England v Argentina: Why it matters

Unbelievable as it may seem, it's now ten years since England met Argentina in their extraordinary second round clash at the World Cup in France. It was on June 30th 1998 in Saint Etienne that Europe and South America clashed in what would become an anarchic roller coaster ride for 120 minutes.

Argentina triumphed on penalties of course. But lurking beneath the surface of this encounter were two centuries of history, coupled with Argentina's complex and schizophrenic relationship with England, South America and Europe.

A few years ago, 'The Observer Sport Monthly' carried a thought-provoking article from the journalist John Carlin, who had lived in Argentina for 10 years. In the piece 'England v Argentina - A History' , the author provides a deeply fascinating insight into the background of what is arguably international football's most intense fixture.

From an English perspective the rivalry doesn't travel back too far in time. Think 1966, and England's infamous quarter-final encounter with Argentina, a match littered with niggling fouls.

There were two defining moments from that game: Rattin, the captain who refused to leave the pitch for 10 minutes after being sent-off; and England manager Alf Ramsey publicly referring to the South Americans as 'animals'. His fate was sealed in Latin America, especially as he prevented his players from swapping shirts after the match.

That England statistically committed more fouls than their opponents that afternoon has been conveniently forgotten.

Since 1966, England's games with Argentina have invariably been controversial, and when the Falklands factor is brought into the equation the tabloid storm intensifies, whipping the fans into a passionate fervour that few other rivalries can generate.

Diego Maradona in Mexico '86 didn't exactly help matters either...

WHY IT HURTS

The 'classico' seems to matter far more to Argentines than it does to the English, and there are four major factors which contribute to this.

A sense of displacement: Argentines often describe themselves as living 'at the arsehole of the world'. By that they pour out their frustration over what they see as their geographic isolation from Europe, especially since so many Argentines are of Italian descent. Thus, they see the game against England as a kind of 'European' rivalry.

Historical resentment: This is passed down from the conquistadors who were the original colonisers. Upset at losing their wealth and top-dog status as the world's foremost empire, they referred to the English as 'pirates'. This is still a common term of abuse today. Throw in the British 'invasions' of Beunos Aires in 1806 and 1807, plus the more recent Falklands conflict, and you are mixing an industrial alcohol cocktail.

Another factor which arouses bitterness is the social origin of the game in Beunos Aires. When the British imported football and started playing in an organised manner, they excluded the locals. Although the indigenous inhabitants of the capital would make the sport their own over time, the offence that the British expats caused has not been forgotten. Victory over England is comparable to the pupils teaching the masters a bloody lesson.

And then there is the passion. An overused word no doubt, but note what Carlin's article highlights:

"You see it in the crowds. The fans are not as passionate in Spain, Italy or Germany. They don't go to away matches in anything like the same numbers. And, talking of blood, they spill more of it in England and Argentina where football violence has traditionally been greater than anywhere else, where - even when there is no violence - you look at fans' faces during a game and you sense that the feelings they are experiencing during those 90 minutes are the one truly significant thing in their lives.

And for both countries that passion is intensified at international level, whereas in Spain and Italy regional rivalries dissipate the commitment to the national sides"

So now we can better appreciate just why an Argentina - England encounter is greeted with such relish and enthusiasm in the 'bottom' of the world.

Yet somewhere out there in the South Atlantic lies that mythical line between love and hate, resentment and attachment. For as much as the Argentines resent the English, they also admire them and their way of life. Many of the wealthier families could be said to be 'more English than the English'. Not a lifestyle conducive to the barrios though, and surely one that will fade over time.

I'm almost certain that we'll come back to this topic in the future. Until then, here's a reminder of that WC game in '98, as the students provided yet another sobering lesson for the teachers. Especially how to win on penalties.

Argentina v England '98

Motty Memories

So Spain are European Champions once more and the current squad has at long last fulfilled their potential. Yet when the TV was switched off tonight, a little piece of my life vanished with it.

John Motson, the definitive voice of the BBC's football coverage for over 35 years, is stepping down. This evening's final was his last major event as he retires from live broadcasting and shuffles off to the semi-retirement home.

Yet I feel that I've lost a relative, a surrogate father who was there for me when I was seven years old and first began to comprehend this strange little game where grown men ran after this round object on the field.


It was on May 16th 1979 when I had my first football memory. The weather was glorious, the FA Cup Final between Arsenal and Manchester United was on the BBC, and Motty was invited into our home for the first time. They would later call it the 'five minute final', as United came back from two goals down to equalise, only for the afro-headed Alan Sunderland to score the winner with seconds remaining.

It was Motty who captured the emotion, drama and fairytale ending for the nation- and for this seven year old boy in particular. As I grew older I felt that Salford's finest was watching over me, taking me to far away places with exotic names where my parents could never afford to tread. He educated me with an endless array of facts and statistics and introduced me to heroes who had wings on their heels and could fly through the air.


Ok, so he had THAT sheepskin coat, but don't most families have at least one relative who errs on the eccentric side of life?

MOTTY ARRIVES


He announced his arrival on mainstream consciousness in the year I was born. It was February 1972, and Motty was assigned to cover a much-delayed FA Cup replay between Hereford and Newcastle United. The expectation was that Newcastle would coast it and so Motty would occupy his usual wilderness slot on Match of the Day for the last five minutes.

But Newcastle were stunned as Hereford came back from a goal down to win 2-1, with Ronnie Radford unleashing an unforgettable 40 yard screamer that had Motty orgasmically screaming with delight.

"RADFORD AGAIN...OH WHAT A GOAL, WHAT A GOAL, RADFORD THE SCORER, RONNIE RADFORD, AND THE CROWD, THE CROWD ARE INVADING THE PITCH AND NOW IT WILL TAKE SOME TIME TO CLEAR THE PITCH."

The shot of hordes of parka-clad teenagers running onto the quagmire field in celebration is one of the FA Cup's definitive images. There was no fag-end slot for Motty now. The match was catapulted up the pecking order to the top of the programme and a new star was born

AT THE 1982 WORLD CUP

Watching the World Cup in Spain on TV was one of my fondest childhood experiences and Motty was there to describe it for me in his own inimicable way.

Growing up in Belfast, we were proud of Northern Ireland's achievements at the tournament and our 1-0 victory over the hosts on June 25th. Motty's commentary conveyed the drama and the tension to the watching millions back in the UK, and his description of NI's winning goal from a mistake by the Spanish keeper Arconada remains a treasure to the ear:

"Still Billy Hamilton he's got past Tendillo... and Arconada... ARMSTRONG!"

So good that 'Arconada... Armstrong!' became the title of a NI fanzine for many years.

Motty always maintained that the best game he ever covered was the Brazil/Italy clash at the same World Cup. That Brazil side, arguably the greatest side never to have won the competition, played some of the most spellbinding football ever seen in the tournament's history. Yet they lost 3-2 to Paolo Rossi's hat-trick and crashed out, leaving only a few precious mementoes for boys and young men to carry with them through to middle age.

And Motty's near hysterical commentary perfectly captured the tragedy of that sweltering July afternoon.

"Oh what a turn by Zico" is my personal favourite from that eternal classic.

HIS LEGACY

Not everybody likes John Motson and his style of commentary. His 'statistical fetish' and anorakish obsession with arcane triva are viewed by many as out of touch in the 21st century. And of course he has served up a sizeable helping of howlers over the years.

However even the most annoying relatives are mourned, and one thing that I'm certain of is that he will be missed. Motty is a national institution, a family treasure, and I for one will feel a moment or two of sorrow as yet another friend slips away, with only the memories left remaining.