Mexico ‘86: Hand of God
So, the reason I start here, is because I must start somewhere, and for me something like 1966 is beyond living memory for most people, myself included. Any point at which I start is going to be arbitrary, so I’m choosing 1986 because it is still around the time-frame of living memory, and perhaps far more importantly, it’s the first World Cup England played in since the Heysel disaster, the consequences of which severely impacted English football for the following two decades.
After Heysel, in 1985 English clubs were banned from European competition for 5 years; competitions these clubs had been dominating for the previous 10 seasons. We had played well internationally, too, in Spain ‘82, going unbeaten in the tournament despite playing eventual finalists West Germany (0-0) and Spain (0-0) themselves, plus defeating Platini’s semi-finalist France (3-1) in the first round. As a result, the lead-up going into 1986 was a test of England’s footballing strength and honour after the shadow cast upon it from the disaster.
England only sorta showed up.
In the first round they lost to Portugal (1-0), failed to defeat Morocco (0-0), but by the time they beat Poland (3-0) they seemed to have gotten their act together. Next up was Argentina, and the growth of a very heated footballing rivalry.
For some context, the United Kingdom and Argentina had actually been at war less than 4 years beforehand in the Falklands conflict of 1982, so there were already ample reasons for tension between the two nations. Both treated football as their national pride, and so there was a lot riding on the line for both teams. Both had World Cup pedigree, and had met before in unfriendly circumstances, and in Diego Maradona Argentina boasted one of the greatest players to have ever lived.
He certainly ended up making a difference, scoring two of the most famous goals of his generation, but for two very different reasons.
His second, a magnificent solo goal named by some to be the Goal of the Century, saw him take the ball past most of the England team from the half-way line; a feat echoed nearly touch for touch by a youn Lionel Messi against Getafe over 20 years later. It’s simply stunning, and a worthy tribute to one of the greatest footballing talents the world has ever known.
But his first, was a handball. And he knew it. And when the England players pleaded with the ref to listen, he lied to the ref and said that it was his head. And he came out the next day, after the video footage showed him to be lying, and said it was the Hand of God guiding him to victory.
AND, since Gary Lineker, the tournament’s top scorer managed to grab a goal back later, it’s perhaps a little hard to deny that this undeniably won Argentina the game. A game which would have been 1-1 if not for El Diego cheating. Who knows what could have happened? Argentina went on to win the World Cup.
One thing is for sure: this was no ‘flop’ by England. I’m going to start a few tallies: A) number of times England were knocked out by an eventual winner, B) number of times it was an eventual finalist, C) number of times an incorrect decision contributed to our defeat, and D) number of times there was a controversial red card which changed the game. We’re already off the mark with:
A = 1
B = 1
C = 1
D = 0
Hi everyone. It’s ya boi, Lodatz.
So, I felt inspired to write some long-winded articles, because I've gathered that there’s something of a consensus among some contributors to FootyRoom’s forum that England are, well, perennial flops, and that this is the DNA of our football. Oh, and that we lack flair and intelligence, of course, can’t forget that, not to mention the fact that when teams cheat against us or when the ref makes a bad call, this is merely evidence of the English not knowing how to deal with the dashing cunning of more worldly football.
Of course, that’s pretty insulting, but I’m not writing here to complain about that. Instead, I think it would be better to simply show why I think this isn’t true. In fact, I would go so far as to say that by and large our track record in living memory has been to perform quite well, and usually end up taking eventual finalists and champions to penalty shoot-outs, often without the services of players who have been sent off.
England do indeed usually go home disappointed, but also quite often with a lot of pride, and far more regularly than one might think, grounds to feel aggrieved. So, saddle up for a parade of whiny English excuses as I delve into the (recent-ish) history of the England national team, starting with: