La Coupe du monde de football de 1998

This is a good week to talk sports, right? I know that I was obsessing over the Giants there for a while, but it was exciting to see them qualify for the Super Bowl again. It certainly does not happen every year, and this year came as a bit of a surprise, admittedly!

Still, I do not want to keep talking about them, yet sometimes, you are in a sports mood and want to talk about something, right? So, let me go ahead and recount some of my favorite sports memories in my personal experience. This will take a while, and probably will fill up several entries, at least. It is also a god way around potential writer's block, I think, in order to keep this streak on the blog going strong, and to keep my interest and effort intact.

This time, I will talk about perhaps my favorite personal sports memory of all, and it is not exclusively a sports memory, per se.  As it is explained to you, the reader, this should become a bit clearer.

In 1998, France hosted the World Cup tournament of soccer, which is still the biggest sports event in the world, bar none. A lot of Americans, even those sports casters and other prominent voices that should know better, every now and then claim that the Super Bowl is the biggest sorts event in history, the most watched game ever, and that the "world is watching". But that is far more true of soccer's World Cup, which happens only once every four years, and which is often counted in viewership numbers by the billions. A hundred or two hundred million viewers in many countries is huge, don't get me wrong. But the Super Bowl just cannot compare with the World Cup, period.

Being a dual citizen of France and the United States, it was doubly pleasing to me that these two countries hosted back to back World Cups. The United States hosted in 1994, and I got to go to two games. One was a World Cup warm up between Columbia and Greece, and the other was a Quarterfinal elimination game between Germany and Bulgaria. Germany were the defending champions, and entered that particular game as prohibitive favorites against Bulgaria, who were perceived as a weaker, less experienced, less talented and less disciplined team. Indeed, for the first half of the game and change, this even appeared to be true, as Germany got an early goal and rolled to a 1-0 lead, and then seemed to score a goal to put some cushion in that lead, until it was called back because of an offsides call, if memory serves correctly. But Bulgaria, late in the second half, suddenly got hot, and scored two very quick goals, and just like that, the game completely turned around. Germany was stunned, and tried t mount a desperate comeback, but in the end, time ran out, and Bulgaria pulled off the shocking upset of the champions.

I have always enjoyed the World Cup elimination round, much like the NFL playoffs and March Madness, precisely because it is a single game elimination situation, and anything can happen. It is very unlikely that the better team will not find a way to win in a series of the best of five or more games. But in a single elimination game, you have to be at your sharpest on every play, or it might cost you dearly. That is the beauty of the game. That is what happened that afternoon with Bulgaria's shocking elimination of the German juggernaut.

I thought the quarterfinal was really cool, and the tickets were so huge, they looked like souvenir tickets, or like Super Bowl tickets are often supposed to look like. It seemed we had gotten lucky, and I did not know how my brother managed to obtain tickets to that. Surely, he had gotten lucky.

So, imagine my surprise, when four years later, while living in France by this time, he had managed to obtain more World Cup tickets, and this time, to the semi-final. That is the game right before the final itself, which is to say, one of the three biggest, most important games of the entire tournament! I was quite surprised that he had gotten the World Cup quarter round tickets in the United States in 1994, but shocked when he got the semis in 1998! When he offered me to go with him, I jumped on the opportunity!

            I had been planning to go back to France for a visit for a long time, but had not been in almost nine years! But with him by then living there, obviously a trip would be more accessible, and so I began saving my money, and preparing for the trip. Saving and saving, I got the tickets, and saved up well over $1,000, which I probably do not need to remind everyone was a lot more money back then than it is now.

            So, off to France I went. I left on the 6^th of July, and arrived early in the morning on the 7^th. It had been scorching hot in the United States when I left, with a heat wave and muggy weather, so I wore shorts and a t-shirt on the place. So when it was cold and rainy upon arrival in Paris, it was a bit dismaying. Still, I was excited to be back.

            That first week alone made the trip more than memorable, and it is this first week that I will focus on, and which I include as my greatest sports memory ever. The World Cup spirit was on, and being Europe, it was much more vibrant and alive than it had seemed to be in the United States, where soccer was only beginning to be popular back then, and was not anywhere near as popular or successful in the States back in 1994 as it is now as I write this in 2012. So, the feel was subdued.

            Not so in Europe, where every shop and street corner had vivid reminders of the enormity of the event that France was hosting! As I walked the streets of Paris for the first time in nearly nine years, it all came back to me, as did the World Cup spirit. Sure, I had been watching from way back home across the ocean, but again, the feel was more subdued. We did not have cable, so I had to watch the games on the Spanish stations, which mean I could not understand what they were talking about. Also, the sports reports on the news usually did not go into detail about who had won or lost, unless the US National team was involved, and since the US team did horribly in that particular tournament, even this was perhaps more subdued than it otherwise might have been. So, the feel was more muted.

            But once I was there, it was amazing! Of course, it helped that the French National team was still alive and playing phenomenally well. People were still very nervous about the prospect of France getting eliminated, but as it so happened, the game I was going to involved the France against Croatia!

            France had some powerful teams in the past, most notably with Michel Platini, back in the 1980's. France probably should have qualified for a World Cup Final back then, but they lost both times they had reached the semifinal round, ending up with the overall 3^rd and 4^th place in the 1982 and 1986 World Cup tournaments.

            Not bad, but France was hungry for the championship!

            So, the day after my arrival was the big game, on the evening of the 8^th. I will admit to being nervous as we approached the beautiful new Stade de France, built specifically to host the Parisian games. Technically, it is in neighboring St. Denis, but is well within view, and even walking distance, of Montmartre, which my brother lived near. I remember marveling at the silver stadium, and filing in, trying to work our way through the thick crowd, until we finally made our way inside and took our seats, then watched the players warm up. I specifically remember the goalie, Fabien Barthez, all in black, doing his preparations.

            French fans tended to be a bit more subdued in their support of their team, compared with other nations that had traditionally enjoyed far more success with their national teams, like Germany and Holland and England and Italy. Yet, the crowd was fully supportive on that day. They entered the game having been dominant in the tournament until the elimination round, when they had barely gotten past Paraguay, 1-0, in the overtime session, scoring the first ever "Golden Goal" in the instant death session to move on to the 2^nd round, where they had a showdown with Italy, which ended in a 0-0 draw at the end of yet another overtime session, which brought about the dreaded penalty kicks. But France managed to survive this when Italy missed one too many of their kicks, giving France the victory, and moving them onto the semis, where they were now, warming up for the game.

Before long, the game was on. France had some wonderful opportunities early, and the crowd was raucous crowd in the nearly packed stadium and really into it! Both teams had their chances, yet the score remained 0-0 by the half.

The second half, however, was a different story, and proved much more lively, as far as scoring was concerned. Yet, it was not France who drew first blood. Almost right away in the second half, French defender Lilian Thuram made a mistake on his coverage assignment, and allowed Suker of Croatia free to face Barthez, whom he beat to score and give Croatia the 1-0 lead. The stadium that had been rocking all evening went eerily silent, except for the relatively small Croatian section, which suddenly exploded to life.

Yet, Thuram would more than redeem himself on that day, scoring a goal a minute later to tie it at 1-1, and get the stadium back on it's feet, and rocking. Twenty minutes later, the defender would score again, to give France a 2-1 lead, late in the game. Now, they had to seal the deal and hold off Croatia's inevitable, and desperate, offensive attacks in order to preserve the win. It was not easy, as Laurent Blanc was given the red card and ejected from the game, and France's defense was left with only 10 men to cope with Croatia's 11. So it was an intense, and frightening, end to the game, where everyone just wanted France to hang on, so that they could finally qualify for the Final. When the time finally expired, France was in! Up next: perennial world power and defending champions Brazil! Of course, Brazil was heavily favored by most to win their second championship in a row.

I was nervous about the matchup but was elated that France had finally reached the biggest game in sports! My brother and I waited for the crowd to dissipate a little, and it took a while. There were still a lot of people in the stadium, and then outside on the streets, and almost everyone seemed in a celebratory mood. There was genuine excitement building now, as the host country. We were happy, and we walked back to the city, as many others were doing. Many cars were honking their horns as they passed, and everyone just seemed so happy to enjoy the team's success.

The magical week continued, as two days later, we went to see The Three Tenors, who were giving a free concert at the Champ de Mars, right at the base of the illuminated Eiffel Tower on the evening of the 10^th, in honor of the World Cup. Beautiful music and memories, and not for the first time, I felt very fortunate to be where I was.

Croatia, to their credit, ended up winning the consolation game and finishing with the 3^rd place ranking overall for the tournament. Then, it was time for the big game, the Final between defending champion Brazil and host France! It finally came on the evening of Sunday, the 12^th!

It was deadlocked and scoreless for a good portion of the first half, until Zinedine Zidane, the star of the French National team, knocked in a header to give France the 1-0 lead, and the crowd, and the country exploded! There was just a feeling that this really actually might happen! Yet, everyone knew how dangerous Brazil was, and so the tensions continued, and even mounted as the half approached. France's defense, which had allowed only two goals all tournament through the prior six games, was intense, and allowed the lead to stand. Still, it would be nice if France could put up another goal for a bit of cushion.

Just before the half, Zidane did just that, with yet another header, which gave France a seemingly commanding 2-0 lead, which is how the first half ended. One good half away from the World Championship, which would be France's first! Yet, this was Brazil, and everyone knew they could explode at any given moment. France's defense had played an excellent game thus far, but could they hold on?

As Brazil's attacks were smothered by the French defense, the time ticked away, and the likelihood of a French victory seemed to increase. It got nearer and nearer to reality, but since it was still only 2-0, the tensions were strong. Another goal would surely clinch it, but with Brazil mounting increasingly desperate attacks in hopes of getting on the scoreboard, France's offensive opportunities would surely be limited. The defense would just have to stay strong!

Brazil kept the pressure up, but still were unable to get a goal as regulation time expired, and they were left with only the extra time, which was roughly four minutes. When France's Patrick Vieira found Emmanuel Petit, who then raced almost alone and unmatched toward the goal and then beat Brazilian goalkeeper Claudio Taffarel, the game was clinched, and the party was on! Time expired, and France retained the shutout, winning 3-0, a veritable blowout victory!

We went out in the streets to celebrate, and I have never seen anything like it! Paris was virtually shut down, celebrating. The streets were crowded, literally, with people Cars could barely move, and often had to deal with soccer balls being kicked right toward them, bouncing off windshields. No one seemed to care much, because everyone was celebrating the victory! People were playing their impromptu game right in the crowded streets, horns were honking everywhere, and people were singing and chanting , climbing lampposts, hugging, embracing! Everywhere you looked, it was just pure elation and celebration! A celebration that would last all night, literally! I later learned that it was the biggest celebration that Paris has seen since the Liberation in 1944! Talk about huge!

The night will live on in my memory for a long time. We finally went back home, it might have been somewhere between 3 and 4 o'clock in the morning. I vaguely remember waking up at around 7 o'clock to hear some car horns still being sounded in celebration, literally an all night party for the city! Unbelievable!

With the 14^th of July being Bastille Day (France's version of the 4^th of July, or Independence Day), the celebration was finally complete! The French team had their parade, and the entire country celebrated such a magical moment. I remember watching the fireworks at the Eiffel Tower, which was illuminated in the national colors of bleu, blanc, et rouge (blue, white, and red), and seeing so many people in French National team jerseys, and feeling so incredibly thankful that I was here in Paris for such a momentous occasion! I still feel tremendously blessed for having been there, and for the memories, which are obviously still strong!

That was my greatest sports memory, personally. I was at the right place, at the right time. A trip to France for the first time in nine years, but my timing could not have been better. The previous trip had been during the Bicentennial celebrations of the Revolution, which had been the hugest event that France had hosted in a long, long time, maybe even decades. But the World Cup was even bigger, and when they won, it was simply off the charts! And I was there! Incroyable!