign player in the Eliteserien, which was enough to convince Championship side Coventry City to snap him up on a free when his contract expired.

After an impressive first six months at the Ricoh Arena, in which he won Coventry’s Goal of the Season award, Mifsud began perhaps the best season of his career. Having hit a brace against Carlisle to seal the Sky Blues’ place in Round Three, the Maltese striker’s dream of playing at Old Trafford was finally realised. In the 27th Mifsud slid a teasing cross into the far post to give Coventry a shock lead, before his trademark determination saw a goal created from nothing, as the man nicknamed ‘Mosquito’ chased down a long ball forward, nutmegged Gerard Pique and played a one-two with Jay Tabb before blasting into the top corner. Forget that this was an ‘inexperienced’ United defence – there aren’t many that can say they’ve had Pique’s pants down at Old Trafford.

Those confidence boosting goals helped Mifsud reach a tally of fifteen by Christmas, with his giantkilling exploits continuing with a brace at Ewood Park to knock Blackburn Rovers out of the FA Cup. Unfortunately there would be a sting in the tail to Mifsud’s remarkable season, as a protracted move to Bristol City broke down, and the striker fell out of favour. After a loan move to Barnsley, Mifsud returned to Malta, and would finally get his hands on a trophy, winning three Maltese Premier League titles with Valletta in 2012, 2016 and 2018. Now 37, Mifsud is still very much playing, currently turning out for Birkirkara, as well as captaining the Maltese national team.

At international level, Mifsud’s achievements are unrivalled in Malta. Making his debut at 19 against Albania, his career with the Falcons is littered with memorable moments, including a match-winning performance against Hungary in the Euro 2008 qualifying campaign, and an incredible five goal salvo in a 7-1 victory over Liechtenstein – the nation’s biggest ever win. In 2010, with a goal against Finland, he became the country’s top goalscorer, and continues to add to that tally.

While Mifsud might never reach the heights his obvious goalscoring talents deserve, he’ll probably take the title of ‘The Maltese Messi’ bestowed on him by La Gazzetta dello Sport. And that unforgettable double at Old Trafford of course.

The Game: Malta 2-0 Greece, 1975

Winning games isn’t something that comes naturally to the Maltese national team. In 390 FIFA recognised games, the archipelago have won just 42. If friendlies are removed from that list of victories, the number drops dramatically, with Malta winning just five games in their World Cup and European Championship qualification history. Still, everyone has to start somewhere, and in 1975 they did.

Malta had joined FIFA and UEFA in 1959 and 1960 respectively, but decided against registering for World Cup qualification for their first decade of membership. Their maiden forays into international competition had been in the European Championships, losing 9-2 on aggregate to Denmark ahead of the 1964 tournament, and finishing bottom of a group including England, Switzerland and Greece in a bid to reach the 1972 edition. Their first World Cup campaign, following on immediately from the Euros qualifiers, was similarly disastrous, as Sweden, Hungary and Austria made light work of the Reds, securing another fourth placed finish.

In a desperate bid to drill some competitive spirit into the team, the Maltese FA turned to Italian Terrenzio Polverini to manage the side for their Euro ’76 campaign. Polverini had carved out a career as a half decent defender in Serie B, and had been part of the Bologna squad that won the Scudetto in 1964, before injury had forced him into early retirement. Moving into coaching, Polverini spent six years as part of the backroom staff at Ternana, before making his first steps into management at Sliema Wanderers, winning the Maltese Cup in his first season.

Polverini’s first match in charge of Malta saw a defeat to Libya, one of the few teams the Falcons had actually beaten in previous meetings. A goalless draw in Tripoli was hardly cause for celebration either, and it was with trepidation that fans headed to the Empire Stadium in Gżira to watch their team take on World Champions West Germany. Though hardly an even game, Malta did at least manage to keep Franz Beckenbauer and co. at arms length, losing by a solitary Bernhard Cullmann goal.

On form, their next opponents hardly represented an easier proposition. Greece were slowly emerging in the world of international football, and had already racked up a win and two draws from their first three games before heading to the Empire Stadium. Among the Greek side were Vasilis Kostantinou and Mimis Domazos, both members of Panathinaikos’ run to the European Cup final three years earlier. Malta, meanwhile, gave a debut to young goalkeeper Robert Gatt. In a match dominated by the visitors, two bolts from the blue swung the game Malta’s way. In the 33rd minute, Sliema’s Richard Aquilina was played through on goal by full-back Eddie Vella, before lifting the ball over Kostantinou to give the hosts a half-time lead, before Vince Magro repeated the trick in the second half, as Polverini’s advice to his players to catch the Greek ‘keeper off his line helped seal an historic first competitive win for the Falcons.

Unfortunately that wouldn’t be the beginning of a Maltese resurgence, as Greece wreaked their revenge in the very next game, putting four past Malta in Saloniki. Polverini and his team would have the last laugh, however, as the Greeks missed out on top spot by a point, having lost just once in the whole campaign, and saw their place at the Euros taken by West Germany.

It would be another seven years before Malta won their next competitive fixture, a 2-1 victory over fellow minnows Iceland in the Euro 84 qualifiers. While the nation may have experienced more impressive victories, like a 1-0 win over World Cup-bound Belgium in 1994 or the 2-1 victory over Hungary in 2006, that win over Greece will be forever held dear in Maltese hearts. You never forget your first time.

The Player: Robby Langers

A string of Luxembourgian players have worked their way up the ranks of European football to represent teams in the continent’s top leagues. Jeff Strasser spent seven years in the Bundesliga with FC Kaiserslautern and Borussia Mönchengladbach, while current prospect Leandro Barreiro plies his trade at Mainz. Few, though, have made their mark on European football quite like Robby Langers.

Born in Luxembourg City some four months before Gary Lineker, Langers made his name as a sharpshooter at Union Luxembourg, scoring 26 times before his 21st birthday. That hot streak piqued the interest of some of Europe’s bigger clubs, and Borussia Mönchengladbach would move for the youngster in 1980. After two years of warming the bench at the Bökelbergstadion, Langers moved to France, and would break into the Marseille first team, making fifteen appearances and scoring once in his solitary season at the Stade Velodrome. A season at Metz followed, as Langers became the first Luxembourgian to win the Coupe De France, as Les Grenats overcame AS Monaco in extra-time.

Having failed to cement his place in Metz’s first team, Langers dropped down to the lower divisions, signing for Stade Quimpérois in the Championnat. Those two years in Finistère would equip the striker with the confidence to bounce back into the top flight, and a spell with Guingamp that saw him net fifteen times across forty-four appearances. By now reaching the end of his twenties, Langers was about to hit the form of his life, and would experience a remarkable eighteen months. Joining US Orléans in the summer of 1988, the striker would top the Ligue 2 goalscoring charts at the end of his first season, earning himself a move to Nice in the process. Halfway thorough his first season, at the annual Ballon D’or ceremony, it was revealed that Langers had finished in 23rd place, by virtue of picking up one fifth-placed vote from the judges. While it sounds like a puny achievement, the idea that a Luxembourgian could be named among the best twenty-five players in the world now seems ludicrous. Particularly given that he’d spent most of the year in France’s second tier.

Langers would finish that historic season with 17 goals for Nice, third in the top scorer charts in Ligue 1. Sadly, Les Aiglons were relegated, and Langers would depart the following year for a short spell with Cannes playing alongside a young Zinedine Zidane. The forward’s nomadic career would then take in lower leagues in Switzerland and Germany, before returning to Luxembourg for a season with F91 Dudelange and, finally, a farewell year with his hometown club Union at the age of 39 – a season in which Langers would score a remarkable fourteen goals in seventeen games.

Though less prolific at international level, Langers’ record of eight goals in seventy-three appearances is more impressive when you consider that Luxembourg only scored 26 times in the games that Langers was picked. A goal against Germany in a 3-2 home defeat was perhaps the zenith of his international career, though he was afforded a heroes goodbye in 1998, appearing for a matter of minutes in a friendly against Cameroon before being substituted to a standing ovation.

Perhaps not the most talented player that the Grand Duchy has produced, Robbie Langers’ story is at least the most remarkable. Just don’t mention Guy Hellers…

The Game: Luxembourg 2-1 Netherlands, 1963

Younger readers might find it difficult to believe, but there was once a time where it took more than being a team of moderately competent footballers to earn a place at the European Championships. Predictably, given his predilection for progressive thinking and commercial acumen, the idea of a pan-European tournament was the brain-child of Henri Delauney, football visionary and one-man slapstick factory (before becoming an administrator Delauney enjoyed a brief career as a referee, ended after a match in which he swallowed his whistle and had his front teeth broken by taking a ball square in the face). Delauney’s project wouldn’t be realised until three years after his death, but in 1960 Europe’s four best international sides faced off in the inaugural Nations Cup.

Only seventeen sides registered to qualify for that first edition, but when the second tournament rolled around, interest around the continent had been aroused. In 1963, 29 teams took part in three rounds of qualification for the right to take the crown from previous winners the Soviet Union. Since there were uneven numbers, three sides – Soviet Union, as holders, Austria and Luxembourg, for some unfathomable reason – were given byes to the first round proper, as heavyweights such as England, Portugal and Czechoslovakia fell at the first hurdle.

In the First Round of Qualifying, Luxembourg were handed the daunting task of taking on the Netherlands. While this wasn’t exactly the Netherlands of Cruyff, Neeskens and Rensenbrink, the Dutch were at least a half competent international side, in the embroynic stages of their Total Football philosophy. Previously, they’d only been beaten by Luxembourg once, in 1940 friendly, but since then had sent ‘B’ teams to dismantle Die Roten Löwen. In the first leg, things started as badly as expected. Five minutes into the game, Klaas Nuninga, a striker who would go on to win three Eredivisie titles with Ajax, opened the scoring for the hosts, sending 36,000 fans inside Amsterdam’s Olympisch Stadion into raptures. Given the talent at their disposal, the Dutch were expected to rack up a comfortable victory, but in the 33rd minute, Jeunesse Esch midfielder Paul May met Jean Klein’s corner and powered it beyond Feyenoord ‘keeper Eddy Pieters Graafland. The match finished 1-1, and an unlikely upset was on the cards.

Thanks to a lack of suitable venues in their own country, Luxembourg were forced to host the second leg in…the Netherlands, as the De Kuip Stadium in Rotterdam acted as the underdogs’ ersatz home. Having been hammered in the national press after their dismal showing in the first leg, Netherlands coach Elek Schwartz rang the changes, with a completely fresh front three being introduced in a bid to penetrate Luxembourg’s stubborn backline. The minnows themselves made changes too, with Belgium-based engineer Camille Dimmer coming in for goalscorer May. It would prove a stroke of genius.

The hosts sprung out of the traps, taking the game to the complacent Dutch. Dimmer, busy with running up front, struck the first blow in the 20th minute to send shockwaves through Feyenoord’s stadium. The Netherlands hit back fifteen minutes later as Piet Kruiver, a future Eredivisie top scorer, ran through on goal and slotted past Nico Schmitt. Now the momentum was with the so-called away team, and Luxembourg were holding on, desperate to force a replay. The Dutch, though, were too cocksure. Instead of going for the kill, they toyed with their little neighbours, failing to piece together anything incisive to give them the lead in the tie. Their conceit would come back and bite them when Dimmer restored Luxembourg’s lead. With a little over twenty minutes to go, the lights began to go out on the Netherlands’ Euro dreams, and those Luxembourgian fans in the crowd would go wild at the final whistle, as their team pulled off a famous win.

In the final qualifying round, Luxembourg were drawn against Denmark, and would play out a thrilling two-legged tie, and earn themselves an unlikely nemesis. A flurry of goals in Luxembourg left the tie in the balance, as the minnows led twice before relying on Henri Klien to earn the draw after a stunning hat-trick from the Danes’ Ole Madsen. Madsen would be at it again in the second leg, equalising Johny Léonard’s opener before giving the hosts the lead, only for Ady Schmit to send the tie to a replay. In Amsterdam, there would be no more chances for the underdogs, as Madsen scored an incredible sixth goal in the tie to seal a 1-0 victory for the Danes, earning them a place at the Euro 64 finals.

Sadly Luxembourg wouldn’t take this form into their next qualifying campaign, losing six out of six in their bid to make the 1966 World Cup. They’ve never come as close to a major tournament as they did in ’64, but with their current crop of talented players making waves in the UEFA Nations League, it mightn’t be too long before we see The Red Lions giving bloody noses to the big boys.

The Player: Edgaras Jankauskas

Over a twenty year career, taking in sixteen clubs in ten different countries, Edgaras Jankauskas made his name as Lithuania’s first trail-blazing footballer. By sixteen he’d already been snapped up by FK Žalgiris, the biggest club in the capital and winners of the first two Lithuanian A Lyga in ’91 and ’92. Despite his tender age, Jankauskas was soon making a name for himself, netting 41 times in 93 games for Žalgiris, and earning himself a move to CSKA Moscow in ’96. A record of one in two at CSKA saw city rivals Torpedo Moscow secure the young striker’s services for the following season, and another fruitful return had the rest of Europe monitoring his progress. A move to Club Brugge in 1997 would spark the beginning of Jankauskas’ meteoric rise. Eight goals in seventeen appearances helped the Blauw-Zwart secure the Belgian League title, and in 2000 Real Sociedad moved to make the striker the most expensive Lithuanian footballer of all time, shelling out €2.4 million to bring him to San Sebastián.

Though not exactly a flop in La Liga, with nineteen goals in fifty-six games, Sociedad manager John Toshack preferred to pair De Paula with former Sheffield Wednesday forward Darko Kovačević. As a result, Jankauskas was shipped out on loan to Portugal with Benfica, scoring the equaliser on his debut against Varzim in a 3-2 win at the Estádio da Luz. A further seven goals followed, including the opener in the Lisbon derby against eventual champions Sporting, further enhancing his reputation as a clinical goalscorer. That impressive spell was enough to secure a permanent move over the border, but it was FC Porto and their up and coming manager that won the race for the Lithuanian’s signature.

Having impressed at the unfancied União Desportiva de Leiria, Jose Mourinho had been tasked with the job of restoring Porto as the top dogs in the Primera Liga, and Jankauskas arrived alonside Nuno Espirito Santo, Maniche, Derlei and Paulo Ferraira to shape the new manager’s vision. Though not as prolific as he had previously been, the Lithuanian played a key part in Porto championship, Taca de Portugal and UEFA Cup treble. The following year, with another league title in the bag, Jankauskas would become the first Lithuanian to win the Champions League, watching from the bench as his side battered Monaco 3-0 in Gelsenkirchen.

Mourinho’s departure would spell the end of Jankauskas’ time in Portugal, and after a difficult season in France with Nice, the Lithuanian’s next stop was Edinburgh, joining Hearts on a season long loan and scoring against Hibernian in the Scottish Cup semi-final as the Jam Tarts lifted the trophy for the seventh time. By now well into his thirties, Jankauskas would see out his career in typically nomadic style, spending a year at AEK Larnaca, before taking in spells at Belenenses, Skonto Riga, and REO Vilinus. A season in the MLS with New England Revolution brought the final two goals of the striker’s career, before a ten game scoreless run at Fakel Voronezh in the Russian lower leagues marked the end of his playing career.

A Lithuanian international from the age of sixteen, Jankauskas would earn fifty-six caps for the national team, scoring vital goals against Iceland and Belgium in World Cup qualifiers, though he was unable to match the exploits or longevity of Tomas Danilevičius. Moving into coaching soon after retirement, Jankauskas is currently the manager of the Lithuania national team, though has overseen the nation’s worst ever FIFA ranking, taking them to 148th spot in November last year. Regardless, he remains the most decorated player to have emerged from the Baltic nation.

The Game: Italy 1-1 Lithuania, 2006

Like their fellow former Soviet state neighbours, Lithuania joined the international season relatively late, with the 1994 World Cup offering them a first chance at major tournament qualification. Unlike their neighbours, they actually did okay at the first time of asking, drawing their very first qualifier away at Northen Ireland, and beating Latvia and Albania to finish their debut campaign with seven points and a respectable fifth placed finish. In fact, during their first decade as an independent nation, Lithuania outperformed their Baltic neighbours time and again in qualifying. They finished the Euro 96 campaign in third behind Italy and Croatia, and missed out on a play-off spot for France ’98 thanks to Tony Cascarino’s late equaliser against Romania. Results would soon begin to falter however, and having seen Estonia and Latvia catch up with them in the Euro 2000 qualifiers, a winless campaign for the following World Cup was compounded by Latvia’s qualification for Euro 2004. By the time Lithuania prepared to qualify for the following Championships, they’d fallen to the bottom of the Baltic pecking order.

The chances of them emulating their mid-90s vintage in 2006 looked slim. Their warm-up for the beginning of the Euro 2008 campaign had consisted of a 3-2 defeat in Moldova, and the draw had pitted them against, among others, Ukraine, France and Italy. The latter two had just contested the World Cup final, and lowly Lithuania’s campaign would begin with a trip to the newly crowed world champions.

Italy’s homecoming, in front of 55,000 supporters at the Stadio San Paolo in Naples, saw new manager Roberto Donadoni name a strong line-up to face Algimantas Liubinskas’ minnows. Gianluigi Buffon, Fabio Cannavaro, Andrea Pirlo and Filippo Inzaghi made up the spine of the Azzuri’s team, whilst Liubinskas called upon Dynamo Moscow’s Žydrūnas Karčemarskas, FK Tom Tomsk’s Andrius Skerla, Hearts’ midfielder Deividas Česnauskis and Zenit forward Robertas Poškus. Even so, in the opening stages, Lithuania refused to be overawed by their prestigious opponents, with Poškus forcing Buffon into a smart early save. Then, in the 21st minute, the unthinkable happened. A slick passing move found Česnauskis out on the right, and his low driven cross was diverted into the bottom corner by Tomaš Danilevicius, the Lithuanian striker plying his trade in Serie B with Avellino.

The visitors joy was shortlived as Inzaghi equalised nine minutes later, but rather than cave to Italian pressure, Liubinskas’ side continued to look for a winner, with Poškus providing a constant threat. The World Cup holders, too, had their chances, but came up against Karčemarskas in formidable form, with Antonio Cassano and Pirlo being denied time and again by the stopper. At full time, disappointment for the home supporters, but jubilation for Lithuania. An incredible result given their lowly standing on the international stage.

Sadly, Liubinskas’ team were unable to use that surprise point as a springboard for the campaign, losing to Scotland at home in their next game and finishing third bottom in the group, ahead of fellow minnows Georgia and the Faroe Islands. Since the Euro 2008 qualifiers, Lithuania have failed to hit even those heights, with each campaign delivering diminishing returns. Supporters, however, can look back on the night they gave the champions of the world an almighty fright in their own backyard.

The Player: Marians Pahars

Southampton fans might not know it, but they owe a lot of their matchday joy in the late-nineties to Jurijs Andrejevs. The Latvian journeyman, who represented six different teams in his home nation across a ten-year career, paid a visit to a school in Chornobai, Ukraine, during his time coaching at Skonto Riga, to give a talk to young pupils about life as a professional footballer. Among those in class that day was an eight year old Marians Pahars who, until that point, had no interest in football whatsoever. It took another decade before the diminutive son of Latvian immigrants finally made his professional debut for Pardaugava Riga, but from then on his star rose swiftly. A move to Skonto Reserves the following year further enhanced his reputation in his native country, before breaking through into the first team at Latvia’s dominant club side, who would go on to win fourteen league titles in a row. Having been moved from a wide midfield role to an out-and-out forward by Skonto head coach Aleksandrs Starkovs, Pahars’ natural instinct for goalscoring quickly emerged, as the youngster hit 44 goals in 85 appearances across four years in the capital.

A year after breaking into the Skonto first team, Pahars was awarded his first cap for the Latvian national side in a friendly against Cyprus, and soon became a permanent fixture for the Wolves. It was his importance to the national team that led head coach Gary Johnson to recommend the pacy sharpshooter to Dave Jones at Southampton. Clubs from Europe’s top leagues were already on high alert after Pahars’ 19 goals in the 1998 season, but after unsuccessful trials with Salernitana, Werder Bremen, and Casino Salzburg, a perfect hat-trick in a 7-1 win for Southampton’s reserve side sealed his move to The Dell.

Billed as ‘The Latvian Michael Owen’, back before Michael Owen was best known for running over rabbits, taunting pre-pubescents and rallying against the medium of film, Pahars had to wait until the April of the 98/99 season to make his Saints debut, thanks to wranglings over a work permit. Arriving off the bench for the final twenty minutes of a 1-0 defeat at Coventry on Easter Monday, it was clear that Pahars would have to inject something special into a team that went into the final five games of the season mired in a relegation scrap. On his home debut against Blackburn, Pahars came off the bench to score a vital equaliser in a thrilling 3-3 draw, and would go on to preserve the Saints Premier League status with a brace in the final day win over Everton.

Over the course of the next three seasons, Pahars’ goals would keep Southampton in the top flight time and time again, finishing his second season as top scorer on the south-coast despite new manager Glenn Hoddle using him in a deeper midfield role. Thirty-six goals in his first four seasons with the Saints was a decent return for a striker in a struggling side, but injuries would begin to blight his Premier League career. A hernia operation and ankle injury kiboshed the 2002/03 season, though he was able to get himself fit to represent Latvia at Euro 2004. The following year, however, would prove the beginning of the end of his Saints career. A heavy tackle in a pre-season friendly saw those same ankle problems flare up once again, and with Pahars sidelined for the season, Southampton dropped out of the top flight. Despite making a handful of appearances in the Championship, Pahars was unable to rediscover the form that had made him one of the deadliest strikers in the bottom half of  the Premier League, and in 2006 he bid farewell to the St Mary’s faithful.

Injury hit spells in Cyprus and Latvia saw Pahars call time on his playing career, but he was soon back in football when his former manager Starkovs recruited him as assistant manager at Skonto. A spell as manager followed in 2011/12, before his national team came calling once again, naming their former #9 as head coach in 2013. After four years in charge, Pahars stepped down to return to club management, taking up a role at FK Jelgava this summer.

Though he broke few records and won few trophies, Marians Pahars holds a place in the hearts of Latvia and Southampton fans, not only for his direct running, his frightening pace, and his eye for goal, but for his determination on the pitch and desire to win. Saints supporters will recall fondly how often Pahars saved their skin, and while he might not have the medals that Michael Owen does, he has one hundred times more heart than the former Liverpool striker. If only Owen had aspired to be ‘The English Marians Pahars’.

The Game: Turkey 2-2 Latvia, 2003

Footballing success is a foreign concept in the Baltics, which partly explains the bi-annual Baltic Cup tournament where Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania play out a round-robin competition and, more often than not, Latvia win. The Baltic Cup harks back to the late 1920s, but was placed on hold for fifty years thanks to the Soviet occupation of the region. During that time, none of the Baltic states were permitted to compete as independent nations and, with the Soviet Union side largely made up of players from Russia and Ukraine, the development of football in that corner of Europe quickly slowed to a stop.

Naturally, that effective ban from international football put Latvia on the back-foot when they returned to the fold for the 1994 World Cup qualifiers. No wins from twelve games summed up their miserable maiden campaign, but the emergence of a talented group of players at the turn of the century saw Latvia’s international prospects improve. The Wolves finished midtable in their ’98 qualifying campaign, before missing out on a Euro 2000 playoff spot by four points. A dismal attempt at qualification for the 2002 World Cup suggested that order had been restored, but a decent looking draw for the following tournament had Latvian supporters dreaming of watching their team in Portugal.

Group Four of Euro 2004 qualifying had thrown up Sweden, Poland, Hungary, Latvia and San Marino. Immediately, the Sammarinese were written off as whipping boys, a fact that would come to pass as they lost eight from eight, scoring zero and conceding thirty. Hungary had managed to scrape themselves into Pot C ahead of Cyprus, and despite their illustrious history were deemed likely contenders for second bottom in the group. The Swedes were clear favourites for top spot, having become regular qualifiers, while Poland were earmarked for the playoffs – themselves living off past glories, though fresh from competing in South Korea and Japan. It was obvious to manager Aleksandrs Starkovs that the meetings with the legendary Zbigniew Boniek and his team would hold the key to an historic campaign.

Latvia flew out of the traps. An heroic shutout against the Swedes was followed by a famous win in Warsaw, with CSKA Moscow midfielder Juris Laizāns netting a first-half winner. Straightforward victories over San Marino followed to leave Starkovs’ team with ten points from their opening four games and top of the group. The inevitable slump, though, was round the corner, and a 3-1 defeat in Hungary was followed by Polish revenge in Riga – Mirosław Szymkowiak and Tomasz Kłos administering the blows that left Latvia on the canvas. By now Sweden had gone top, Hungary moved into second, Poland into third on goal difference. With two games to go, Latvia needed divine intervention.

Against Hungary, there were no acts of god, just a devastating display of attacking power. Three up in fifty minutes, a brace for Dynamo Kiev new boy Māris Verpakovskis had put the skids on the Hungarians’ Euro dreams. Meanwhile, in Chorzow, Sweden were securing their place at the tournament with a victory that left Poland relying on Scandinavian goodwill. With nothing to play for in the final game, it was no surprise to see an experimental Swedish side fail to match the intensity of Starkovs’ History Boys. Sweden 0-1 Latvia. The Baltics left bouncing into the playoffs.

That, surely, would be the end of the road. In a fiendish pool, World Cup bronze medalists Turkey represented a generous draw, with the Netherlands and Spain both avoided. On a tempestuous evening in the capital, Verpakovskis came up with the goods again, as a frustrated Turkey were left with ten men for the final quarter hour following Emre Aşık’s petulance. The return leg, in Besiktas’ İnönü Stadium, would prove an altogether more troubling prospect.

And so it proved. Caught in two minds between defending their precious lead and taking the game to their higher ranking opponents, Latvia were torn apart in Istanbul. lhan Mansiz struck first blood after twenty minutes, bringing the tie level, before Turkey’s trusty poacher Hakan Şükür looked to have landed the decisive blow with a little over twenty five minutes to go. Twenty thousand home supporters celebrated in wild relief. The Turkish team visibly relaxed. The Latvians posted their riposte. Ninety seconds later, Juris Laizans free-kick floated past Omer Catkic to edge the minnows ahead on away goals. Turkey’s nightmare was not yet over and, as if woken from a peaceful slumber, Şenol Güneş’ team threw themselves forwards in desperation. Twelve minutes from time, that boldness was proved reckless as, with acres of space behind the Turkish defence, Verpakovskis raced through and dinked the decisive shot over Catkic. Starkovs had bossed the Bosporus, and Latvia, unbelievably, were headed for Portugal.

Drawn in an unforgiving group, few gave the Baltic minnows a chance of even gaining a point at Euro 2004, though they were minutes away from a brilliant point against the Czech Republic in their opening game. Some trademark rearguard action against an abysmal Germany earned Latvia their first point at a major tournament, and though their Iberian sojourn was spoiled somewhat by a three goal spanking at the hands of the Netherlands,  nothing could be taken away from the most remarkable summer in the nation’s footballing history. Though they’re yet to reach the heights of 2004, the Wolves have at least managed to add another five Baltic Cups to their collection since.