Coupe du Monde 1998 World Cup - France v. Afrique du Sud/South Africa 1e Tour 1st Round

Like Super Bowl tickets, the tickets for the World Cup semifinal in Saint-Denis (as well as the tickets for the quarterfinal that my brother and I attended at Giants Stadium in 1994) are souvenir tickets, to add to that sense of it having been a really big deal. I absolutely loved them, and kept them both through the years. Even now, admittedly, I take them out every now and then to simply look at them, and appreciate the fact that my brother and I managed to go to such huge events, and in consecutive World Cups, to boot! The two nations that we are citizens of hosted the World Cup tournament back-to-back, which made me feel almost like an experienced aficionado after the semifinal with Croatia!

France wore their blue (home) jerseys for the game against Paraguay along with their traditional white shorts and red socks. South Africa wore white jerseys with colorful gold and green highlights, and green shorts. 

Okay, so the Women's World Cup is going on right now in Canada. I will admit to not having ever gotten into the Women's World Cup as much as the men's, because I am old enough to remember the days before there ever was such a thing as the Women's World Cup.

That is not to say that the women's tournament is not exciting, or that it does not deserve the increasing attention and praise that it gets, because it surely does.

As a man, I risk sounding sexist by saying that I never got into the women's tournament as much as the men's tournament. All I am saying is that my allegiances were far stronger with the men's tournament, since those date back to my own childhood, and the World Cup tournament itself far predates my own childhood, going back to the relatively early 20th century.

As a child, I can remember the World Cup of 1986, the first tournament that I really followed. There was the very memorable game between France and Brazil, which France won, barely. It was one of the best, and most memorable, games that I have ever seen. Very exciting, very tense, and when France won, the whole family was celebrating!

France did well in both the 1982 and 1986 World Cups, reaching the semi-finals and placing third and fourth. However, France has been nothing if not inconsistent throughout it's soccer history (and this may extend to France's history in other areas, as well). So, the team failed to qualify for both the 1990 and 1994 World Cup tournaments, although it automatically qualified as hosts in the 1998 World Cup, this setting up the one tournament, and probably sports memory, that will live on above all others for me, personally. I have written about them before on this blog, and have republished a couple of those entries down below.

Also, I wanted to honor that French national team now by posting the broadcast coverage of the first game that they played during that Coupe du Monde/World Cup 1998, which was against South Africa. Exactly one month to the day when they would clinch their first (and so far only) World Cup championship ever, France won by the score of 3-0, the same exact score that they would defeat Brazil by in the Final.

As for the Women's World Cup, I have admittedly not been following it too closely, although I will try to cover it over the next few weeks, while the elimination rounds go on. I should note that my wife and I attended a couple of games at the old Giants Stadium during the 1999 tournament.

So here is the video of the France/South Africa match in 1998 to kick off the 1998 World Cup tournament, followed by some republished blog entries about that remarkable, and very memorable, France side.

France v. Afrique du Sud 1e Tour
12 juin 1998 - Coupe du Monde - Stade Vélodrome (Marseille)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFeRvBPdssU&authuser=0

This I wrote in 2012, when my favorite NFL team, the New York Giants, reached Super Bowl XLVI, and were about to defeat the New England Patriots for the second time in five seasons. I was thinking a lot about sports then, and wrote this blog entry about some memories from the 1998 World Cup:

La Coupe du monde de football de 1998 - Published on February 3, 2012

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.

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!






This I wrote last year, as the 2014 World Cup in Brazil kicked off. This includes some pictures, which I kept in this republishing:

My World Cup Memories - USA '94 & France Trip 1998 - Coupe du Monde   Published on June 12, 2014:

Well, today marks the beginning of the World Cup tournament in Brazil for this year. It will last a bit longer than a month, and like all of these tournaments do, it promises to leave memories behind that people will likely be talking about for many years to come.

For some, these will be glorious. Surely, that will be the case for the winner, of course, and the citizens and fans of that nation's national team, whoever it winds up being. And surely, there will be others who enjoy glorious and/or surprising victories that will bring great joy to the population back home. And, surely, there will be some teams that disappoint. I already mentioned in yesterday's post about my predictions, and just how disappointing the French National team was in 2010, in South Africa.

We shall see all of that as the tournament plays itself out, with the opening game being today, between Croatia and the host nation, Brazil.

It is fitting, then, that these two national teams should be facing one another on this day, since I also wanted to write a blog entry about my own World Cup experiences.

No, I was not a player or a coach, or anything. But I was lucky enough to be a part of the World Cup in my own small way, and at two different times! Both times, it was my brother who managed, somehow, to get the tickers. And both times, we saw elimination round games - the quarterfinals in 1994, and the semifinals in 1998. And to this day, those remain some of my favorite memories still, and these memories are resurrected every time a new World Cup tournament rolls around, like this one.

So, here we go with my recollections of the two World Cup tournaments that I had the privilege of enjoying in the nineties. First, when the United States hosted the event in 1994, and then, when France hosted it in 1998:



Ah, France, 1998.

It was one of the best vacations that I ever had. The first time that I would visit France in nine years, and I swore at the time that it would never be that long between visits again (it's been fourteen years since my last visit). After all, France is one of the two nations that I enjoy citizenship in (the other being the United States).

Of course, I had wanted to visit France for some time before 1998, but it just had not happened. The circumstances never seemed right. I had talked about it with a few friends, a possible trip to Europe, but nothing ever seemed to pan out.

But two things happened to make the trip to 1998 a reality. First of all, my brother moved back to France in the spring of 1997, and was still living there by the summer of 1998. Secondly, he had (somehow) managed to obtain a pair of tickets to the World Cup semifinals, which is perhaps the equivalent of getting tickets to see an AFC or NFC Championship Game for the NFL. We did not know who was going to participate, but it would be a huge game (bigger, really, than the AFC or NFC Championships, because the World Cup has a bigger worldwide audience). With France hosting the World Cup, and my brother offering me to go if I was interested, plus crashing at his place for as long as my trip lasted, it was a go.

He had also managed to obtain World Cup quarterfinals tickets in 1994, back in the United States, which was really something. I had gone with him then, too. The two teams that we had seen were Germany, the defending World Cup champions at the time, and Bulgaria, a relative upstart team. It was obviously a big game, but neither of us had huge rooting interests in either team, although most people there were heavily favoring Germany, not surprisingly.

We arrived at the stadium, and we could hear the cheering inside. When we got to the seating area and caught our first glimpse of the interior of the stadium, it was an ocean of black, red, and gold - the colors of Germany. There was a small section that was pulling for Bulgaria, but it seemed clear that Germany was the de facto "home team", if you will. The Bulgarian section looked very small indeed, surrounded by that ocean of black, red, and gold. Oh, and the German fans were very vocal!

Indeed, through much of the first half, it looked like Germany was in their old, championship form, taking a 1-0 lead, then seeming to take a 2-0 lead with a goal that was taken back (justifiably, if I remember), although the reason for it escapes me now. But Bulgaria came storming back late in the game with two unanswered goals within about one minute of each other, and Germany was handed a stunning loss that ousted them from the tournament, and any hopes of a repeat. Bulgaria would go on to lose to Italy in the semifinal, and Italy would go on to lose to Brazil in the final.

It had been a very good, exciting game, and I felt privileged to have gone to such a huge game! The atmosphere had been electric, and I had then eyed France in 1998 for a possible next experience for World Cup. But a large part of me did not fully believe it. It would amaze me that my brother did actually get tickets, but once he did, and mentioned them, I did not hesitate. I had figured that the quarterfinals for USA '94 were a one-time shot, but the semifinals for World Cup (Coupe du Monde) France '98 would be a much bigger deal still!

So, in a sense, this was almost like tradition, in a weird, limited way. I jumped on the opportunity, and told my brother that of course, I'd be interested in going.

I was working a full-time security job at a mall for rich people at the time leading up to the trip, from October of 1997 until early July of 1998, while trying to finish up at BCC, just before the trip. It was a quiet job, and truth be told, I remember feeling happy while working there. For probably the longest duration, I was quite well disciplined financially for those times, and so I allowed myself the trip to indulge a bit (I would go overboard in this regard, as it turns out). We were offered occasional overtime opportunities at a building for the overnights very close to our worksite, which happened to be right on the Farleigh Dickinson University campus. I loved (and still love) college campuses, and signed up for a few shifts like that during weekends, to save up money for the trip. I remember working there, completely wrapped up in the Stephen King book that I was then reading - The Stand. Again, only pleasant memories, for the most part.

I obtained my passport (the old one had long ago expired), and eventually, the tickets to France. For a long time, I was wrestling on how long the trip should be. At first, it seemed four weeks would be good. But then, I thought of working full-time, and going to college at Rutgers, and how long it had taken me to get back to France, and so I opted for another week. Eventually, I would add yet another week, to make it six weeks there. Without a return trip being a sure thing for the immediate future, it seemed urgent to make sure this was a very good trip!

Finally, the time approached, and was there. I remember going on a hike with my friend a day or two before I left for France. It was very hot and humid out, and we had some cheap sodas that I had in the trunk of my car, and which were surprisingly cool. I remember just feeling excited about finally going back to Europe, and specifically to France. It seemed almost surreal!

The day finally came, and I took the trip. On the flight over there, I pretty much kept the window open the entire time, and it never fully got dark. It got mostly dark at times, but there was always at least a trace of light off in the northern horizon. Eventually, at what must have been an ungodly hour midway through the trip, it became fully daylight again. People were sleeping all around (my window screen was apparently literally the only one open in my section), and people requested that I shut it. It annoyed me, because I love flying on airplanes, and can stare out at the top of clouds literally for hours. It's such a rare experience, and it is so incredibly beautiful! It still puzzles me how so many others are not taken by this, and would rather sleep!

We got to France, finally, and one thing became obvious right away- I was really underdressed! Remember, it was really hot back in the US at the time (at least in New Jersey). But in France, it was cool, bordering on cold for July, and rainy.

Went through customs, and then met my brother. We took the subway back to his apartment, and once there, I unloaded all of the baggage. We may or may not have rested then, but after that, we went for a walk - my first steps back in Paris in almost a full decade! I had been just a teenager the last time, but now, I was a man (at least officially, although I certainly did not feel much like a man yet).

For the most part, we stuck to the touristy area nearest his apartment, which was Montmartre. Actually, we were on the hill below the Sacré- Cœur (Sacred Heart), the beautiful church all in white, with domes and an architectural style that is a little reminiscent almost of the Taj Majal, and dates back to the days of Napoleon.

I was still flying high for the next day, July 8th, which was the day of the big game. We headed over to the ultra-modern looking Stade de France in St. Denis (a neighboring suburb of Paris) in the hugely overpacked Metro system to see the game. Got there early, and watched the teams warm up. It was all so exciting! I already mentioned what happened in that game.

Of course, during any big sporting event like that (and this one was huge), there is an excited buzz in the crowd. This one was magnified several times over, because people could just feel how close the home team was to their first ever World Cup Final (and, hopefully, title)!

And it remained like that, with ooh's and aah's at the close calls and missed opportunities on both sides through an exciting, but scoreless, first half.

And then it happened. The scoreless tie was broken.

After the game, there was obvious excitement. The crowd was thick to leave the stadium, and people were in a celebratory mood, chanting and singing and relishing in the fact that the French national team was going further than they ever had before.

We did not want to go on the overcrowded suburbs again, and decided to walk back - a healthy walk. We bought some merguez (a spicy kind of sausage that is as familiar a site for vendors on Parisian sidewalks as hot dogs or pretzels are in New York) and frites (fries). I remember we ran into this weird guy while we were standing on line to get the fastfood, and they guy began to give a strange and lengthy dissertation on why Croatia should have won, finishing with, "Vive la Croatie, Vive la Croatie!"

Obviously, though, we were happy with the night's results. And, like the rest of France, we eagerly anticipated the World Cup Final between France and the defending champion, and perennial world superpower in the sport, Brazil. Obviously, that was going to be a tough game, and if memory serves correctly, Brazil was favored. But there was just a feeling that France would pull it out, somehow. Yes, Brazil's four previous titles, as well as the long list of accomplishments for the national team otherwise, was obviously most impressive, and not a little intimidating. But France had home field advantage, unofficially, and they had a lot of momentum. Through six games in the World Cup tournament, they had scored 12 goals, and allowed only two. Brazil had been good, but not as good as that, right? So France surely had a shot to take it all!

But the game was still four days away. There was an energy and enthusiasm evident throughout, and the sense that the World Cup was winding down amid many huge, very memorable events. My brother and I went to one of them: The Three Tenors at the Champ de Mars, right under the Eiffel Tower! Admittedly, it was not quite as idyllic as the video and cd of the event that was released. In truth, it was incredibly crowded, and unless you got there incredibly early, you were far back, and could barely make out the performers (Placido Domingo, the biggest of the performers physically, being the notable exception). I was glad we went, because it was an experience. But with people chatting throughout (never understood why people so often seem to make a point to go to events- and concerts in particular - and then talk throughout the performance), and vendors calling out to potential customers, trying to sell them their goods. I remember one guy continually shouting out "gateaux chocolat! Gateaux chocolat" (french for chocolate cake or cookies), and then, being reprimanded by an attentive concert goer, he mockingly began whispering the same thing while looking at the one who had shushed him.

So, yes, it was chaotic. But then again, the price (free) was right, and it just added to the excitement!

That was on July 10th. The game was scheduled for Sunday, July 12th. It was a long and memorable four days, and finally, game day was here. My brother and I went to visit some family earlier in the day, in a suburb called St. Pathus, and again, everyone just seemed to have that feeling that this thing was destined to happen, that France was going to find a way to win! "C'est sur!"

I wasn't so sure, and my nervousness grew.

We got a ride back into Paris, right by the same Stade de France that we had seen the semifinal game in just four short days earlier! It was packed like hell! So packed, in fact, that they just kind of dropped us off, and I think that we took the Metro back to the apartment (although we might have walked - I'm not longer entirely sure).

In any case, we were back in the apartment in plenty of time for the game, which was obviously the big thing for that evening. The whole country was watching, even people who were not normally big fans of the sport (or any sports, for that matter). An event like that really can transcend sports, and this one, indeed, would. At least for France, it would.

Finally, it was game time! The excitement was tremendous, and you could cut the tension with a knife. The game was tight, initially, with France getting some early opportunities. You just knew Brazil could explode at any moment, and it was nerve racking, but the French defense was holding up very well early on.

The scoreless deadlock ended in the 27th minute, when Zinedine Zidane, France's biggest star in the sport, scored off a header to draw first blood for France. The stadium sounded like it was going crazy and, outside of the apartment, you could hear plenty of people watching who were very excited, as well!

But there was still plenty of time left! It was barely midway through the first half! So, the game resumed, and everyone returned to the tension.

France's defense was holding up incredibly well, better than anyone could have predicted. Brazil inevitably had chances, but somehow or other, France kept shutting those chances down! With Zidane's goal, France's defense was making the lead hold up, at least so far!

And then, just before the half, the best case scenario for the French national team, as Zidane once again found the goal with yet another header! He grabbed his jersey and kissed it, to the roar of the crowd! With very little time left in the first half, France now held a relatively commanding 2-0 lead. Brazil was not able to get any sort of goal, and so France was able to shut them out through the first half, and the excitement and anticipation was building!

Still, you know Brazil is capable of exploding at any moment! They are just so good, and so well accomplished, that even a 2-0 lead was not very comfortable. Yet, France was sooo close to winning, everyone could just feel it! It was right there, and all that they really needed was another forty-five minutes of solid play - particularly on defense - and France would finally, for the first time ever, taste a world championship!

The second half began, and again, Brazil got some opportunities. But again, France also managed to hold them at bay, and the lead continued to hold up! The excitement was reaching a crescendo! The more minutes ticked by, and the closer to the end the game neared, and the more it seemed like this could really happen! Yes, Brazil was a very capable, dangerous team, and everyone knew that. These guys were the defending champions themselves, after all! But this game was not going according to their plans, certainly! France was playing so extremely well, possibly playing their very best game at precisely the right moment!

It came down to the final minutes, of course. A goal for Brazil would breathe new life into them, and surely, there would be a furious rally to try and get the tying goal. If France could just hold out for a little bit longer...

And then it happened! France's Emmanuel Petit, off a pass from...., suddenly broke open, and it was just him and the goaltender. He beat the goalie, and France was up 3-0, with mere seconds left! The crowd was jubilant, ecstatic, and France was now, finally celebrating! It would become the fifth nation to win a World Cup title!

I'll have to admit, that a part of me really wanted France to win in order to make this trip - which was incredible itself - feel more complete. It would really suck if they had lost. But, now, that was no longer a concern. They had played quite a few tight games - a 2-1 win over Denmark in the final round robin game, a very narrow (1-0 win over Paraguay, in what would be the first ever "Golden Goal" victory in World Cup history!), a shootout win over Italy in the quarterfinals after a scoreless tie, and finally, that 2-1 victory over Croatia that my brother and I were actually in attendance for!

That's me, the graduate of Bergen Community College (BCC) back in May of 1998. My future wife (and ex-wife!) is in my arms, a friend of mine is standing in the center with the red shirt, and my parents are on the left. After my dismal high school record, I was not entirely sure that this day would ever come. But by this point, I had graduated BCC and would be on my way to Rutgers University, which I would eventually graduate from in 2001.  But before that, I would take those six weeks off in France. 

I actually had hair back then, although the first experiment with shaving the old noggin completely bald would come within a few weeks. In the background, you can plainly see the beautiful Cathédrale de Notre-Dame on the Île de la Cité, with the famous bridges of Paris spanning the Seine. The Cathédrale de Notre-Dame celebrated it's 850th anniversary in 2013, and is considered the heart of the city of Paris. It also has the Crown of Thorns worn by Jesus himself, as well as the Reliquary of the True Cross and a nail of the crucifixion.

Our old apartments in Bois D'Arcy

My brother showing his support for L'équipe de France. This was taken on the night that we saw the thrilling semifinal between France and Croatia. It was tied at nil through the first half, but Croatia drew first blood with a goal in the second. France's defender, Lilian Thuram who had allowed that goal by Croatia's star, Davor Šuker, then responded by scoring for France less than a minute later and, a little later in the game, he would score yet again, more than making up for his earlier error, and greatly assisting France to their first ever World Cup Final Match! 

My brother sitting next to our old neighbours from Bois D'Arcy. This is some local park, the name of which escapes me. Someone was drumming on the other side of the lake somewhere, and you could hear it reverberating throughout on this day. 

My brother and our old neighbor. I believe that this is in the old neighbourhood at Bois D'Arcy.

My brother and our old neighbours (and their dog), by a local chateau (again, I'm not entirely certain which one this is, though). Wonderful memories from that visit back to our old home!

My brother sitting and relaxing at La Place des Vogues, Paris, 1998.