Enoch Powell once observed that all political careers end in failure - a prophecy which he himself went on to fulfil. But the same can not be said about football. Some players do indeed keep gong long after their legs have given out and their best years have passed into memory. That’s why God invented Tottenham Hotspur. But others choose the time of their departure wisely. For example, Tony Adams called it a day with an exemplary performance in Arsenal’s 2002 FA Cup final victory over Chelsea.
But until now, no player had ever chosen the World Cup final as their last ever match. Yesterday’s clash between France and Italy was the last game in the highly decorated career of Zinedine Zidane, whose dribbling, balance and vision had marked him out as the greatest player of the past decade. Having started the 2006 World Cup slowly, the great Frenchman returned to his virtuoso best and seemed destined to end his playing days with one last title.
Alas, it was not to be and, along with the despair of his team’s defeat on penalties, came the personal shame of a 14th career red card when Zizou head-butted Marco Materazzi in extra time. With that one last, rash move, a career which scaled the heights of both achievement and performance ended in ignominy. As he retired to the bowels of Berlin’s Olympic stadium, his team-mates fought on but were unable to finish off an Italian team whom they had clearly bettered. In a final twist of the blade, Zidane’s provocateur, Materazzi, was among the five clinical Italian penalty-takers. Only French striker David Trezeuget failed to score, his spot-kick bouncing down off the bar but, unlike Zizou’s fifth-minute opener, bouncing out rather than in.
On such small margins are great games decided and indeed great careers defined. The villain of last night’s piece could so easily have been its hero. Only ten minutes before he thrust his head into Materazzi’s chest, Zidane had used it to connect with a Sagnol cross. Unfortunately, his header went straight into Buffon’s arms. If only he had directed it a little to either side, not even the world’s best keeper would have been able to save it. Or if only he had been unable to continue after injuring his shoulder in the second half, at least a great career would have ended in disappointment rather than disgrace.
But Zizou played on after treatment and was eventually, and rightly, dismissed. What prompted this wild lunge, we may never know, but no insult by the Italian defender could justify such a violent rebuttal. Wayne Rooney was rightly lambasted for a similar crazy assault on Ricardo Carvalho in the quarter-finals, but what Zidane did was worse. The England striker, unlike Zizou, was under physical pressure when he lashed out. And Rooney, at 20, can plead youth as a mitigating factor. Zidane, the 34-year-old captain of Les Bleus, will not need to be told that he is old enough to know better.
With only minutes of the tournament remaining, Zidane’s head-butt provided the iconic image of the 18th World Cup. It is an ugly snapshot of an ugly tournament. What had promised in the group stages to be a festival of attacking football descended in the knockout rounds into a succession of ill-tempered, low-scoring games. The great players who were supposed to illuminate the tournament - Henry, Ronaldinho, Messi, Rooney -never sparkled. Argentina, Spain and Ghana, who had enlivened the group stages, departed early, with the cynics of Italy and Portugal soldiering on, blighting their games with diving.
The Italians, exponents of an utterly cyncial and, we now know, deeply corrupt footballing culture, did at least produce one game of which to be proud. Their enthralling 2-0 semi-final defeat of hosts Germany was the match of the tournament, thanks largely to the spirit in which it was played. The amateur dramatics had a night off and Italy showed that they could play as well as cheat.
But for footballing romantics, the great story of the otherwise turgid knockout rounds was provided by a reborn French team, seemingly unrelated to the insipid side who had limped through draws with Switzerland and South Korea in the group games. Zidane returned to his imperious best, delivering the coup de grace to the Spanish in the last minute, then running the show against Brazil, setting up Henry for the first (and last) time in their years together. The fact that Zizou had announced he would retire from all football after this tournament gave France’s knockout games a sense of poignancy. The hope was always for one more encore.
By the semi-finals, the veteran French team were hanging on, there was less champagne football against the Portuguese, but Zidane did contribute an exquisite penalty. Cristiano Ronaldo, in many ways the tournament’s best player as well as its worst, was the man of the match that night. But still, France were not to be denied their rendez-vous with the Azurri.
And so on to the final in Berlin, with all neutral hearts surely now with France. Within seven minutes, Zizou had given the French the lead, again from the penalty spot. But there was to be no glorious finale. Zidane ended the match in the dressing room, Italy ended the game as victors, and an ugly tournament had the champions it deserved.