Michael Batson

The Italians arrived in Mexico in 1970 as European champions having eventually beaten Yugoslavia 2-0 on home soil two years earlier, and after winning the semi-final against the Soviet Union by the toss of a coin. Their playing ranks included two of the best attacking midfield players in Europe in Sandro Mazzola and Gianni Rivera, rivals from the two great Milan clubs; the latter being voted the 1969 European Footballer of the Year. They had an outstanding forward in Gigi Riva: he was powerful, he was quick with a great shot, and had an eye for goal. Riva has been described as the prototype of the modern player and so far ahead of his time there still aren’t many like him. The team was captained by Giacinto Facchetti, a tall, fast, mobile, and free-ranging goalscoring defender who, like Brazil’s Carlos Alberto, was a forerunner of today’s wingback. Their defence was founded on arguably football’s most infamous tactic, the catenaccio, a system with many fathers but nurtured in Italy by some of the great managers, practised across their leagues, and first taken into Europe to win continental silverware by the Milan clubs; the blue and the red.

The bulk of the Italian squad for the 1970 tournament came from just two clubs: Internazionale (known as Inter) and Calcio Cagliari (Cagliari) from the island of Sardinia, with six players each. During the 1960s, under their legendary coach Helenio Herrera, Inter became probably the greatest exponents of catenaccio. Inter played catenaccio as Herrera intended, not the negative stereotype the system later became with other teams, but a system which created greater flexibility for counterattacks. The team with the fabled black and blue stripes (I Nerazzurri, also known as La Beneamata or the Well-Cherished One) were transformed into La Grande Inter by their manager, winning trophies home and abroad including back-to-back European Cups. For their part, Inter’s great cross-town rivals, Associazione Calcio Milan (known as AC Milan or just Milan), contributed three players to the 1970 squad; SD Torino, SSC Napoli, and ACF Fiorentina two each; while modern powerhouse Juventus, the team of Gianni Agnelli of FIAT, Europe’s largest family-owned business, had just one player. The average age of the Italian squad was almost 27 years.

Cagliari enjoyed a golden period in Serie A from 1964-76, heights not revisited since. In 1967 they played in the USA’s fledging league for one season as the Chicago Mustangs for 12 matches, where Roberto Boninsegna was the league’s top scorer. The club first emerged as serious Serie A title contenders in 1968-69 narrowly missing out on the scudetto (Italian for “little shield” the tricolour worn by Italian sports clubs that won the annual championship of their respective sport in the previous season) to Fiorentina. Their squad contained players like goalkeeper Enrico (Ricky) Albertosi, defender Pierluigi Cera, midfielder Commardo Niccolai, and forwards Roberto Boninsegna (who moved to Inter in 1969), Sergio Gori, Angelo Domenghini, and the hitman himself, Riva. The following season 1969-70, in the lead-up to the World Cup, they won their first Serie A title with only two games lost, 11 goals conceded (the fewest in any major European league to date) and Riva as the league’s top scorer once more.

Italy’s manager in 1970 was the venerable Ferruccio Valcareggi, well-liked by his players who viewed him as something akin to a father-figure. Born in Trieste, Valcareggi’s playing career was as an attacking right-sided midfielder, known as a mezzala in Italian football jargon, in a playing career spanning 27 years. He had spells with some of the giants like Fiorentina and Milan, but he was never capped at international level. He took over as national team manager from Edmondo Fabbri after Italy’s ignominious group stage exit at the 1966 World Cup which included being beaten 1-0 by novices North Korea, who were effectively an army team. Valcareggi had then been a national team assistant under Fabbri, a role he held alongside the great Helenio Herrera, but later on his own. Italy’s team on that fateful day at Ayresome Park in Middlesbrough against North Korea included four of the players who would feature in the World Cup final four years later – Albertosi, Facchetti, Mazzola, and Rivera.

Valcareggi guided Italy to victory in the 1968 European Championship in Rome the final being played over two legs. The first match in front of 68,817 was drawn 1-1 with Dragan Džajić of Red Star Belgrade, arguably one of the greatest European wingers, opening the scoring before Domenghini equalised with a superb free-kick. The replay was won 2-0 by Italy with first Riva and then Pietro Anastasi scoring. Italy qualified for Mexico in a group that included East Germany and Wales. In World Cup qualifying, Italy were undefeated scoring 10 goals and conceding seven, two of these came in a 2-2 draw with the Germans. Riva scored seven of their goals including a hattrick against Wales in Rome. When appointed national team manager in 1966, Valcareggi had 14 years managerial experience behind him including stints at former his club Fiorentina and at Atalanta (twice). Like most Italian managers and players, he was familiar with and practised the catenaccio, a defensive system also used by the national team, which deployed a sweeper (libero) in behind two man-marking centre-backs.

Italian club teams playing catenaccio dominated Europe in the 1960s with Milan and their cross-town rivals Inter. Serie A was the place to be as a player then, in the same way the English Premier League is today. Under Valcareggi, Italy lost only six games in eight years. But Italy also became renown as low scorers, adept at defending slender leads, grinding out results in largely dull matches. Not aesthetically pleasing, they typified the school of futebol de resultaclos, the pragmatic win-at-all-costs approach with technically adept players.

Catenaccio was essentially a tactic for defence and then counter-attacking but this was to prove difficult to play at altitude. Most of their players had no idea what it was like to play above 2000m. Their star midfielder, or one of them, Mazzola, complained that after one move players got tired quickly. Fortunately, he and his Inter team had been on tour in Mexico so had found the solution - short quick passes. In the group stages at the World Cup in Mexico, Italy scored just once in their first three games. Though undefeated, they were widely criticised by the media for their unimaginative style of play and earned the ire of the Mexican fans who jeered them at matches, often throwing missiles and cheering for their opponents.

Unlike every other team at the World Cup, Italy arrived in Mexico with 23 players, not the usual required 22. Pietro Anastasi, then of Juventus and nicknamed “Pete the Turk” by fellow Sicilians, who had scored in the 1968 European Championship final against Yugoslavia, had appendicitis, which the team only found out about in Italy on the morning they were supposed to leave Rome. So Boninsegna and Pietro (Pierino) Prati of Milan, a striker who could play anywhere along the front-line and known domestically as "Pierino the Pest" joined instead of Anastasi. So, 22 players had become 23. At the time Prati was injured, but was called up anyway and in the end, never played a game at the tournament. Then, Giovanni Lodetti, a defensive midfielder of Milan (he moved to Sampdoria later the same year) was told he was no longer part of the squad as he had also been very ill, so went home.

Italy in Mexico were drawn in Group Two along with Uruguay, Sweden, and minnows Israel, making their first ever appearance at the World Cup. Games were played at Puebla, known as the City of Tiles, at an altitude of 2135m, 100kms southeast of Mexico City and at Toluca, higher still at 2667m, and 63kms southwest of the capital. The group looked likely a battle for top spot between Italy and Uruguay, who between them had won the first four World Cups. Sweden, with a few quality players playing professionally abroad one of which, Roger Magnusson – noted for his dribbling ability - was refused permission to play at the World Cup by his Italian club Juventus unless the Swedish FA picked up his wages, which they refused to do. Israel consisting mainly of amateurs making their World Cup debut made up the group.

Italy, along with Uruguay and Brazil at the 1970 World Cup, had the opportunity for footballing immortality – as two-time winners of the Jules Rimet Trophy they could, with a third victory, keep the trophy for ever. Eventually the records show the “Azzurri” (the “Blues”) were beaten finalists, succumbing to arguably the greatest team ever to win the World Cup. Italy’s 1970 World Cup progress demonstrated, according to one writer; “The great Italian tradition of starting a tournament notoriously slow and showing the best for the knockout stages.” Italy progressed to the final with their customary, insidious efficiency scoring just once in their first three matches then four goals in the quarter-final, and then four more goals against West Germany in the semi-final in a game dubbed “Partita del Secolo”, the “Game of the Century”.

 Italy faced Sweden in their opening match in Toluca with the Scandinavian side appearing at their first World Cup finals since losing in the final at home to Brazil 12 years earlier. Italy took an early lead when, in the 11th minute, Domenghini’s shot was fumbled by the Swedish goalkeeper, Ronnie Hellstrom. At high altitude, the ball moves faster than some players expected, and it caused all sorts of problems for goalkeepers. Other keepers suffered a similar fate as the ball behaved erratically in the thin air. The goal was good news for Italy, who then sat back and defended their lead, much to the rising ire of the largely Mexican crowd. Sadly, for Hellstrom, he was dropped for the next match against Israel and sat in the stands. He did not play another match in Mexico but fared much better four years later where, after a stellar tournament, he was signed by German club Kaiserlautern.

In their next match the two group favourites faced off in what one writer called the most predictable goal-less draw in World Cup history. ‘Their defensiveness on a beautiful afternoon in Puebla’ wrote the Daily Telegraph’s David Miller, ‘could have been increased only by the digging of trenches across the pitch and the piling of sand-bags.’ On the field before kick-off, Mazzola said he looked at Uruguay’s Julio Montero (whose son Paolo went on to play for Juventus). “When players look at each other a certain way they understand each other.” The game started very calmly; it was very slow. Then Bertini took a shot. Montero then came up to Mazzola and said in Spanish “What are you doing?” Both teams were thinking of qualifying and in saving energy for the next stage.

Against Israel, with qualification already assured, Italy managed another goal-less draw but finished the top of the group despite scoring just a solitary goal. Though against Israel they had two goals disallowed (by Domenghini and one by Riva) and Riva also missed two easy chances, so in hindsight, had things gone differently they might have hit four. Uruguay finished runners-up having scored twice having squeaked past Sweden to qualify on goal difference. The top two sides having managed a paltry three goals between them in their opening three matches.

For the knockout stage, the top two teams in Group Two would face the top two teams from Group One, the host’s group. Mexico and the Soviet Union finished equal on points and with the same goal difference, so FIFA statutes ruled the group winner would be decided by a coin toss. The Soviets had been in this situation before. In 1968 they drew 1-1 with Italy in the semi-final of the European Championship and the Italians went through to the final after winning the toss. In a twist of fate, this time they won the toss and stayed at the Azteca, while Mexico, much to their annoyance, would travel to Toluca to face Italy at the Estadio Nemesio Díez, nicknamed “La Bombonera” due to its shape, and one of the oldest football stadiums in Mexico. Italy was familiar with the ground having already played Israel and Sweden there.

Mexico were one of the form teams heading into the second stage; having scored five goals and conceded none. They were unhappy at having to move from their base at the Azteca, but the change still gave them home advantage. Toluca was the highest venue in the competition – at 2667m above sea level, it was almost half-a-kilometre higher even than Mexico City. The Italians would have to deal not just with a small ground packed with vocal home fans but a lung-busting atmosphere as well. From inside the changing rooms the Italians could hear the home crowd outside. “We had a lot of apprehension,” said Mazzola. “The dressing rooms in 1970 were not like those of today. You could hear and feel everything. So, going onto the pitch was a real release because at least we could respond on the field to the support of the Mexicans. We could prove what we could do to the host team.”

Valcareggi asserted before the quarter-final with Mexico, that the goalless draws with Uruguay and Israel in the preliminary round had been the result of psychological pressure following the failure in 1966: that from now on his team would come out into the open. Against Mexico they did, but only after the scare of being a goal down within a quarter-of-an-hour. Mexico had never reached the quarter-final before, but they were riding a wave of confidence and their ambitions rose even further when they took the lead through José Luis González “La Calaca” (the colloquial Mexican name for a skeleton) after just 13 minutes. Italy soon recovered and in the second half there was only one team in it. On the ground with the highest altitude, the heat intimidating, the crowd booed Italy’s every kick. Almost as many people were listening on transistor radios outside La Bombonera as were watching inside. The crowd erupted when Mexico took the lead, the first goal Italy had conceded so far. Then, halfway through the first half, Gustavo Peña put the ball into his own net when he deflected a shot by Domenghini, and Italy was level. Having scored just the solitary goal in the group stages, Italy’s first goal in the knockout round came courtesy of the opposition.

Rivera came on early in the second half for Mazzola, who had burnt himself out trying to operate in both penalty areas, and proceeded to mesmerize the Mexicans. The night before the game, Mazzola had been sick with stomach ‘flu, more universally known as “Montezuma’s revenge”. For the first time in the tournament, a game was dictated by the ability of one man; the Mexicans did not know how to answer Rivera other than with the crudest tackling upon which the referee, turned largely a benevolent eye. Within minutes he had created the equalizer for Riva to sweep the ball into the net. Then, two more goals came in the space of 10 minutes, the first for Rivera and then a second for Riva, thrust Mexico beyond the point of possible recovery. For the first time Riva had been given the service which had enabled him to manoeuvre into scoring positions with any regularity. For the fervent Mexican supporters, once their team was eliminated, they switched their allegiance to Brazil.

 In Mazzola and Rivera, Italy had two of the best attacking players in Europe but coach Valcareggi struggled to find a way to fit them both in his side. Mazzola played all three games of the opening round and Rivera was limited to one second half appearance in the final game against Israel, replacing Angelo Domenghini at half time. Valcareggi then decided on a novel idea for the knockout rounds – the staffetta, or relay. The move, as controversial as it was tactical, saw the Inter forward playing in the first half before being replaced by the Milan player. At the beginning of the World Cup, Rivera was to play from the start and Mazzola had to go on the bench. But Rivera had not been well. So, Mazzola had played the first game and Italy won, so it stuck but was not popular. “The staffetta was a totally political choice” said Rivera; “there’s no way to justify it technically. It doesn’t make any sense to decide what substitutions you will make before the game starts.”

On 17 June Italy travelled to meet West Germany in the semi-final in front of 102,000 spectators at the Estadio Azteca. What unfolded was a spectacular end-to-end encounter that turned out to be one of the most exciting football matches ever played and became known as “The Game of the Century”. It was a seven-goal thriller which saw Italy leading one-nil until the last minute of regulation time before the Germans equalised. Five goals were then scored in extra time including the winner by Rivera who again had come on as a substitute, just one minute after Muller, scoring his second of the match, had drawn the game level at three-all. The classic analogy for the match was one of two punch drunk boxers slugging it out, each too tired to deliver the knock-out blow.

Berti Vogts, West Germany’s full-back, said that they were very tired after extra-time in their quarter-final against England. Sepp Maier, the German goalkeeper, said “the Mexicans loved us” and once again favoured a team over Italy, but he said that the referee, a Japanese with a Peruvian passport, favoured the Italians being “entirely on their side.” After going ahead in just the eight minute, Italy shut-up shop but instead handed the initiative to the Germans for whom Eintracht Frankfurt’s Jürgen Grabowski started for the first time. Sometimes called the world’s best substitute after he had a devastating impact when introduced in the group stages, it was Grabowski who delivered the cross for Karl-Heinz Schnellinger, who ironically was then playing for Milan and had never previously scored for his national team, to volley home in the last second of the 90th-minute. Schnellinger admitted later he thought the game was over and was heading for the dressing rooms then at one end of the pitch (FIFA would later determine these should always be in the middle for future tournaments).

There was a lot of injury time added on for Beckenbauer’s dislocated shoulder, the foul the Germans thought should be a penalty but Yamaguchi the referee determined this to be just a free-kick. There being no more substitutes, West Germany had used their allotted two, so Beckenbauer played on with a dislocated shoulder, his arm strapped to his chest. The game moved into extra time and exhaustion, both mental and physical, soon became as much a factor – as skill or determination. The conditions were taking their toll. The upshot of that was a see-saw 90 minutes of football that had the fans on their feet, breathless and astonished. In the end Boninsegna pushed through to the goal line on the left and then cleverly played the ball back to Rivera, who sent Maier the wrong way and scored the fifth and decisive goal of extra time, and the Italians were through. Later a plaque was placed in front of the stadium to commemorate the match. Despite defeat, West Germany returned home where 60,000 welcomed them back to Frankfurt.

Italy’s opponents in the final were the incomparable Brazilians who had beaten their South American neighbours Uruguay 3-1 in the semi-final, their first meeting in a World Cup tournament since 1950, when Uruguay shocked Brazil 2-1 in the giant Maracanã to win the World Cup for the second time. A calamitous outcome then for Brazil (they had minted coins, published newspaper headlines and composed a song to celebrate victory in advance). So profound was the impact they gave it a name—Maracanaço in Portuguese, roughly translated as “The Agony of Maracanã”—an event that has never been properly exorcised from Brazil’s national psyche.

Brazil was arguably the best footballing side at the Mexico World Cup and are widely regarded as the best team ever to become world champions, but they also had some things go in their favour. Both semi-finals in Mexico were supposed to be played at the Azteca, but Brazil had lobbied FIFA to shift the venue to Guadalajara, and without their knowledge an injury-hit Uruguay were forced to fly and bus from their base near Puebla. Uruguay were not even invited the meeting that this was decided. When they arrived the day before the game all the air-conditioners in their hotel were broken. They received off the field help in the group stage too. The night before their second group stage match against reigning world champion England, the match likely to decide who topped the group, over-exuberant Mexican fans kept up a cacophony outside the hotel where the England team was staying – even banging on the room doors inside the hotel – ensuring the England players got little sleep. At one-point infuriated England players were seen chasing the offenders down corridors.

The Jalisco Stadium where Brazil played all five matches leading up to the final had the best playing surface of all the stadiums used for the World Cup, so suited the Brazilian passing game and their orchestrator-in-chief, Gérson. Only one of the dressing rooms at the stadium had air-conditioning, so in the early hours before kick-off against England, Brazil went to the ground to secure it. In the heat of Guadalajara in summer, Brazil cooled down in comfort while England made do with chunks of ice. Brazil also had the fervent support of Mexican fans. Santos played in Mexico every year, and local fans were devoted to Santos and to Brazil. When the team first arrived in Mexico, Brazil played the local Guadalajara team in front of a cheering capacity 70,000 crowd, the whole city took the day off. The posters on every street corner were Hoy! No trabajamos porque vamos a ver Pelé. ‘No work today – we’re off to see Pelé.’ This was in stark contrast to the locals’ reaction to England, who were seen as cold and unfriendly. Brazil was also accused by their opponents of feigning injury in matches, a tactic designed to break up the rhythm of the opposing side, especially if they were enjoying a dominant period in a match.

After a slow scoring start to the tournament Italy had scored four in each of their last two games with three of those coming in extra-time in the semi-final. They were hitting top form in the knockout stages and were to face a rampant Brazil. The Brazilians scored 23 goals to qualify for the World Cup, then put four past Czechoslovakia in their first group match, three past the Romanians, four past Peru and another three against Uruguay. Coming into the final they had 17 goals in total in five matches including the solitary goal against outgoing champions England. But they also leaked goals too, often conceding early on in matches. The Mexican newspapers said the Italians would be hammered. Valcareggi told his team they had nothing to fear from Brazil, but his players were not naïve; they knew the enormity of the task ahead of them. “Our coach planned well for our games,” said Mazzola. “He was very close to us. He told us several times that the seleção [Seleção Canarinho or ‘Canary Squad’, Brazil’s national team named after their bright yellow jersey] was not so strong, but we obviously had doubts about this … but it was his way of encouraging us … we also wanted to get a kind of revenge on the [Italian] federation because we had found out that they had booked us a return on the day after the group stage had ended. When we found that out, we were angry.”

Italy had played an extra 30 minutes in their semi-final, so had to make the greater recovery. There were logistical issues. The final was played at noon local time, an unusual time “We weren’t used to playing at that time,” said Albertosi. According to their goalkeeper, Italy were scheduled to fly home immediately after the match ended, going straight to the airport and not returning to their hotel so had to pack everything for their flight before leaving for the stadium, and only started thinking about the game on the bus to the Azteca. Other reports, however, have them at an after-match dinner though memories can do strange things. The day of the World Cup final dawned overcast and wet. The night before the city was drenched in a thunder storm. The day began more suited to an umbrella than a sombrero. The final, the first ever televised live and in colour – it was the start of the satellite age - was watched by 600 million viewers worldwide. Even Pope John VI, an Italian, was torn between the nation of his birth and the world’s largest Catholic nation. The final proved a classic confrontation: South America versus Europe; New World against Old; the exuberance of Brazil’s samba football against the calculating coldness of the Azzurri.

Gérson, Brazil’s chain-smoking generalissimo, said that he was much happier to be playing the tactically rigid Italians than the more flexible Germans. “It would have been much more difficult for us to confront the German system and their talented players,” he admitted. And so, it proved to be, the first half was like the semi-final with Uruguay, a story of Brazil being contained for the first half and looking vulnerable and even worried, but finally throwing off the chains of obstructive, destructive tactics and storming to a thrilling victory. It was good football, good drama, and excellent for the future of the game, in that the heroes triumphed over the villains. Not that Italy were more villainous than many other teams, merely that some claimed they are highly skilled in the art of the “total” tackle, which seldom harms the opponent but leaves him prostrate. In this sense, although Italy were penalised for many fouls, the final was never vicious.

Despite Valcareggi’s careful planning Italy started the match by getting their marking wrong. “We put a great midfielder like Bertini to mark Pelé and a defender, Burgnich, to mark Rivellino, who played in midfield. So that left us shorthanded in the centre of the park and we had to do an awful lot of running,” recalled Mazzola. “The players asked the coach to change the marking, but he only did so once the ball had gone out on the left side of the field.” Tostão took the thrown-in to Rivellino which led to Brazil’s first goal. “When Brazil saw that Bertini had left Pelé and Burgnich had left Rivellino,” Mazzola added, “Rivellino crossed it and Pelé was on his own as Burgnich was still going to cover him. Pelé … was practically unmarked. If he had had someone on him then it might have much harder for him to get up.” It was a tremendous leap, a thunderbolt header immortalised in classic photos by Popperfoto, and was the 100th goal Brazil had scored in World Cup finals. “It seemed as though he [Pelé] could hang in the air as longs as he wanted” said Facchetti of the game’s first goal.

The Italians were the slightly more dominant side in the first half, and they got the goal their pressure deserved eight minutes before the break. Brazil had looked suspect in defence and on this occasion were far too casual. Brito’s slack header went to Clodoaldo, who gave the ball away as he nonchalantly tried to back-heel midway in his own half. Boninsegna nipped in and although Brito dashed back, and Félix ran out of his goal, they couldn’t stop the Italians drawing level. Part of the reason for containing Brazil was Facchetti’s hold on Jairzinho. The Inter man was the biggest, fastest fullback the winger, nicknamed Furacão (the “Hurricane”) by the faithful on the terraces of the Maracanã, had come up against to date in the tournament, so was unable to out muscle or outpace his opponent. As the match wore on however, this played into Brazil’s hands. They employed their tactic, devised beforehand, whereby Jairzinho would drift infield knowing that where he went Facchetti was sure to follow. This freed up space on the flank for the marauding Carlos Alberto to exploit; ultimately leading to the Brazil’s fourth and final goal scored by the Brazilian captain to finish off a move that went end-to-end, side-to-side following nine passes with a wonderful thunderbolt that gave Albertosi no chance.  One of the Brazilian backroom team, Carlos Parreira, then their fitness coach but later national manager for the 1994 and 2006 World Cups, went to see Italy play West Germany in the semi-final, a scouting mission. He gave a team talk on the eve of the final. He had taken lots of photos, displaying these in sequence across the wall about 50 of them, so the players could see how Italy marked man-to-man in that match.

After the break Brazil almost scored in exactly that fashion when Pelé, “coming in like a toboggan” was inches away from connecting with a Carlos Alberto cross as Jairzinho moved infield. Then Rivellino hit the bar on the hour mark. “We played the game with Brazil until 65 minutes, or rather, until then we had been better than Brazil,” said Dominghini. “Then they were lucky to make the score 2-1 and then three minutes later they made the third. After that they gave us the run-around.” Mazzola reckoned Italy matched Brazil for an hour. “One of our mistakes was leaving Gérson free in midfield and he organised the play. When it went to 2-1, we realised we didn’t have the strength to mount a fightback [because of the semi-final extra time]. Some players were passing blood [after the game] because of the strain.” The third goal sealed the game. Once again it was Jairzinho, who never seemed to tire for a second throughout the whole tournament; who did the damage. Alcides Ghiggia scored in all four Uruguay games in 1950 and Just Fontaine scored in all six of France’s matches in 1958, including the third-place play-off. But Jairzinho’s 71st-minute strike meant he became the first man to score in all six games and in every round, including the final.

“The psycho-physical collapse happened … when Jairzinho scored. It was then that we realised that there was nothing we could do,” said Albertosi. And then came Brazil’s crowning moment, when Carlos Alberto crashed home a spectacular fourth with just four minutes remaining. Eight Brazilian players touched the ball in the build-up to what is still considered one of the great team goals of all time. The goal is often described as an example of the spontaneity that seemingly characterises Brazilian football. But the Brazilians knew that was only half the story. The fourth goal, they said, was as much about planning and organisation as creativity. Looking back Albertosi recounted, “It stayed a long time at 1-1 and so Valcareggi didn’t want to change things immediately. Then when we went 2-1 behind, we made the first change. Then at 3-1 Valcareggi told Rivera to go on.” Did the coach wait too long to make the change? “In my opinion Valcareggi hadn’t noticed that there was so few minutes remaining,” said Burgnich.  Italy even lost out on the match ball, as goal scorer Domenghini had it slapped out of his hands on the pitch after the match by of all people, Paulo Cézar, who was a non-playing substitute. At the post-match banquet, the two almost came to blows.

After the final was over, the Brazilians attended the official party at the Hotel Isabel Maria (now the Sheraton) in the centre of Mexico City, and danced to the early hours. They then went back home to be feted by an adoring public in parades before rapturous crowds through the main cities. General Médici, the country’s dictator, aware of the value of sporting success for an unpopular government, invited them for a photo shoot with him in Brasilia. In Rio it was carnival and chaos. Streets were jammed with people shouting, singing, dancing, and drinking; 44 people were killed and 1800 injured during two days of celebrations. Brazil’s strict customs laws were suspended for the players who were told by the CDB (Brazilian Sports Confederation) they were free to bring back as many gifts as they could carry.

Meanwhile, back in Italy, the defeated finalists were confronted in a disused hangar by reporters focussed on how little time Rivera spent on the pitch – just six minutes. “When we returned to Italy, to Rome, we players had been taken to a shed and tried by journalists … some officials had even been attacked, there had been injuries,” recalled Domenghini. He compared the final with how the semi-final against West Germany had played out. “Rivera had come off the bench and we had won. The staffeta had worked against West Germany in the semi-final. It was Rivera who scored the decisive goal. I don’ think he [Rivera] enjoyed playing only six minutes.”

The decision not to include an in-form player who had been vital in the previous two matches baffled Italian fans, who took their anger out on Valcareggi and his backroom staff. There was also indignation about the organisation. “We never understood the fans resentment of Valcareggi” said Albertosi. “Taking it out on the coach was not right … Valcareggi led Italy to the final after eliminating West Germany in the semi-final in a match still considered the most beautiful game of the century. In 1968 Valcareggi led us to the European championship … when it came to Valcareggi there was just no gratitude.” “In Italy only first place counts”, said Domenghini. “They should have congratulated us for the World Cup we had played. Instead, it was as if it hadn’t happened. Unfortunately, only those who finish first count.”

Valcareggi remained national coach until the next World Cup in West Germany in 1974 but stepped down after Italy, despite being among the favourites, were again knocked out in the group stage. After standing down as Italy’s manager, he continued to coach at the top level until 1985. He died in Florence in 2005, aged 86. Italy have gone on to win two more World Cups in 1982 and again in 2006. In 1994 they lost yet another World Cup final against Brazil, but this time the South Americans won by the least Brazilian method – a penalty shootout following a nil-all draw – with a team that featured two midfield destroyers in Dunga and Mauro Silva (nicknamed “the Wardrobe’). In 2022, over 50 years since their first triumph since Valcareggi was national coach, in a tournament delayed by a global pandemic, they again were crowned European champions.

Thanks (mainly) to:
Andrew Downie; The Greatest Show on Earth (the Inside Story of the Legendary 1970 World Cup); Arena; Edinburgh; 2021.
David Miller; World Cup 1970; Heinemann (for the Football Association) London, 1971.
Garry Jenkins; The Beautiful Team – In Search of Pelé and the 1970 Brazilians;
Simon and Schuster, London 1998.