During the mid-summer of 1974 it was hard to escape a sudden proliferation of tartan.
Edinburgh-based pop-act the Bay City Rollers, who were beginning to generate attention on the back of a couple of hit singles, (by the following summer they would be a household name), adorned their jumpers and curiously short-cut trousers in such material – the traditional cloth of Scotland also evident among the many thousands supporting the national team at the World Cup in West Germany.
In days long before they were referred to as ‘The Tartan Army‘ those who headed to the tournament were more likely to be described, when filmed quenching their thirst or serenading the local populace, as ‘sociable, song-happy Scots.’ They proved themselves unbeatable when it came to providing backing for those in the blue shirts (white in one fixture), this undefeated recognition somewhat ironic in relation to how things would turn out for the team.
There was no shortage of irony either that at a time when young girls (my sister one of them) were switching their adolescent allegiance from U.S. heartthrobs The Osmonds to the aforementioned, fast-emerging Scottish sensations, many English football followers, without a team to shout for as England had missed out on World Cup qualification, were giving their support (in my recollection at least) to the side from north of the border.
This affinity with the natural habitat of the haggis had nothing to do with sudden liking of Kenneth McKellar, Moira Anderson or any other New Year’s Eve late-evening television perennials of the time, but instead based on the number of players in the Scotland squad who played for English clubs.
Seven of the 22 (there were 12 anglos altogether) were drawn from Manchester United and Leeds United, two of the best supported teams in playgrounds of many a school in England.
By definition, fans of these two clubs wanted their players to shine on the international stage which in turn meant giving Scotland a cheer, if not whole-hearted backing – and following the season that had just ensued, those following Leeds and Manchester United either had plenty, or nothing, to shout about.
The campaign had resulted in Leeds becoming runaway league champions (runaway in the sense of winning the title by the biggest points margin in four years), but at the same time Old Trafford had suffered the ignominy of relegation, their descent into the second division arguably on the cards since the turn of the decade. Yet it still sent a shockwave through English football, the like of which had not been felt in years.
In any number of respects 1973-74 had been remarkable. The failure of England to secure a place at the World Cup generated hours of debate, much of this soul-searching carried out in the dark, (appropriate perhaps given the current standing of the national team), as football, like the country at large, came to terms with power cuts and fuel shortages.
When the darkness began to lift, in both a literal and metaphorical sense, spring brought a League Cup triumph for Wolves, the subsequent weeks bringing the end of an era with Sir Alf Ramsey sacked as England manager – the 1966 World Cup winning supremo exiting just as Leeds secured their second championship in five seasons.
In May there was an FA Cup success for Liverpool, the Home Internationals and three-match England tour behind the Iron Curtain (the opposition in each case a World Cup attendee) that wrapped up the seven match tenure of caretaker boss Joe Mercer. With each episode it seemed 1973-74 was without end and with the World Cup looming, football itself, much to the glee of this young teenager, shortened the time between the end of one season and beginning of another.
From memory, England not being involved did not seem all that significant at the time, perhaps in my case based on having nothing really to use in comparison – your genial host here at SAMTIMONIOUS.com having no real recollections of 1966 and only ones of a vague nature from 1970.
Personal allegiance therefore, beyond favouritism out of familiarity with Scotland, went they way of Poland.
No doubt a strange admission in light of them qualifying at the expense of England, my partiality toward the Poles centred around them being the first squad completed in my 1974 Soccer Stars sticker album, such things of huge significance at the age of 13.
This preference for Poland was sealed, stuck down probably more appropriate, on coming into possession of the sticker for Miroslav Bulzacki, a name embedded in my memory. With hindsight it was more a World Cup highlight for me than him – and while my double page spread of Poland suddenly had no gaps, the central defender, who had been a mainstay of the side during qualification, failed to kick a ball in anger during the tournament. This despite Polish involvement lasting until the 3/4 Play-Off Match, in which they defeated Brazil.
Indeed, the conquerors of England did themselves proud, initially winning their section with a 100 per cent record, recording victories over Italy, Haiti and Argentina (who finished runners-up in the group). Poland thus advanced to the second group stage (1974 the first of three successive World Cups to adopt this format), where they overcame Yugoslavia and Sweden before going out to a late Gerd Muller goal against hosts West Germany in what was effectively a semi-final.
Had it not been for their (first) group section defeat against neighboring East Germany, it would be tempting to conclude this was the World Cup where West Germany fully-realized the concept of ‘tournament football‘ – in other words playing in a functional, efficient manner that manifested in near-as-dammit progress to the next stage.
Mind you, it helped the methodology of coach Helmut Schon to have such talent as Bonhof, Breitner, Overath, Beckenbauer and Netzer at his disposal, the eventual winners also blessed with the goalscoring prowess of the great Gerd Muller – the ultimate quirk of a fate, in a tournament of many, that it should be a goal from the best finisher on the planet that decided who would be world champions.
When he struck decisively to give West Germany a 2-1 lead in the final, Muller netted against Holland, the beaten finalists offering the contrast of technical ying against the purposeful yang of their opponents.
From their opening fixture, a comfortable 2-0 triumph over Uruguay it was clear, even to a tender-aged football watcher such a myself, Holland played in a style far removed from anything currently being seen on ‘Match of the Day‘.
The possession-based strategy purveyed by national champions Ajax (where seven of the Dutch squad played their club football), had secured three successive European Cup triumphs. The run, as fate would have it, had been broken by West German big-guns Bayern Munich (who provided seven of their national squad) – Bayern a few weeks earlier beginning their three-season reign as club champions of Europe.
But for many this was first exposure to the expressive, entertaining style that had become the Dutch way.
During a summer when the expression ‘total football‘ entered common parlance, my Dad while watching Holland deny their opponents a kick in stroking the ball through the team, offered analysis something along the lines of ‘If this lot put a player in the back of the net and told the others to pass to him, they’d score every time‘, which was their strategy broken down into layman’s terms.
Many years later the description would re-enter the mind of his son when watching Arsene Wenger-era Arsenal.
Such was the fluency with which they played, Holland were ahead in the final before a West German opponent had touched the ball. On receiving possession their captain and midfield magician Johan Cruyff burst into the hosts’ penalty area and on being fouled, team-mate Johan Neeskens lashed the ensuing spot kick, awarded by English referee Jack Taylor, into the net – the Dutch in front with barely 90 seconds played.
After awarding the first ever penalty in a World Cup Final, Taylor whistled for a second in the 25th minute, full-back Breitner levelling from the spot following a foul on Bernd Holzenbein.
Although Holland continued to weave neat patterns, it was the direct play of the Germans that would bear fruit, Muller securing the lead and in due course of the next 47 minutes the 1974 World Cup, netting with customary aplomb two minutes before half-time.
After the break West German resilience won out against Dutch artistry, an enthralling tournament won by the best team, if not the best players – West Germany, to their immense credit becoming the first nation to be European and World Champions at the same time, their 1974 success coming two years after they asserted themselves as the best in Europe.
As they progressed to the final Holland picked up the epithet of ‘the Brazilians of Europe‘, the genuine article arriving at the competition as holders. With a handful of survivors from their outstanding, all-conquering team of four years before, Brazil still looked the side most likely to prevail, even if by now Cruyff had replaced the incomparable Pele, who retired from international football after the 1970 triumph, as the finest player in the world.
Acutely aware of the rough stuff they encountered when contesting the last European-based World Cup – Brazil and Pele in particular subjected to some brutal tackling on going to England in 1966 as the reigning champions, but failing to progress beyond the group stage – the Brazilians’ from the outset made it clear they would not fall prey to such treatment this time around.
On several occasions, most notably in the group fixture against Scotland and second stage match with Holland, Brazil opted to foul first and play later, an approach that could be seen from week to week on ‘Match of the Day.’
While names such as Jairzinho and Rivellino still resonated from 1970, the flamboyance of performers like Paulo Cezar came with an equal mix of cynicism, the mindset closer to clogger than samba.
Talking of clog, when they met Holland – in all but name a semi-final encounter – Brazil found the Dutch not susceptible to being bullied and through the contest were largely outplayed. The outcome was decided by superbly taken second half goals from Neeskens and Cruyff, the South Americans encountering not only a superior team but a referee less inclined to tolerate spite, central defender Luis Pereira sent off in the closing stages for an offence too far.
Suffice to say it was all a far cry from the majesty of their performances in Mexico four years earlier.
Indeed, a stricter official than Arie van Gemert (Holland) may have had a major bearing on the game against the Scots, when Brazil were fortunate to finish with a full compliment after the sides played out a tight goalless draw.
After opening their tenure with a comfortable 2-0 win over Zaire, the true limitations of the African qualifiers’ then exposed in a 9-0 hiding off Yugoslavia, Scotland could count themselves unfortunate not to have overcome the world champions. The point they earned brought clear need to defeat Yugoslavia in the final game if further progress was to be made.
In the end a 1-1 draw (Brazil defeating Zaire 3-0) resulted in Scotland going out on goal difference and while there was consolation to be had when the dust settled of being the only side not to lose a game at the tournament, there was still an overriding sense that an opportunity to go farther had been missed.
The curious omission of wing-wizard Jimmy Johnstone from all three fixtures was one of several anomalies attached to their campaign, manager Willie Ormond reducing the Celtic man to the role of non-playing squad member.
True, as wingless wonders England had won the World Cup eight years prior, but a wide man of his talent might have made Sir Alf think again. Even from the bench, Johnstone could have provided the extra-dimension Scotland required in drawing against Brazil and Yugoslavia or for greater dismantlement of Zaire.
In his closing summation of the tournament after the final, ITV presenter Brian Moore remarked:
‘Well that was the 1974 World Cup, Argentina ’78 is 1,425 days away – if you can wait that long.’
By then my interest in sticker books had been replaced with a fascination for Bruce Springsteen LP’s, an imagination once fired by Cruyff now fueled by The Clash. By June 1978 the Bay City Rollers were looked upon as a mid-70s fad, although certain things in the four years to have passed were not altogether different.
English football was again searching its soul – and for a little while at least the World Cup had a tartan presence………….
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