Ink And Insight

  From glory to grief, the World Cup reveals what nations dare to dream. Is Hosting the World Cup a Blessing or a Curse?   ·        France hosted the World Cup in 1998 and won it for the first time in their history. A nation united in pure joy. ·        Brazil hosted in 2014. Germany humiliated them seven goals to one in the semi final. On home soil. In front of their own people. A nation traumatised. Two host nations. Two completely different stories. So is hosting the World Cup a blessing or a curse? It depends entirely on who is hosting. Global football divides naturally into three tiers. The superpowers — Brazil, Germany, Italy, Argentina, France and Spain. For these nations hosting carries the heaviest burden. Winning is not just an ambition. It is an expectation. Anything less feels like failure. Brazil proved that painfully. Twice. Then there is the middle group. England, Mexico and the Netherlands....

Baggio. The moment before silence. Pasadena, California. July 17, 1994. The FIFA World Cup Final. Roberto Baggio walked towards the penalty spot. The shootout was level. Everything rested on the most gifted footballer on the planet and a single kick twelve yards from goal. He placed the ball carefully. He straightened up and looked at the goal. The Brazilian goalkeeper Cláudio Taffarel stood on his line, shifting his weight. Three steps back. A pause. Then he ran forward and struck the ball cleanly. It flew over the crossbar and into the Californian night sky. Silence. Brazil were World Champions. Italy were broken. The man who had almost single handedly carried Italy to that final stood with his hands on his hips, his head bowed, staring at the ground. Alone. Are penalties the cruellest test in football? Baggio's miss in 1994 was not an isolated moment of failure. It was part of a story that repeats itself at almost every World Cup. England have lost penalty shootouts in 1990, 199...

  Watching over the game – Pelé and Maradona, forever part of football What is it about Mexico? Something happens to football legends when they arrive on Mexican soil. They come as icons. They leave as immortals. And the place where this magic happens has a name. The Estadio Azteca in Mexico City. Pelé arrived in Mexico in 1970, having won the World Cup twice already. The world knew who he was. But Mexico gave us something more. It gave us the complete Pelé. Pelé, the greatest footballer on the planet, led a Brazilian side that played beautiful football. As captain, Pelé lifted the Jules Rimet Trophy at the Azteca that summer. Brazil had won the World Cup three times. The trophy was theirs to keep forever. Pelé did not just win a third World Cup. He became eternal. Sixteen years later, another legend walked into the Azteca. Diego Maradona had already ignited the football world. But Mexico 1986 gave us something no one was prepared for. For three weeks, Maradona mesmerized the footb...

Italy will miss the 2026 World Cup. For a nation crowned champions four times, it is another painful reminder that in football, history offers no guarantees. Though one of the tournament’s most successful sides, Italy’s journey has always been marked by triumphs shadowed by heartbreak. In 1934, they hosted and won, though not without controversy. Four years later, they defended their title in France, becoming the first team to do so. For a generation, Italy set the standard for how to win when it mattered most. Then came 1982 in Spain. Three draws in the group stage left the press and fans at home furious. Nobody believed in them. In the quarter finals, they faced Brazil, the best team in the world. Paolo Rossi, just back from suspension and dismissed as “the Ghost,” suddenly came alive. His hat trick eliminated Brazil and carried Italy to the title. A player written off became the hero of the nation. In 1990, they hosted again. Unbeaten through the group stage, controlled and ef...

Think about the last time a World Cup moment took your breath away. The chances are you were not in the stadium. You were watching a screen. So was your neighbour. So was someone in Brazil. So was a child in Japan. So was a grandmother in Senegal. All of us, at exactly the same moment, sharing the same feeling. Television did more than bring the match into our homes. It allowed millions of people to gasp, cheer and cry together. When Maradona scored in 1986, the gasp was felt across Buenos Aires, Naples, London, Cairo and Tokyo at the same instant. That is the quiet magic of television. The first World Cup to be televised was Switzerland 1954. A small number of Europeans watched grainy black and white pictures. Then colour arrived and the images came alive. Gradually the audience grew. Slowly the whole world tuned in. By 2022 in Qatar, around five billion people followed the tournament. That is more than six out of every ten people alive on earth. And the final between Argentina ...

June 7, 1962. Viña del Mar, Chile. Brazil were defending champions. Everyone expected them to win again. The question wasn't if, but by how much. Second match. Pelé pulled a muscle. He was out of the tournament. The newspapers wrote that Brazil's dream had died with Pelé's injury. But there was another man in that team. Manuel Francisco dos Santos, popularly known as Garrincha and affectionately called the Little Bird. He was born with a crooked spine. His right leg bent inward. His left leg bent outward. Doctors said he could never play football. In 1958, he had been brilliant. But Pelé was the star. Garrincha lived in his shadow. Now the shadow was gone. Quarter-final against England. Garrincha scored twice. Header and foot. Brazil won 3-1. Semi-final against Chile in Santiago. 76,000 Chileans roaring. Garrincha dribbled past three defenders and scored. Then he dribbled past them again and scored again. He was sent off for retaliation. The final seem...