Why I crave the days of win-or-bust qualifiers
TIn 1973, getting to the finals was a proper challenge. There were no play-offs and no safety net
he memories will be flowing tomorrow. It may be 48 years on, but the clown of a goalkeeper, the fruitless pressure, the era-ending aftermath, will all be recalled at length. Yes, England are playing Poland once again in a World Cup qualifier.
And never mind that in the 15 meetings since that fateful 1-1 draw, England have not lost to them. Because of that traumatic October evening at Wembley in 1973, the Poles have invariably been cast as the Three Lions’ bogey team. That is what failure does for football fans: it lingers in the collective memory as prominently as victory. But for all the forensic scrutiny of Jan Tomaszewski’s goalkeeping prowess, or Kevin Hector’s last-minute header being hacked off the line, or Norman Hunter’s face as he trooped off the pitch at the final whistle, there is something about that 1973 match that has been largely forgotten in the modern era: back then, there was proper jeopardy involved in World Cup qualification.
Over the years since, for the larger footballing nations, the process has become so straightforward as to be almost foolproof. Almost foolproof: as Holland and Italy in 2018, not to mention Graham Taylor’s England in 1994, proved, even a system established to be a ceremonial invitation can be compromised by incompetence.
But back in 1973, getting to the finals was a proper challenge. Uefa’s qualification Group Five consisted of just three teams: England, Wales and Poland. Only the winner progressed; there were no play-offs, no safety net, second place was an irrelevance. It was all or nothing, win or bust.
It meant every match mattered, every match had consequence. What is more, there were not very many of them. Alf Ramsey only had to negotiate four games spread across a year; this month, Gareth Southgate’s England are playing three in one international break. Back then, there was value in rarity.
And while many a football fan will regard tomorrow’s encounter as a pointless interruption to their club’s league campaign, in 1973 the whole nation held its breath (apart from those of Scottish inclination who were barely able to suppress their laughter). The trepidation was understandable: after losing away in Poland and drawing at home with Wales, England’s chances as they approached their final fixture were already teetering on the brink. There was a real possibility that, for the first time since they had condescended to participate, England might not be going to a World Cup.
Four years later, it was even more tricky. This time in a fourteam group, to get to Argentina, England had to better Italy. They ended up with the same number of points, but failed to head west on goal difference.
Over the years since, driven by a Fifa always keen to squeeze its assets until the pips squeak, the finals have been expanded (in 2018 Uefa sent 14 national teams to Russia, in 1974 it was but nine) and the process of getting there eased to ensure the countries delivering big television audiences are as good as certain to be involved.
But making it easier has significant repercussions, not least on the meaning of a competition. Since the last-gasp goalless draw in Rome that ensured participation in France 1998, England’s qualification to subsequent World Cups has been almost entirely bereft of drama, a procession of gimmes that have lingered in the collective memory about as long as a goldfish’s circuit of the bowl sticks in theirs. All rarity value has been expunged.
Worse, the system has done little to hone the team in preparation for the finals themselves. Ahead of the 2010 tournament, for instance, England strolled through, winning nine of their 10 qualifiers, before stinking out the finals.
After knocking out England in 1973, in contrast, a battle-hardened Poland made it to the semi-final of the tournament the following summer, even beating Brazil in the third place play-off. It was an achievement they never surpassed.
So, when we look back at what happened on that fateful October night at Wembley 48 years ago, the nostalgia is infused with a memory of a time when such encounters carried weight. Tomorrow, in truth, it is just another game.