England 1966: the World Cup where the ball bounced the Crown’s way | OneFootball

On the eve of every World Cup, the ghosts of history are quick to appear, reminding us that football is not only played with the feet, but also with cunning, impunity, and sometimes with the invisible hand of power. Needless to say, every World Cup brings its own “magic,” but also its memory, and there is always an echo from the past that refuses to be forgotten. Because there have been controversial World Cups, and then there’s England ’66. That old chapter that still smells of smoke, of the stale perfume of favoritism. Yes, that World Cup. The one of match-fixing, of flexible rules when convenient. The one of “where there’s a law, there’s a loophole,” with a British bow on top.

England 1966 was tailored like a custom-made suit for the hosts. The first blow came beforehand: the host nation was chosen thanks to a political maneuver by Stanley Rous, FIFA president and, conveniently, English. The argument? “It’s the centenary of the FA.” A pretext so flimsy it’s hard to believe it convinced anyone without tea in their veins. The real reason? To make sure the Cup stayed at home. Spain and Germany lost the vote almost without a fight.

While Brazil, Uruguay, Argentina, Portugal, Italy, and Hungary traveled like backpackers, sleeping little and playing every three days far from London, England rested five or six days between matches. “The protection for the English team is so obvious that it even makes the British uncomfortable,” wrote Gino Palumbo. He didn’t know the worst was yet to come. A “neutral” World Cup, but with the scent of five o’clock tea.

The fixture was the first wink. The referee appointments, the second. The English presented two referees, but five ended up appearing, plus an Irishman and a Scotsman. A British summit on a neutral field. Clarín had already reported months before: something smelled fishy at Wembley, and it wasn’t the grass.

Things got murkier in the quarterfinals: representatives from Argentina, Spain, Uruguay, and the USSR had been called to witness the referee draw. Everyone arrived on time, but the draw had already been done. Only Germany and the African Confederation had been let in.

Argentina was handed the German Rudolf Kreitlein to face England. And that’s where another shameful chapter began. Minute 35: Antonio Rattín is sent off. The reason? “He looked at me with bad intent,” said Kreitlein. Just like that. No cards, since they didn’t exist at the time. No explanation. No decorum.

Rattín, outraged, sat on Queen Elizabeth’s red carpet and squeezed the corner flag that bore the British flag. Ten minutes passed before the Argentine left the field, as he was asking for a translator to understand the reason for the red card. The English sent him off with shouts of “animals.” With ten men, the team did what it could and more. But the referee ignored a blatant offside, let play continue, and Geoff Hurst made it 1-0 to send England through.

FIFA fined the AFA and tried to give lessons in discipline. Hypocrisy, in those days, wore a suit and tie. Meanwhile, Brazil, the reigning champion, was kicked out: Pelé was battered by Bulgarians and Portuguese under the calculated passivity of British or allied referees. Uruguay didn’t escape either: two sent off and a made-up penalty in favor of Germany. All signed by Finney, another British referee.

The semifinals were arranged. Portugal was supposed to play in Liverpool. England decided, just like that, no: everyone to Wembley. And they won. What a surprise.

The final was the last scene of the theater, and if Argentina was put to sleep, Germany was vaccinated.The match was 2-2 in extra time when Hurst, Hurst again, shot, it hit the crossbar and bounced outside the goal, outside. The whole stadium saw it, the whole world saw it. You watch it today and you still think the same.

But the Soviet assistant Bakhramov raised his flag.Years later he confessed:“I didn’t see the ball go in, but Dienst left me the responsibility. What was I supposed to do?”

What was he supposed to do. When the cards are marked, the dealer always wins. That time, England played their hand. The Cup was served at the English table before the “capricious one” even rolled, the host imposed his rules and drank the finest wine from the most coveted cup, in sips and calculated, like a drink only they knew how to savor, the taste of injustice.

This article was translated into English by Artificial Intelligence. You can read the original version in 🇪🇸 here.