My World Cup Memories - USA '94 & France Trip 1998 - Coupe du Monde

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.