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One of the things I like about Latin American footy is that whenever there's a drinks break or they're coming back from half time, they'll usually tour the crowd looking for totty. There was a bit of that at Brazil 2014 an' all.

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Can't wait. I've been reading up on the squads like a right fucking geek over the past few weeks and binge watching those excellent documentaries on the History Channel. Italia 90 made me take notice of football in general, but USA 94 was the first one I watched properly. France 98 was my tournament though, mid-teens and obsessed with everything football related. Arsenal doing the double the month before added fuel to the fire. Plus, there seemed to be an endless amount of good world cup songs knocking about.

It's not going to be better than 2014, which was bloody good, but as long as it's better then the three tournaments prior to that.

I'll be watching Claudio Caniggia getting destroyed by Cameroon on loop until Thursday.

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My first memory was the penalties in 94'. But first World Cup I remember watching from start to finish was 98. Also the 2002 World Cup with the early mornings was interesting as everyone was in work early to watch one or two of the England games.

Not sure what to think this year, looking forward to it and a week off work for the first week to take it all in, I fancy Brazil to win it this year. England to get to the Semis. 

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1990 for me was my first World Cup of note. 

It had Robson and Webb coming home and the emergence of Platt and Gazza on the international scene.

But I'd been going to Wolves for 3 years as a tiny one and was already in love with Bully, the fact he went to Italy had me in raptures and so proud to be a Wolves fan.

Roger Miller being great, Rijkaard being a dirty fucker.

I loved going to football with my Dad back then, Italia 90 made me fall in love with football fullstop.

That England strip was my first kit too, and went lovely with my Linekar/Bully Quasar boots. I have an Umbro reissue that fits me now, it has Gazzas number on the back, I would have loved to have found it with 21.

Bully.jpg

Edited by Teedy Kay
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1986 was my very first World Cup, but 1990 was the one which really drew me in. As I've mentioned on here before, it was the last time until 2014 that a World Cup felt like an absolutely massive deal to me (1994 was great, and felt big, but didn't feel as epic).

That said, while Nessun Dorma will always feel like THE international football anthem to me, the one below comes a close second (especially as it was used for domestic football later on - was it Saint & Greavesie?):

 

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I remember Mexico 86 first and foremost. Not too much about it, but I remember the excitement of collecting the stickers. Jim Leighton’s Panini sticker face haunting me to the point where I sacrificed the completion of the album by refusing to put him in it. I remember Kinder Eggs had multiple variants of Pique the mascot. I remember being so in love with the Danish team that I asked for the jersey for my birthday (I didn’t get it) and I remember being absolutely mesmerised watching Brazil vs France, it being Platini’s birthday and everyone who was expected to score a penalty, missing a penalty. I am obsessed by that World Cup because I genuinely believe it was that World Cup that really began my obsession with ball at 6 years old.

Italia 90 was tremendous as a 10 year old Irish kid. The buzz in this country, I have never seen since and will never see again. I was brought to pubs for the late matches where people sang, jumped on tables, on bars, everyone hugged...it was an incredible time, considering the football we played was absolutely fucking septic.
I remember the semi final of England/Germany vividly, as it was my mates birthday party/hop and there was music in the kitchen and a few of us were gathered in the sitting room with his oullad (who’s from Devon) and I felt so, so sorry for the chap as he watched in horror and sadness as Waddle skied his peno.

USA 94. Houghton’s goal. Aldridge losing his mind and becoming a hero in the process. Packie Bonner being shite. Cobi Jones looking like Zack de la Rocha, and me using my milk round money to buy the ludicrously cool – and effective in public - USA jersey.

France 98. Got drunk a lot. Got a Beckham haircut. Watched most matches. Obsessed over Zidane. Henrys moustache. Brazilian fans diddies. Ortega really wasn’t Maradonna.

That was the last time real men were ballers, in my opinion.

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