4 July 1990, Stadio delle Alpi, Turin. West Germany 1–1 England, after extra time. West Germany win 4–3 on penalties.
By Hamish McTavish
A Wednesday night in Turin, the new stadium still looking like a bet, and a country that two weeks earlier had been told to bring them home. The Sun, after the Ireland draw in Cagliari, had put it on the front: Bring ’em home. Then David Platt volleyed Belgium, then they survived Cameroon, and suddenly half the population was supposed to be watching, which is how the English talk when they have remembered they invented it. Bobby Robson, in his last tournament, had a side that had no holding midfielder and a twenty-three-year-old who got better as the night got bigger. The Guardian, in the morning, would file Impressive England finally foiled. The photograph would be Paul Gascoigne. The night is the booking, the deflection, and the first shoot-out they ever had.
They had come a long way from bring ’em home. That is the certainty they grew in a fortnight: not that they would win it, exactly, but that this was the most momentous day since 1966, which is a sentence you only write when you have already decided the ending. Lineker later said how little was expected of them beforehand. The papers had done the expecting for them once Belgium went over. West Germany had Franz Beckenbauer on the bench and Matthäus, Andreas Brehme, Jürgen Klinsmann, the usual argument. England had Peter Shilton, forty, and Gazza, and a back four that had learned how to stay in a tournament. Robson knew it was his last World Cup as manager. He was nervous. He still sent them out.
Turin at night is a bowl you can hear from the kitchen. If you were not there you were in a living room that had cleared the evening. The ones who had been told to bring them home were now singing them into a final that did not exist yet.
They kicked off anyway.
It was even, and then it was a deflection. Just before the hour Brehme struck one that hit Paul Parker’s heel, ballooned, and dropped over Shilton as if the ball had changed its mind in the air. One-nil, freakish, the sort of goal a tournament gives you when it has already chosen a side. England did not fold. They had been folding in June. This was July. Ten minutes from the end of normal time Lineker, in full stride, put his left foot through it and the thing went under a sliding German and in at the far corner. One-one. Extra time, which they had been practising for without knowing, arrived with the booking already waiting.
That is the turn, and you can see it on his face before the card is up. Gazza went into Thomas Berthold, the German made a meal, and the referee reached for the pocket. Second yellow of the tournament. Out of the final if the final came. Lineker looked at the bench and mouthed it. Robson’s heart, he said later, hit his shoes. Gazza’s bottom lip went. He played on. He even shook Brehme’s hand after the German went through him. Chris Waddle hit the woodwork. Guido Buchwald hit the post. Shilton, in the shoot-out, guessed the right way four times and was a fingernail from all of them.
England’s first penalties. Lineker low to Bodo Illgner’s right. Brehme, the same corner. Peter Beardsley high to the left. Matthäus, a thump. David Platt, a pass that Illgner got a hand to and could not hold. Karl-Heinz Riedle, high. Stuart Pearce, down the middle, into Illgner’s knee, back out as far as the halfway line. Olaf Thon, rolled in. Waddle, who had never taken one in a match of this size, put it into the night with enough force that the ball is still travelling. Four-three. West Germany would lose the final to a different kind of night. England went home as the side that had restored something, which is the English consolation genre in 1990 clothes. The Guardian called them impressive and foiled. Both words are true. The second one is the score.
Gazza had the game of his life and the card that ended the dream he thought was a career. Lineker had the equaliser and the look to the bench. Pearce had the save he would carry to Wembley in 96. Waddle had the bar in extra time and the balloon from twelve yards. Shilton had the four dives and no glove on the ball. Parker had the heel. Robson had a line for Gazza at the end — you have done yourself, your family, the country, be proud — which is a kindness and also a funeral notice. Matthäus had been lived with for two hours. The shoot-out had not.
They said bring ’em home. They said most momentous since 1966. They said impressive. If you still think it was only the penalties, a funeral is only a Tuesday. The penalties were the first ones. The booking was the night deciding who was allowed to be in the picture. The picture is the tears. The score is four-three.
The film is up. FIFA still keep the deflection, the left foot, the card, the two that missed. Do not review it. Watch the fortnight die on the fifth kick.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vowUoccBT4E
Related reading
- Even the Scots had tears — León 1970, West Germany again, another lead that did not hold
- Don’t mention the score — Bloemfontein 2010, Germany 4–1, the morning that told you not to mention it
If the nights sit right, the shirts and the wall are at /shop.
FAQ
What was the score when West Germany beat England in Turin 1990?
West Germany 1–1 England after extra time; West Germany won 4–3 on penalties, on 4 July 1990 at the Stadio delle Alpi, Turin. Brehme scored for West Germany; Lineker for England.
Where does the title come from?
The Guardian, 5 July 1990 — Impressive England finally foiled. Both words are true; the second is the score.
Who missed in the shoot-out for England?
Stuart Pearce (saved by Illgner) and Chris Waddle (over). Lineker, Beardsley and Platt scored. It was England’s first World Cup penalty shoot-out.