The World Cup provided one of soccer’s most historic matches on July 23, 1966. Both teams were unbeaten after three preliminary rounds as England and Argentina readied to do battle at London’s Wembley Stadium for a place in the semis. The match promised drama and it delivered.
One of 90,584 fans at the stadium, I sat behind the Royal Box in company with 25 other off-duty World Cup referees from the British Isles, Europe, South America, Asia — the four corners of the globe. My fellows included an Arab army general and an Israeli at a time of high tension between their respective homelands, but soccer was the first priority during the three-week tournament.
Wembley never looked better with its lush green turf bathed in brilliant sunshine. A scarlet uniformed military band marched and countermarched across the sacred arena, thumping out popular tunes to the whistling and singing, good-humored crowd. Song sheets, scarves, hats, anything in hand, were waved in the prematch fiesta. The scene was ready for the actors to play their parts. Argentina was in blue and white vertical stripes with black shorts. England was in all white. Between the teams stood the match officials, Rudy Kreitlein of Germany and his linesmen, Godfried Dienst of Switzerland and Istvan Zsolt of Hungary, all clad in traditional funereal black.
As the band stopped and prepared to march away, the first sign of trouble appeared. Each team had four soccer balls for a warmup kickabout, but two Argentines broke ranks, ran to the England lineup, appropriated two balls and sprinted back toward their warmup goal. England players, hands on hips, looked bemused, hunched their shoulders and decided to get on with the kickabout. Already, the Argentines were winning by six balls to two!
Thirty-six minutes into the match, the game’s central confrontation took place. Kreitlein, a slight, dapper, strictly correct official, was in a standoff with the towering Argentine captain Antonio Rattin. Rattin was protesting allowances he believed the officials were giving English players. Kreitlein’s bald head, reflecting the sun, bobbed in animated discussion. He was clearly upset with Rattin’s attitude, even if he couldn’t understand the Spanish coming from Rattin’s mouth. It was a disgrace in those days to even be cautioned at Wembley. Suddenly, Kreitlein pointed to the dressing room, ordering Rattin off.
Pandemonium broke out! The referee was immediately surrounded by blue and white shirts as teammates tried to get Rattin off the hook. England’s players stood by and watched. The Argentine group moved to the touchline to argue with interpreters, team delegates and FIFA officials. Ken Aston, ex-international referee and then-head of the FIFA referees’ committee, used his height, weight and powers of persuasion to quell the argument but time continued to tick off the clock. The crowd slowly clapped and sang, “Why are we waiting?” to the tune of “Oh, Come All Ye Faithful.” I looked at the other World Cup referees. All were on the edge of their seats wondering what they would do in Kreitlein’s place.
West German referee Rudolf Kreitlein orders off Argentine captain Antonio Rattin (left) in an incident that was magnified by a language barrier.
Could this be the first walk-off by an international team? At Wembley, of all places? Unbelievably, it seemed that Kreitlein had changed his mind. Rattin turned away and re-entered the field. I was now out of my seat, fuming with rage. At that moment I vowed to forsake soccer forever if Rattin didn’t walk. I was halfway to the exit when I turned to see Rattin being led away. Justice prevailed after all, but it had been a long seven minutes.
The Sunday morning papers ran banner headlines: “Go Home, Thugs!” and “Animals!” they screamed, repeating a comment by Alf Ramsey, the usually passive England manager. Press reports revealed violent postgame incidents. Kreitlein was assaulted by Argentine players. FIFA’s match commissar, Harry Cavan, was spat upon.
Another problem surfaced in the press. Brothers Bobby and Jackie Charlton, England’s heroes, read that they had been cautioned by Kreitlein during play. The referee was quoted as saying, “I had to caution them for ungentlemanly conduct,” but the brothers denied any knowledge of being disciplined.
FIFA went into an emergency huddle and issued a severely worded statement accusing Argentine players and officials of bringing the game into disrepute. The Argentine Football Association was fined a derisory $150 (the maximum allowed by FIFA statutes) and threatened with exclusion from the 1970 World Cup tournament. Rattin was banned for four international matches and two other players got three-match bans for assaults on FIFA officials. “Powder puff punishment,” cried the media. The statement also confirmed the cautions on the Charlton brothers. “The ban is savage,” Rattin fumed. “England must be allowed to win the World Cup. The referees are on their side. I only asked the referee for an interpreter.”
Out of this unsavory episode was born a positive and historic soccer innovation. The inability of the German referee to communicate verbally with the players was at the heart of the problem. Aston, one of the most respected soccer educators of our time, pondered this as he drove home after an arduous spell of World Cup duty. It seemed that every traffic light was against him. Yellow — caution. Red — stop. Yellow — caution. Red — stop. “That’s it!” decided Aston. “We’ll try colored cards for cautions and dismissals.”
The card system was introduced at the opening game of the 1970 World Cup finals (Mexico vs. Russia). German referee Kurt Tschenscher produced the first yellow card to caution Russia’s Asatiani for foul play. It came out again four times in the match and an average of once per match for the total 32 matches. Not one red card was seen, although it’s been very visible since.
Despite its painful conception from the confusion of that game in 1966, the card system has grown into a universally understood method of communicating disciplinary action and it will once again be in evidence during World Cup ‘98 in France. Although, hopefully not too often.
(Renowned soccer author and official Stanley Lover refereed more than 1,000 matches in European and international leagues and tournaments. Presently living near Paris, he is the author of several books including Soccer Laws Explained, and Know Soccer and Its Rules, which are available from Soccer Learning Systems, San Ramon, Calif.)
