Italy Vs. Brazil, In Usa 94 Final

By Author: Winston Morrison
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The date was July 17, 1994 and in many ways it was another Sunday in the summer that had been that year with the exception that on that day Italy would be playing Brazil for the right to be crowned World Cup champion, in a tournament that unlike many was only held once every four years. This making it all the more important to win, at any cost and how those of us who supported either Italy or Brazil knew this to be true.

It being a final, that with Italy playing saw my enthusiasm along with optimism for an Italian victory raise to peak levels as I put on the jersey of the azzuri, which I would wear along with a white cap; also of the Italian national football team, as I waved the red, green and white of the national flag from where my father did come from. Victory I must say was all that was on my mind that afternoon as I got ready to go watch the game, for all I could think about was how great it was going to be to celebrate seeing Italy win its fourth world title; music would be played in honor of the occasion and there was sure to be great big party, which all those who were fans of Italy would partake in.

There ...
... is one thing that is both great and tragic about being Italy, Brazil, Germany or Argentina in football and this being that nothing but total victory will bring on celebrations, for second, third and fourth are simply not what it is about, for we are the best and as such must achieve results of the same. Sweden and Bulgaria had come in third and fourth respectively and to them this had been cause for celebration in their countries however for Italy second would have been perhaps not a tragedy but surely not a cause for joy as the quality of our game demanded we win.

It was not that I did not consider defeat to be a possibility, specially given the fact that we were playing against Brazil, a team which if anything was going to the final with less injuries then we were. After all two of our greatest players Baresi and R. Baggio would be playing, almost injured. This being the case though it had come to be my believe (which I still hold till this day) that in sports as in many things, defeat is not something we should ever plan for till it arrives, though our minds should always hold place for it incase it should arrive, as it is wisest in my counsel to always know victory can by all means be but by none has to be.

As for Brazil and Italy, they had already met on one occasion in the final, to be exact 24 years prior; with Brazil coming out on top by an overwhelming score of 4-1 to claim their third title along with the right to hang on to the Julies Rimet trophy. This given that Brazil by virtue of having beat Italy on that day so many years ago become the first country to have won the title three times. Italy in 82 however would go on to claim her third title, to put her on level terms with Brazil and Germany who in 90 would go on to claim its third title as well.

There was a strange feeling upon my arrival in Bar Napoli, as I had been there before for important games in this tournament but in a way this one was more so, as it would decide all, one game to proclaim a winner, while for the defeated team there would be four years to ponder where they had gone wrong. As in the previous occasions John and Gabriella had made their way to the place where we had suffered so much, all in hope and desire to see Italy win, as we had till that point and as we spoke before the game, I sensed a tension amongst ourselves, as if we were standing at the gateway of something great. For we were so close yet it was by a no means a certainty that ours would be to enter this sacred place of being world champions.

It was also on this day that many who had not been following the world cup or at least not in Bar Napoli, came as this final was attracting people from all around; even some Americans who in fact knew almost nothing about our brand of football and even less of what this game really meant to us. I for my part must even say that it was grand to see how this sport which had never really been mainstream in America was attracting those who before would have shown little if any interest. I, on this day recall holding a conversation with a young lady from Atlanta, who seemed astonished by how much it meant to us that Italy win to the point where, it seemed like a matter of life and death; only to be told that it was even more important then that, as Bill Shankly had once said.

At the start of the game the atmosphere was tense as it had been back in 1982, the last time Italy reached a final, for we knew this would be an incredibly difficult match for both teams; where the margin of victory would be either a mistake by one of the two sides or a spark of brilliance. It being what we were counting Roberto Baggio to provide for us with while Brazil was doing likewise from Romario. The first few minutes of the game as one can expect started with Brazil going on offense, with Italy going back in to defensive positions; always waiting to take advantage of those badly made passes, in order to go on the counter. All in a system of marking commonly referred to as pressing.

This was a final and like with any other pressure was high, which made every moment count but the reality was that few good chances came about for either side in this first half, with perhaps Italy having the best one. This being the case when Daniele Massaro after a long ball got past Mauro Silva, only to loss his nerve when faced with the presence of Brazil's goalkeeper Tafarel, who managed to save his weak shot, from a position which by all accounts should have been a goal. As for myself, it was as if my eyes as well as those around me were glued to the action; as if the rest of the world not only did not matter but did not even exist, for it was when I saw Massaro with a clear shot on goal from inside the box that I got ready to scream out a goal at the top of my lungs for all to hear yet it was not to be.

The game that day in all honesty was perhaps to intensely fought to see many clear chances for either team. This due to how marking was tight all over the field; to say that least however Romario and Bebeto would create two good chances for Brazil, while the clearest one coming on what was a huge mistake by our goalkeeper Gianluca Pagliuca. This occurring when a poorly taken shot slipped through his hands and bounced in front of him and on to the post, which he would kiss in gratitude, as it did save us from disaster. Roberto Baggio, who was being followed everywhere however did have a moment in which he got of a hard shot; wide of the mark which perhaps under healthier conditions he would have at least had on target.

The game ended 0-0, as it began, so overtime was the case, which in reality would be required for the fifth time to solve which team would win the tournament. Italy was tired but then again so was Brazil, yet if truth be told the game had been what could be hailed as mediocre but be that as it may it was a final which no one could afford to loose. The 30 minutes of overtime brought about few chances but some very clear ones, specially for Italy when Roberto Baggio got the ball in the clear but perhaps at too much of an angle; not only from the goal but his body as the shot he got off gave little if any real trouble to Brazilian goalkeeper Tafarel. I, of course to this day feel that history would have been another had Baggio been up to form that day but can one really blame a man, who had had to be carried off in the previous game? A man who also more then likely was playing on strong pain killers? Baggio's after all was not a lack of effort but health which would make itself all too clear, in almost everything he did that day however in all reality Brazil, also did not allow him much if any freedom, in the way Maradona was not allowed any in the 86 final by Germany.

For better or worse this was a game, that would end with the same score it began, all of which indicating that it would be penalties to decide which team would be the first one to win four world cups. It would come down to these kicks to decide it all, which team had the penalty takers with the strongest nerves, would it be us or them? We all held our breaths as if the fate of Italy and its penalty takers, known in Italian as rigoriste meant our very lives.

Italy would be kicking first as they had four years ago against Argentina, and like then it would be Franco Baresi to go first. He had scored his penalty then so we felt he should do it again but unlike then Baresi's shot sailed over the bar which meant Brazil would be kicking to go up 1-0. It was then that our hopes turned in to seeing Brazil miss one or perhaps our goalkeeper coming up with a great save and it was precisely this that occurred when Pagliuca kept Santos's penalty from going in to the net, to maintain the 0-0 score. A great roar was heard as Brazil's first kicker missed, for we the tiffosi of Italy knew we were back on level terms, still with a chance to go up 1-0 and become world champions. Albertini approached the spot and what relieve it was as his shot went past Tafarel, giving us a slight 1-0 lead. Romario however came next for Brazil and how he flirted with a miss; as his shot hit the inside of the post, barely going in the net, making the score 1-1. We came so close as ours almost become a huge scream only to be disappointed, as I could tell from the looks about me from those who like myself had been following Italy since their first game against Ireland. Gabriella for her part, was an amazing sight; this being a young lady who held no connection what so ever with Italy and yet she was as dependent on an Italian win as were the rest of us. She perhaps more then anybody symbolized to me at that moment what it was to love a football team, as she in all truth was living it with us, as much as any; with all the suffering that in fact is passion. For what is this so often mentioned emotion but wanting something, till the point where we hurt inside for what we are so much in hope of getting, to the extreme that even when we have it, we are still unfulfilled.

After Romario's near miss both Evani (for Italy) and Branco (for Brazil) scored without any major difficulty, leaving it up to Massaro who much to our grief missed, leaving matters at 2-2 with Dunga about to take his turn. Dunga however scored giving Brazil the lead at 3-2 and putting Italy on the verge of defeat. This left it all up to Roberto Baggio, for if he missed it would be all over, as Brazil would claim their fourth title, at our expense. Of course, if Baggio did what most of us supposed he could; it would all come down to Brazil's Bebeto to determine matters as a goal from him would result in the same.

We were on the brink of loosing, yet there was still hope as a goal by Baggio and then a save by Pagliuca would tie up matters one more time and continue this agony which was penalty kicks. In all honesty I must say that a Baggio miss was something I had not really counted on, as my mind was rather looking forward to seeing if Bebeto's nerves would hold up to convert Brazil's fifth spot kick.

Baggio stepped up to the ball and as he did, it seemed that time stood still for a moment, almost as if the whole world had done so for that matter. Baggio then struck the ball and as he did it much to our disbelief went over the crossbar, making in unnecessary for any more penalty kicks to be taken, as Brazil had won it all. It was the sight of Baggio standing at the penalty spot with his head down, while Brazilians everywhere cheered that I will remember most from this world cup final. For Baggio it must have been a situation similar to that of Ramades in the opera Aida, who at one point had been hailed as a hero of Egypt, only to later be executed for unintentional treason. Baggio had saved us from certain defeat in the round of eight, given us victory against both Spain and Bulgaria yet for all this he had just handed Brazil its fourth title. I however would not be so quick to blame Baggio, given he was not the only one to miss however his was the one that put an end to all our dreams.

We had lost, there was nothing to be said or hoped for; as ours would be to come in second place, though this by no means signified we were the second best team, just that we were the ones who had managed to avoid the winners till the final. This not being the case with countries like the USA, Netherlands or Sweden who had been forced to play Brazil in the rounds prior to the final. Of course Italy unlike the rest had made Brazil extend themselves, as far as not only overtime but penalties but at the end it had all been in their favor not ours that it had ended.

Italy had played a great tournament, making it to the final but there is a lot of truth in the American saying you are only as good as your last game, and we had not won. Sadness was everywhere as people paid their checks and Gabriella cried as if at a funeral along with many others, myself included. We even tried to consol ourselves by saying that perhaps Brazil had played not better then us but had had the better chances and therefore deserved to win but this was not the point, for we had come so close. A few penalties going our way, Romario's shot going a few more millimeters left and it would have been ours, naturally if Baresi and Baggio had scored yet it was not the way it went.

After a few minutes of hugs, amongst ourselves and disappointment we did manage to leave Bar Napoli with all the dignity that did not see anything broken or smashed; as defeat is something one must accept gracefully. Once outside in a show of support however the chorus Italia, Italia, Italia was heard for about ten minutes as we let it be known that we were not ashamed that we had supported the team we had and would gladly do it again and would be in the world cups to come. For this above all be known that a fan is one who stands behind his or her team; win or loose, which is what we in our case were doing.

I for my part went home and on my way bought a Brazilian cap for a young waitress whom I had made a bet with, this being the case since I was not able to find a flag. It was also on my way home that I came to the conclusion that loosing was not so bad, if one gave it one's best and with no regrets, specially since Italy had not really lost in what could be called play but in penalties. All of which saving face that ours had been to come arguably closer to winning then any other loosing team in the history of the world cup, and though this had not finished in what we all had wanted it had seen us get to the final. In a road which had past many great emotions, which for all of us who lived them were not in vain. For this above all was our sport and we would be back to compete for more titles.

Regarding Italy and Brazil, they have played several games since that Sunday in 94 but none of any importance that went beyond a friendly however it is with great anticipation that I await another encounter with our great rival.
My name is Gianni Truvianni, I am an author who writes with the simple aim of sharing his ideas, thoughts and so much more of what I am with those who are interested in perhaps reading something new. I also am the author of the book entitled New York's Opera Society which is now available on Amazon.

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