Eight World Cups

The Hungarians were legends, Brazil on the Danube, eight or nine of them swarming downfield, beating England, 6–3, at Wembley. The English could not believe it and came back for more, and Hungary won, 7–1. That first victory is memorialized by the 6–3 wine bar, still operative in Budapest.

I have also read the theory that Americans cannot possibly relate to a sport with so many draws. We demand a winner. For the first four seasons of its existence, Major League Soccer pandered to this theory by conducting shoot-outs, but the home office of FIFA, located in Zurich, chastised the young league, so in 2000, MLS legitimized draws, and rig

Gentile’s response was blunt: “Soccer is not for ballerinas.”

president of the Kuwait Football Association stormed onto the field to protest a goal by France after his players believed a whistle had been blown to stop play. In his robe, sandals, and kaffiyeh, the sheikh berated the Ukrainian official, who then stunningly reversed his decision. The sheikh returned to the stands, and France swamped Kuwait, 4–1.

Battiston went down, and some French players thought he was dead; ultimately, he would need extensive work to repair his jaw and teeth. The referee showed no curiosity as to why a player would suddenly need extreme medical attention for a broken jaw; Schumacher was not penalized. The collision remains the ugliest single act in World Cup history.

Of course, anybody who follows soccer also becomes part Brazilian.

United States’ victory over England in 1950. Wait a minute. The United States beat England in the World Cup? This was news to me. I discovered the United States had indeed upset England, 1–0, on a goal by Joe Gaetjens, who was actually from Haiti. I also learned that newspaper editors of the time believed the score was a typographical error when it

John McDermott, who was working the sidelines that day, recalled how Brazilian photographers were crying as they clicked away. Several years later, Rossi published a book entitled Ho fatto piangere il Brasile (I made Brazil cry).

Another theory was: Americans need double-digit football scores and triple-digit basketball scores. Unless they can witness a series of acrobatic dunks, with the scoreboard digitally rising like the National Debt Clock, then Americans lose interest. We like things big, like American restaurants doling out super-size portions, even if they bring on