Given the general tenor of the build-up, the overnight kick-off of the World Cup in Qatar was predictably dispiriting. The ground was roughly a quarter full by the end of Ecuador’s 2-0 victory against Qatar, the first time a host nation has lost its opening game, in which it managed not a single shot on target.
The tournament is a perfect storm of controversies — the horrific conditions in which the stadiums were built, resulting in allegedly thousands of deaths of migrant labourers; Qatar’s stance on LGBTQIA+ issues; the energy-sapping heat; the COVID-induced delay meaning the World Cup interrupts the world’s other major leagues mid-season. Going further back, there are allegations Qatar “bought” their votes to host in the first place — it was reported a Qatar official paid more than $5 million to secure support for the bid back in 2014.
FIFA president Gianni Infantino accused European media of “hypocrisy” over its almost universally bad coverage of the decision to award the hosting rights to Qatar. The fact he did so via what felt like improvised poetry truly added a surreal dimension: “Today I feel Qatari. Today I feel Arab. Today I feel African. Today I feel gay. Today I feel disabled. Today I feel a migrant worker.” Reminiscent of Donald Trump’s defence of Vladimir Putin in 2017 (“You think our country’s so innocent?”), that there was a grain of truth in the hypocrisy charge didn’t really change much.
But is this a uniquely bad World Cup? Looking into the archives, there have been plenty of cooked moments.
1938 was a great tournament if you love fascism
For anyone looking for a World Cup that matches 2022 for levels of real-world drama rendering the whole thing palpably absurd, it’s 1938. The tournament was happening in the build-up ahead of World War II — the Spanish Civil War was still raging and Nazi Germany had annexed Austria months before the tournament kicked off. The teams had played a “friendly” some weeks after the Anschluss, as it was known, which Austria won 2-0 (there are persistent theories that one of the scorers, the great Matthias Sindelar, paid for his over-enthusiastic celebration with his life nine months later).
The abolition of Austria handily meant Germany took many members of what was Austria’s greatest-ever team. Regardless, the Germans were only able to make it to the round of 16. But the Axis still had reasons to smile, with Benito Mussolini’s Italy — wearing black shirts as their away strip and doing a fascist salute before every game — running out as champions. With the outbreak of war, it was to be the final tournament for 12 years.
The disgrace of Gijon
Relations between West Germany and Austria had clearly mended by 1982, and the teams were scheduled to play the final game of the group, which they shared with Algeria and Chile. The maths of the group were such that both teams knew an Austrian win or a draw would knock West Germany out, and a win of two goals or more would knock Austria out. After 10 minutes of all-out attack, Horst Hrubesch put West Germany ahead. From there the game descended into an American parody of how football is played; both teams passed the ball soporifically between defenders, punted aimless long balls into the opposition’s half, and grandly flailed the ball wide whenever this system broke down sufficiently for a goal-scoring chance to be created.
The West German commentator eventually refused to continue calling the game, and the Austrian commentator instructed viewers to turn off their television sets. The Spanish crowd chanted for Algeria, the victims of this robbery (they also chanted “Let them kiss!” of the two teams, which is pretty funny). Local paper El Comercio printed the match report in its crime section. The game resulted in a change to World Cup scheduling so that no two teams could go into a final match knowing exactly what result would get both of them through.
The Maradona of it all
We will never see the like of Argentina’s Diego Maradona again, on almost every level. Even if you discount that he has as strong a claim as anyone to the title “greatest player of all time”, he courted scandal throughout his career, and the four World Cup tournaments he played in each have their moments. In 1986, four years after the conclusion of the dispute over the Falklands, he treated England to a hearty meal of “go fuck yourself”, scoring with one of the most brazen acts of unpunished cheating ever caught on film, and then following it up minutes later with the most exquisite solo goal of the 20th century. In 1994 he was banned from the tournament after failing a test for the banned substance ephedrine (he’d been done for cocaine use a few years earlier).
A list of troublesome hosts
This year’s tournament is far from the only time when human rights abuses have been overlooked in a country hosting the World Cup. Hell, Russia hosted it last time out. And in 1978 Argentina held (and won) the tournament while in the grips of the murderous dictatorship of General Jorge Videla. While the tournament was played — Videla was ever-present at games — the military junta that had taken power two years earlier continued its “Dirty War”, a campaign against dissidents (or perceived dissidents) that would result in what was almost certainly tens of thousands of deaths. The victims came to be known as Los Desaparecidos: “The Disappeared”.
