13 October 1993, De Kuip, Rotterdam. Netherlands 2–0 England.
By Hamish McTavish
A Wednesday night in the Feyenoord stadium, forty-eight thousand in orange, and a manager who had already been a vegetable since Stockholm. Graham Taylor had five changes for the night that would decide whether they went to America. Paul Gascoigne, Stuart Pearce and Les Ferdinand were out. Paul Parker and Paul Merson were in. David Platt had the armband. ITV had Brian Moore. The cameras in the dugout had the rest, which we would see later, when the documentary went out and the country learned a new way to say it did not like that. The Sun, in the morning, would sign the vegetable off: Ta Ta Turnip. The Mirror would not bother with vegetables. Resign! Resign!
England needed this one. After Oslo they had been a calamity. After Foxboro they had been planks. Poland at Wembley had bought them a month. Rotterdam was the month coming due. Win, and the World Cup is still a thing you can point at. Draw, and you start asking other people for favours. Lose, and you are in San Marino in November hoping the Dutch slip in Poland, which is not a plan, it is a prayer with a 7–1 attached. Taylor had said he wanted continuity after Poland. Then he changed half the side. The Independent called it more alterations than Sketchleys. The Dutch had Ronald Koeman, Dennis Bergkamp, Marc Overmars, Frank Rijkaard. Dick Advocaat did not need a documentary. He needed a referee.
De Kuip on a Wednesday is a steep bowl and a noise that arrives before the teams. England had come in as the side that still talked about USA 94 as if it were a booking they had not cancelled. Taylor had been filmed in the hotel and on the touchline saying the things a man says when the week has already gone: can we not knock it, it’s got to go big, hit Les, Wrighty, the whole grammar of a campaign that was talking to itself. The cameras would make it comedy later. On the night it was a manager trying to keep a World Cup alive with Paul Ince, Carlton Palmer, Alan Shearer, and a German official FIFA had sent. Continuity had already left with the five changes.
They kicked off anyway.
It was even for an hour, which is the part the English memory likes to keep because it makes the rest look like theft. Tony Dorigo bent a free-kick that Ed de Goey tipped onto the post. Tony Adams, of all people, had one hacked off the line. Platt had a shot saved. Overmars and Bryan Roy had already shown what the other half of even looks like. Jan Wouters had already thumped one into Seaman’s midriff. England had a purple patch that might have been a half-time lead, which is the most dangerous thing they do: look like the better side for twenty minutes and then ask a referee to save the rest. Then, just after the hour that was supposed to stay level, Koeman hauled Platt down as the captain ran through, a yard inside the box, a goalscoring chance FIFA had spent the autumn telling referees was a red card. Karl-Josef Assenmacher gave a free-kick on the eighteen-yard line and a yellow. Taylor went. That was when he lost it, he said later. He thought they were being cheated.
The free-kick at the other end was retaken. Koeman had already wasted the first one. The second he chipped, soft, over the wall, past David Seaman’s right hand. The man who should have been in the dressing room had the lead. Six minutes later Bergkamp, twenty yards out, hit one low to Seaman’s left. Two-nil. Paul Merson had hit a post. Ian Wright had come on because Taylor could hear himself saying it was made for Wrighty. Andy Sinton had already come on at the interval for Palmer. It was not made for Wrighty. It was made for a centre-half who had been left on. In the closing minutes Taylor found the linesman and gave him the only line from the night that will last longer than the vegetable: the referee’s got me the sack, thank him ever so much for that, won’t you?
The Sun did the thanking. Ta Ta Turnip. So it’s ta ta turnip from us. The Mirror had Resign! Resign! and, elsewhere, three jeers. They would beat San Marino 7–1 in Bologna and still miss the World Cup, because the Netherlands beat Poland, and David Gualtieri would score in eight seconds so the Independent could call it seventh hell. That is November. This is October. This is the night the campaign ended, with a yellow card and a retaken chip. The documentary would make the grammar famous. The grass had already finished the booking.
Koeman had the foul, the yellow, the wasted kick, and the one they let him take again. Bergkamp had the second, the Independent swearing he had used a hand to kill it first. Assenmacher had the night Taylor would not forgive. Platt had the run that should have been a sending-off. Seaman had the chip and the low one. Shearer had another evening with nothing to put away. Ince had the booking. Parker had the night he was picked for. Taylor had the cameras, the swear words, can we not knock it, do I not like that, hit Les, and the sack he had already announced to a German official. The vegetable had been planted in Stockholm. Rotterdam was the harvest.
They said continuity. They said a goalscoring chance is a red. They said it was made for Wrighty. They said ta ta. If you still think it was only the referee, a funeral is only a Tuesday. The referee left Koeman on. Koeman scored. The documentary made it a catchphrase. The World Cup went to America without them.
The film is up. The night is still there: the haul, the yellow, the chip, Bergkamp, the linesman. Do not review it. Watch the vegetable get its farewell.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sn_kRxgphEE
Related reading
- Norse manure — Oslo 1993, the Scandinavian calamity that set up Rotterdam
- Yanks 2, Planks 0 — Foxboro 1993, the American plank week in the same campaign
If the nights sit right, the shirts and the wall are at /shop.
FAQ
What was the score when the Netherlands beat England in Rotterdam 1993?
Netherlands 2–0 England, on 13 October 1993 at De Kuip. Koeman and Bergkamp scored.
Why “Ta ta, turnip”?
The Sun’s morning farewell after Taylor’s World Cup campaign effectively ended — the vegetable planted after Sweden, harvested in Rotterdam.
Was Koeman sent off for fouling Platt?
No. Assenmacher gave a free-kick and a yellow for a foul Taylor and FIFA guidance treated as a goalscoring chance; Koeman stayed on and scored from a retaken free-kick.