A documentary about the extraordinary 1982 World Cup sem-final between West Germany and France...\'war without the shooting\'...

1. thrilla in
sevilla
a feature
documentary for
2010.
In 1982, West Germany and France fought one of the most dramatic World Cup
semi-finals, the first to be decided on penalties. A game that made history - and
replayed Franco-German war history backhome. A game, in the words of George
Orwell, that came to symbolise - ‘war without the shooting’.
“It had everything; joy, euphoria, hope, drama, emotion, injustice...it was like an
entire life...the birth, the hatred and tears. Life, basically.” Alain Giresse, France.

2. THRILLA in SEVILLA
PROPOSAL CONTENTS
I KEY INFORMATION
II FILM SUMMARY and CONCEPTUAL TREATMENT
III CONTRIBUTORS/INTERVIEWEE’S
IV DIRECTOR – BIOGRAPHY
V BACKGROUND READING

3. THRILLA in SEVILLA : KEY INFORMATION
Co-producer
(tlc) tlcreative ltd, London. www.tlcreative.co.uk
Contact: Tim Langford: 07973 909741/00 44 7973 909741/timlangfordfilm@mac.com
Genre
Factual Documentary: contemporary + archive.
Marketing/Peg
The next World Cup in 2010 will offer a window of opportunity for World Cup related films. The
1982 game continues to be discussed on the internet, in forums and has been the subject of
several articles and chapters in literature.
Audience
Male bias, 30 +, international. The treatment of the subject is designed to appeal to the non-
football fan but clearly it will have intrinsic appeal to the football public throughout Europe and
beyond. The subject and the issues it raises are sure to provoke some controversy and discussion,
which should garner widespread publicity.
Proposed Duration
70 minutes.
Format
Widescreen, HD.
Language
English-German-French.
Key Elements
Interviews (see Contributor section)
Archive (Sources – French/German/Spanish TV, News, FIFA, ESPN)
Scenes on location
Music (Flamenco + 1982 European pop themes).
Director
Tim Langford (see Biography section).
Research Consultant
Writer Tim Pears. C/ref Background Information below.
Locations
Germany/France/Spain/UK.
Proposed Approach
Small crew for documentary. Observational + formalised interviews + stylistic scenes.
Background Information
See attached Observer Sport feature story, 2008 (see Background Reading section).

4. CONCEPTUAL FILM TREATMENT : THRILLA in SEVILLA
- a 70 minute Feature Documentary -
Summary
A documentary feature (70 minutes) for cinema and television distribution. The story of
the game is told in the words of the players themselves, the managers, their respective
teams fans – inside the stadium and back home watching it unfold on television –
the FIFA officials such as the referee; and the wider football and non-football community.
A story which re-lives and dissects an epic struggle through archive, documentary and
extensive interviews: with the players themselves – such as Platini and Harald (Toni)
Schumacher; to contemporaries like Arsene Wenger and Zinedine Zidane – officials, fans,
journalists, writers and a wider public: from politicians and philosophers to psychologists.
The sheer emotional sweep and dramatic arc of the story lends itself to a cinematic
narrative: indeed the setting of the game (Seville and it’s Flamenco and operatic
associations) and it’s story arc is like that of an opera. The game has been described as a
night when ‘heroic endeavour trumped outrageous villainy’ (Observer, 2008). But this is
also a wider story about the relationship between two nations and how the events on a
football pitch impacted on their respective national reputations:
The French emblematic Cockerel pitched against the German Eagle: two contrasting
neighbours with all their respective certainties and doubts. A pyrrhic victory for Germany: a
game that opened up painful memories in the French collective memory and forced the
German nation to confront aspects of it’s national character: a match which triggered non-
football emotions and awakenings. The film will, therefore, draw out the contrasting wider
cultural and ideological issues that underpin the game: as George Orwell described sport
‘war without the shooting’.
This is a contemporary journey back to 1982 (and by way of the collective memory of two
nations at war in 1940), through Germany, France and Seville: it will re-visit the scene of
the game – the Seville stadium (Estadio Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán) and the city itself.
--------------------------
In the 1982 World Cup, one game, the semi-final between West Germany and France, is
remembered for the extraordinary torrid drama that unfolded in the heat of a Seville night.
“What happened in those two hours encapsulated all the sentiments of life itself.”
Michel Platini
As a football match it was billed as the clash of two schools of thought: German
determination and will to win against French élan. After 90 minutes of building intensity –
punctuated by free flowing, attacking play and incident; such as the notorious Schumacher
foul that incapacitated Battiston – the two teams were tied at 1-1, extra time followed.
“Tell him I’ll pay for the crowns”
Goalkeeper Toni Schumacher

5. The atmosphere crackled, with a feeling less of a sporting occasion than of some
événement, as if the players and the crowd were not in a sporting arena but all out on the
street, and anything could happen. West German attacks were direct, pragmatic, incisive.
The French either counter-attacked at thrilling speed or else slowed the tempo, worked
their way slyly forwards. In extra time the French, led by the inspirational Michel Platini
described as “the lead violin in a sophisticated string quartet”, scored twice to lead 3-1.
“I dies a thousand deaths before I decided to risk further injury…”
Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, watching from the bench
108 minutes in, led by Rummenigge, Germany had fought back to level the score and like
two blind, exhausted fighters the teams slugged it out. But for the first time in World Cup
history the game was decided by penalties with Germany winning 5-4 in a nail biting
dénouement. French manager Michel Hidalgo recalled the France players were
“inconsolable” afterwards, adding: “They were crying like children in the dressing room.”
“Bottles of champagne abandoned…grown-ups seen crying for the first time…old wounds
rekindled that we thought had healed. The biggest football game of the century, at least for
France…”
French Broadcaster and Writer Pierre-Louis Bass, aged 9 in 1982
“People witnessed a great injustice. The match reignited the Franco-German
antagonism that had faded.”
Michel Hidalgo
__________________
Conceptual Treatment
The story will use a classic 3 Act structure – building to an operatic like climax:
1st Act: Setting the scene, the build up and first half:
2nd Act: Second half and extra-time:
3rd Act: Penalty shoot-out and the aftermath.
We hear the clapping, then stepping movements of the Flemenco dance ‘The
Sevillanas’….We are traveling through the back streets of contemporary Seville in
Andalusia, as the sun sets on a humid Summer evening…towards the football stadium
…We hear the words of Michel Platini…recalling the metaphorical heat of the occasion –
and the heat of the sweltering night of July 8th, 1982 – and how he felt inside, waiting in
the dressing room before the game…
We rapidly cut between close-ups of the movements of players with the ball, swishing and
turning, jostling and tackling, running and twisting with the ball at their feet…and intercut
the rapid foot stamping movement of Flamenco dancers…back and forth from football to
Flamenco…as we hear from a writer, describing his ideal fantasy of a game of football “an
exhilarating dance, in which, with our opponents, we create something beautiful"…
… We arrive at the empty stadium…litter blowing across the terraces… the Flamenco
stepping and clapping build…as we hear from two adversaries on the night,

6. Toni Schumacher and Patrick Battiston describing how they prepared for the game...as we
glance around the stadium, the ambient heat rising, we hear a Flamenco guitar…then
singing…and flash cut to 1982…via news archive of the stadium on July 8th, 1982…then
images of the World Cup in Spain…
…And cut to the ceremonial line-up of West Germany and France at their semi-final…and
cut to the singing and hard stepping movements of Flamenco and…back to the faces of
the footballing protagonists singing their respective national
anthems…Platini…Battiston…Schumacher…Rocheteau…Hrubesch….then back to the
Flamenco dancers. They reach a climax and the performers face each other in a series of
proud and provocative poses…as we hear the national anthems over the Flamenco
dancers watching each other and cut to the faces of the players…
The film’s title – THRILLA in SEVILLA
- rolls across screen…underscored by the quickening tempo of the Flamenco
soundtrack…as we introduce the 1982 World Cup, a fast montage of images of the
event…and then gradually see and hear from members of the two football team
protagonists…Germany and France…
cont. ‘CONTRIBUTORS, OVERVIEW’

7. CONTRIBUTORS, OVERVIEW
Summary
Players, managers, officials, fans, journalists, writers, philosophers and psychologists…
FRANCE (1982 TEAM) : CONTRIBUTORS/INTERVIEWEES
Michel Hidalgo, the Manager of the French team:
“People witnessed a great injustice. The match reignited the Franco-German antagonism
that had faded.”
In the post-match dressing room he described the inconsolable players as -
“crying like children.”
Alain Giresse:
“It had everything: joy,euphoria,hope,drama,emotion,injustice…It was like an entire
life.There was the birth…the hatred, even and tears. Life, basically….”
“I still have a knot in my stomach and it hurts to this very day.”
Dominique Rocheteau, dark and handsome, with the flowing ringlets of a
musketeer…the fans called him ‘The Green Angel’. Noted for his forthright far-left views
and involved with the French Communist Party.
Michel Platini:
“This was my most beautiful game, What happened in those two hours encapsulated all
the sentiments of life itself.” “If only we had realised how good we were.”
Maxime Bossis, who went back a long way with Platini: they had done their military
service together – how did that inform their attitude and solidarity?
Bossis, for many, ‘encapsulated the spirit’ of the team and France.
Didier Six, who shot poorly and saw his crucial penalty kick saved.
Patrick Battiston, through on goal, then brutally struck by German keeper Toni
Schumacher, collapsed into a coma and taken to hospital. Famously, Platini kissed him as
he was carried away on the stretcher.
GERMANY (1982 TEAM) : CONTRIBUTORS/INTERVIEWEES
Toni Schumacher, goalkeeper, on Battiston’s injury inflicted by Schumacher:
“Tell him I’ll pay for the crowns” – on knocking out Battiston and his two teeth.
For many the chief villain of the game. Voted into 2nd place behind Hitler in a French
newspaper poll.
Paul Breitner, the teams ‘marshal’ and driving force.

8. Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, on the sub’s bench watching for 90 minutes, sidelined
by injury:
“I dies a thousand deaths before I decided to risk further injury…”
Horst Hrubesch, given the nickname in Germany of ‘The Header Beast’:
Brian Glanville called him ‘a human Panzer division in himself’.
Hrubesch scored the winning penalty.
Uli Stielike, defender:
Fell down on his knees in his despair when his penalty shot was saved. Keeper, Toni
Schumacher went over to console him and told him “don’t worry, I’ll save the next one”.
After he did as promised, he pointed without smiling to Stielike as if to say ‘I told you so.’
Pierre Littbarski, who scored the opening goal.
Klaus Fischer, who scored a spectacular equalizer, in extra time, to bring the scores level
to 3-3.
OTHER CONTRIBUTORS/INTERVIEWS
Zinedine Zidane, famously sent off in his last game for France, on Alain Giresse’s goal:
“He had an anger and a desire when he scored, with his little arms shaking.”
Eric Cantona, former ‘maverick’, rebellious player turned actor.
Potential narrator of the film and interviewee.
Jurgen Klnsman, former international player and coach:
“We try to concentrate on our power…until the adversary finally cracks and is
overwhelmed.”
Franz Beckenbauer:
Who confided to the press his opinion about France, shortly before the ’82 game, “it must
be hard, because they hate playing physical.”
Arsene Wenger, Arsenal Manager.
Lothar Matthaus, former international German captain, with outspoken views about
German identity.
Pele, who described footballer Alain Giresse:
“I liked how his brain was organising things on the pitch…the European footballer of the
1980s.”
Charles Corver, the Dutch Referee, who controversially refused to send off the German
goalkeeper Toni Schumacher.
Pierre Rigal, renowned French experimental choreographer and maker of video’s, created
the dance ‘Judgements Thursday’, in 2006, inspired by memories, as a 9 year old,

9. of the game on television. He based it on the ‘82 semi-final game, the dance took the
shape of a tragedy – weaving together mythologies and collective memories with the rites
of passage from childhood to adulthood.
Likens the game to a passage of initiation for a 9 year old child. The French players ‘frail
and enthusiastic’ facing the ‘ogre German’s, rigorous, disciplined, aggressive and
physically bigger’. It brought to mind something deep in the French psyche about the
Second World War, “Sport…can also catalyze myths, fantasies and clichés. This was the
case tonight in July 1982.”
Brian Glanville, English football writer and broadcaster:
He likened the German defence to characters not out of place in some war film and
likened the French midfield to “four artists”, Michel Platini “the lead violinist in a
sophisticated string quartet.”
Harald Martenstein, German Columnist:
“What can we be proud of…of the Goethe-Schiller-Beethoven culture complex, but what
do the kids in Manila know about that? We are left with the global visiting-card of soccer.”
Georges Boulogne, French technical coach. Appointed in 1970 as chief training officer by
the French Football Federation:
He set out to revolutionise football in France ‘blending skill and physical endurance’ and
nurtured the seeds of the team that played in ’82,
Pierre-Louis Bass, journalist, writer and host on ‘Europe 1’, (co-wrote a biography of Eric
Cantona, made an album with Zinedine Zidane and Christophe Dugarry:
Wrote of watching the game as a 6 year old. He described the scene in his parents living
room, post-match, “Bottles of champagne abandoned…grown-ups seen crying for the first
time…old wounds rekindled that we thought had healed. The biggest football game of the
century, at least for France…” He wrote, 25 years later, he finally came to understand the
reasons for the defeat.
Jean Cau, French philosophical writer:
“Everything is war. From 1914 and 1940. From 1982 when, for the third time in a century,
France faced Germany in a match and on the battlefield in Seville.”
Laurent Lasne, French author of Football Uber Alles:
A book about the Franco-German relations on the football ground and in the trenches. Set
out to reconstruct, through meetings on the pitch, the development of political relations
between the two countries.
Tim Pears, English writer and novelist (consultant research/interviewee):
Wrote the Observer Sports Magazine feature article about the game in 2008.
Likened the ideal of sport as an ‘exhilarating dance’ in which two sides create something
beautiful (an echo of Michel Platini’s philosophy) and yet so often the game of football is
about national self-esteem, using sport as a metaphor for war where one side attempts to
dominate the other: in the words of the author of ‘1984’, George Orwell, “war minus the
shooting.”

10. DIRECTOR – brief BIOGRAPHY
Tim Langford (of tlcreative ltd) is an, award-winning director-producer (2008: Clarion
Award – Best Video, ‘Torn’/IVCA Silver and Bronze ‘Torn’ in Best Documentary and
Charity/Welfare) and writer with broadcast credits ranging from the BBC, MTV and
Channel 4 to overseas broadcasters: RTE, MBC and Chello. He has worked freelance and
through his own company (tlc ltd) for many years: working across drama, documentary,
corporate communications, advertising, marketing and promotions. His short film work is
curated at the British Film Institute in London.
His career has taken many diverse twists and turns from running an audio-visual
production agency for a local authority and managing an independent production
company; to making fashion videos; interviewing Al Pacino for Channel 4.
His current documentary work includes the cricket docu-drama ‘Cut-n-Run’, a co-
production with an Indian studio, about the real life slumdog-style story of Indian street
cricket, from the slum to the stadium.
He is the director-cinematographer of the feature documentary ‘Ali Richard - Shakespeare
in Arabia’, a fly-on-the-wall odyssey filmed across Syria, the United Arab Emirates,
Kuwait, Iraq, The Lebanon and Washington earlier in 2009. Part screw-ball style real-life
farce and part serious dissection of the contemporary Arab world, the film follows a group
of well known Arab actors on tour, performing Richard the Third to Sheiks, princes and
paupers.
He is also the co-writer of the Indian feature screenplay ‘The Desire’ which will star Shilpa
Shetty, to be directed in Kerela by Indian film director Sarath.
Recent films include the groundbreaking film on UK asylum seekers ‘Torn’ and the
picaresque documentary ‘Hamlet in Kuwait’, exploring the psychological state of Kuwait
after the Gulf War.

11. BACKGROUND READING
'My most beautiful game'
This is how Platini described France's 1982 World Cup semi-final
against West Germany, a match of high drama and one notorious foul.
Tim Pears recalls a night on which heroic endeavour trumped
outrageous villainy
Tim Pears
The Observer, Sunday October 26 2008
Article history
Football matches imprint themselves upon the memory for a variety of reasons. Contrary to what
one may imagine, it is rarely for the quality of play. The connoisseur, dra wn back to classics, is
often disappointed by ho w play has moved on: great players of the past no w look slow- witted.
One match, however, when returned to, proves to be of an astonishing quality: the second semi-
final of the 1982 World Cup, bet ween West Germany and France. Michel Platini was the French
captain that night and has said: 'That was my most beautiful game. What happened in those t wo
hours encapsulated all the sentiments of life itself. No film or play could ever recapture so many
contradictions and emotions. It was complete. So strong. It was fabulous.'
West Germany's presence in the semis was not widely welcomed. In their opening group game,
Algeria, 1,000-1 outsiders to win the competition, had beaten the European champions 2-1. After
Algeria defeated Chile in their final group game, Austria and West Germany met a day later knowing
that if the Germans won by either one or t wo goals they would both go through.
The first 10 minutes were played at a furious pace until the deadlock was broken by a Horst
Hrubesch goal for the Germans. Thereafter, for the remaining 80 minutes, both teams strolled
around the pitch, passing the ball sideways and backwards. There was not a single meaningful
shot on goal. The outraged, largely Spanish cro wd yelled 'Fuera, fuera' ('Out, out'). Algerian
supporters waved banknotes at the players. One West German fan burned his national flag in
protest.
The West German camp failed to appreciate what all the fuss was about. Coach Jupp Derwall said:
'We wanted to progress, not play football.' When fans gathered in front of the squad hotel,

12. demanding the players justify themselves, members of the team thre w water-filled balloons on their
o wn supporters from the windo ws of their rooms.
Their semi-final was at the Estadio Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán, on 8 July 1982. Kick-off was 9pm but it
was a muggy night in Seville, with the temperature in the high nineties. France had a day fe wer to
recover from their last group match, but this handicap had been balanced by nature, a stomach bug
affecting their opponents. The Förster brothers and striker Klaus Fischer were among those
affected.
Michel Platini and the bearded Manny Kaltz, standing in as captain for Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, who
was on the bench with a damaged hamstring, shook hands with the officials: Dutch referee
Charles Corver and his linesmen, Swiss Bruno Galler and Scot Robert Valentine. The captains
tossed a coin, s wapped pennants. There was a noisy, carnivalesque atmosphere.
During the early stages Germany were in charge. Paul Breitner, the only survivor of West
Germany's 1974 World Cup- winning side, had retired from the national team but been persuaded
back by Der wall: playing now not at full-back but in central midfield, Breitner had become his team's
marshal. He would set off on diagonal runs, driving into space in French territory, spearing passes
for his colleagues to run on to. A sense of purpose coursed through German moves.
In the 17th minute Breitner cadged the ball off midfield grafter Wolfgang Dremmler just inside the
France half and, seeing space ahead of him, burst into it, brushing off Didier Six's feeble challenge.
Breitner headed towards the middle then, faced by a wall of blue, veered off to wards the left
before stabbing the ball with the outside of his right foot perfectly into the path of Klaus Fischer.
Jean-Luc Ettori rushed out from his goal and dived at Fischer's feet: he blocked the run but failed to
gather the ball, which rolled slowly back out towards the edge of the penalty area. It was teed up
nicely for young Pierre Littbarski, West Germany's find of the tournament, who drilled it through a
litter of French bodies and into the net.
One-nil.
Where the West Germany players seemed to have settled to a similar tempo, the same speed of
thought and movement, the French were more moody. Marius Trésor and Bernard Janvion in the
middle of the defence and Maxime Bossis on the right all had their socks rolled down, Bossis with
his shin-pads flapping out, as if to flaunt their insouciance. Up front the team were light and lop-
sided. Dominique Rocheteau had made his name as a pacy right- winger at Saint-Etienne. He was
dark and handsome, with the flo wing ringlets of a musketeer; fans of Les Verts called Rocheteau
'The Green Angel', although his looks belied both his work-rate and, rare for a footballer, his political

13. a wareness: known for his left- wing vie ws and association with the Revolutionary Communist
League, today Rocheteau is head of the National Commission of Ethics of the French Football
Association.
Playing as a lone striker, ho wever, was too great a burden, especially as he received little help
from Six - a winger with corkscre w hair, an ornamental player out on the left who occasionally
drifted inside to scant purpose.
If the France for wards suffered in comparison with those behind them, it could be said that so
would anyone. The midfield was led by Platini, described by one journalist as 'the lead violin in a
sophisticated string quartet'. Patrolling the ground bet ween centre circle and opposition penalty
area, Platini was invariably in the right place to receive a pass and did so alone, when one might
have expected an opponent to be beside him. He then became the still centre of a hurtling world,
a ware of all that could happen. For a moment it was as if the other players became satellites of his
calm mind. He would make a pass into inexplicable space, which it would take a second or t wo for
the game to catch up with: Bossis or Jean Tigana ran on to the ball, and only then could everyone
see ho w exquisite the pass was.
The rest of the quartet was not bad. Alain Giresse, just 5ft 4in, had a good engine and a lovely
cushioned touch with his right boot. Tigana, a team-mate of Giresse at Bordeaux, had not become a
professional until his early t wenties, spotted as an amateur while working as a postman. Though
slight, and elegant, Tigana was a po werful runner with the ball. He also had a markedly slow
heartbeat and tremendous stamina.
The fourth member was Bernard Genghini, a leggy left-footer as elegant as, if a little less effective
than, his colleagues. 'Four artists,' as Brian Glanville puts it in The History of the World Cup, 'no real
hard man, no tackler, among them.'
Having scored their goal, there was no let-up in West Germany's attacking momentum. But France,
too, began to string passes together. Trésor drove for ward in a manner rarely seen from stoppers
today. Full-back Manny Kaltz caught Genghini after the ball had gone. Genghini bit him back, but
France had the free-kick, midway bet ween centre circle and penalty area on the left-hand side.
Giresse floated the ball with the outside of his right foot into the right-hand side of the area. Platini
outjumped Dremmler to head the ball towards the six-yard line, where Berndt Förster made his
clearing volley easier by wrestling Rocheteau out of the way with an arm around his waist. Corver
had no hesitation in blowing his whistle and pointing to the penalty spot.
Platini kissed the ball before placing it on the spot, and walking backwards. On the goalline,

14. che wing gum, gloved hands on hips, Harald Schumacher glared at the ball, at Platini, at the
effrontery of a penalty a warded against West Germany. Platini kept walking back. For a moment it
looked like he might forget to stop walking. He reached the edge of the penalty area, and still kept
going. Was he intimidated by Schumacher's cold-eyed gaze? Still he kept retreating, right through
the arc outside the penalty area. Finally Platini stopped, began walking, then jogging, back.
Schumacher flung himself to his left. Platini struck the ball with the flat of his right foot, sending it
just inside the opposite post.
One-all, after 27 minutes.
West Germany resumed possession. The game was rougher 25 years ago than it is today. The
France left-back Manuel Amoros had got away with hacks at Littbarski; now Tigana, scuttling with
the ball out of defence after a West German attack had been repelled, was brutally taken out by
Dremmler in a way that no w would earn an instant yellow card, at least.
Trésor made another irruption into the West German half, passing the ball, continuing his run
towards the left-hand corner flag, receiving the return pass, laying the ball back to Amoros, who
crossed. Six flicked it on ineffectually, too far from Platini, too close to the goalkeeper. Schumacher
contrived not only to gather the ball unimpeded but to keep moving and thump Platini's thigh with his
shoulder. Platini, wincing, complained. It was an act of petty aggression for which Schumacher
knew he would receive no punishment - he had the ball in his hands, no referee would have given
a penalty - but it was a taste of what was to come.
The second half was barely under way when Rocheteau received the ball in an unthreatening
position out on the right, facing his o wn goal, whereupon Berndt Förster, running up behind him,
jumped and somehow kneed Rocheteau in the shoulder. It was an imbecilic assault, for which
Förster was fortunate to receive only a yellow card.
Genghini had taken a knock and, unable to run it off, was replaced. As Patrick Battiston ran on to
the pitch a West German cross from the right drifted all the way over to Bossis, who controlled the
ball, dummied first to pass it back, then to hoof it upfield, only to waltz around Felix Magath and
Fischer before releasing the ball to Tigana on the right. Tigana slipped it inside to Battiston, who
played a one-t wo with Giresse then sped for ward, fresh legs devouring ground, before blasting a
left-footed shot narro wly wide.
The most striking impression, watching the match at a distance of more than 25 years, is of a less
disciplined yet more intelligent game than is played today. Every outfield player appears to have had
greater autonomy. Both teams passed and moved with thoughtful fluidity; they bristled with

15. intelligent purpose.
West Germany continued their pressing game. Midfielder Magath was like a little eel, slipping into
pockets of space. Breitner played his sharp passes, probing for a way through the ribs of the
French defence. But the defence stood firm.
France began to take the upper hand. A Platini free-kick 10 yards outside the West German area
cannoned off the wall. Giresse floated a lovely pass from just inside his o wn half, out on the left.
On the edge of the penalty area, Rocheteau seemed to judge the flight of the ball better than Berndt
Förster: it drifted beyond the German, bounced once, and Rocheteau scuffed it past the onrushing
Schumacher. But the referee had blown, deciding Rocheteau had impeded Förster.
Then Platini cut in from the left, dribbling past Kaltz across the face of the area, feinting past Uli
Stielike, but shooting wide. The ball was s wallowed by the sea of French fans. Many waved
tricolores, while close-ups sho wed others with cymbals, trumpets, hooters. They were having a
good time. Schumacher stood glaring, waiting for the ball to come back, but it was held on to, less
by an individual, it seemed, than by the cro wd as a whole. When, eventually, a Fifa technician gave
Schumacher a fresh ball, he mimicked hurling it at the French fans, before taking the goal-kick. Had
we just seen a humorous gesture - 'Would you like this ball too?' - or was it mockingly aggressive?
After some seconds of surprised silence, boos began to be heard.
Barely a minute later came the incident that has acquired such notoriety. Bossis won the ball with a
superb tackle on Dremmler, and passed to Tigana, who laid it inside to Platini. With a momentary
glance Platini appraised the scene before him, saw Battiston charging for ward and floated the ball
into the air.
The pass had just the height, pace and backspin to take it beyond Karl-Heinz Förster, to a spot
where Battiston would reach it before the s weeper Uli Stielike, coming from the left, or Harald
Schumacher charging out.
Battiston got to the ball first and kicked it over the oncoming keeper's head. Everyone's gaze
followed the ball, which bounced narro wly wide of goal, so people only glimpsed that Schumacher
had made contact with Battiston. Watching replays, it was clear what had happened. As the
German journalist Ulrich Hesse-Lichtenberger puts it: 'Just prior to crashing into Battiston he
[Schumacher] did a little jump and turned his upper body in order to ease the impact. Ease it for
himself, that is, as the helpless Battiston was hit in the face by Schumacher's hipbone with full
force, immediately going down unconscious.'

16. France players - and the West Germany captain, Kaltz - surrounded the stricken man and began
waving for help. The French physio and doctor ran on, and immediately called for a stretcher. By
grim chance the Seville police had, for some unknown reason, barred Red Cross officials from the
sidelines. It took three minutes for a stretcher to appear, lifted up from some basement store
beneath the stands. Eventually uniformed men with Red Cross armbands trotted on.
Schumacher, meanwhile stood, impassively at the edge of his six-yard box, ball under one arm, the
other hand on his hip. According to Hesse-Lichtenberger: 'His body language said: "Get the guy off
the pitch so that I can take my goal-kick."'
Giresse and Janvion came to the touchline to tell their manager, Michel Hidalgo, what had happened
to Battiston, and to work out how to rearrange the team, only for a Fifa official to step bet ween
them, since coaches were forbidden from discussing tactics with their players during the match.
Hidalgo, furious, grumbled back to the dug-out.
One might have thought the captain would have been the one to confer with the manager. But not
this one. Platini later said that he thought his team-mate was dead. 'He had no pulse. He looked so
pale.' Finally Battiston was carried off, accompanied on one side by a medic, on the other by Platini,
who walked along bent towards Battiston's ashen face. The unconscious player's right arm
flopped over the side of the stretcher, and Platini took Battiston's hand. He spoke softly to him as he
walked. As they neared the edge of the pitch, Platini raised Battiston's hand and kissed it.
Battiston lost t wo teeth, had three cracked ribs and damaged vertebrae, and was unconscious for
almost half an hour. But now that he was off the pitch, play restarted, with indeed a goal-kick for
West Germany, and no word of reprimand for Schumacher.
A ne w substitute, Christian Lopez, came on for France and play got going. It appeared that if
anything West Germany had been chastened by the incident, while France were hunting the ball. A
purposeful fury seemed to burn through the team. Once, when the ball ran loose out on the left,
Trésor chased after it and took off for a tackle like a long-jumper, a murderous, studs-up lunge from
which Kaltz wisely stepped aside. While the referee reproved Trésor, Platini walked behind and
ruffled his hair in blatant approval.
The atmosphere crackled, with a feeling less of a sporting occasion than of some événement, as if
the players and the cro wd were not in a sporting arena but all out on the street, and anything could
happen.
France attacked with further s wift interchanges. But they could not score and no w West Germany,

17. midway through the half, began to stir again. Hans-Peter Briegel galvanised his team with one of his
po werful runs out of defence. Magath almost got through on the left. Dremmler shot from the right,
Ettori getting down well to hold on to the ball.
After 72 minutes little Magath was replaced by his Hamburg club-mate, blond giant Horst Hrubesch,
known as Das Kopfball-Ungeheuer, the Heading Beast. Hrubesch was just about as big as Briegel,
who was 'a human Panzer division in himself', according to Brian Glanville. Kaltz, Schumacher, the
Förster brothers, too, could easily be imagined playing starring roles in some war film. It was hard
not to notice the marked contrast to the multiracial French. Trésor had been born in Guadeloupe,
Janvion in Martinique, Tigana in Mali, Lopez in Algeria. Platini, Amoros, Genghini were the children or
grandchildren of immigrants. At the 1998 World Cup, Platini would not be alone in his opinion that
'the people who talk about a black, white and beur [North African] France were 30 years late.
France has been black, white and beur for a long time. I was shocked by this discussion in '98.
These people do not look around themselves very much.'
By no w, all four full-backs were wonderfully adventurous - Kaltz whipping in his bananenflanken,
Bossis roaming for ward - and they ended up more often tackling each other, overlapping, than the
putative attackers. Didier Six, well placed on the six-yard line, shot tamely straight at Schumacher.
At the other end, Breitner fed Briegel, who evaded Bossis's tackle and shot against the spread-
eagled Ettori. The game was once more open, s w aying one way then another. West German
attacks were direct, pragmatic, incisive. The French either counter-attacked at thrilling speed or
else slo wed the tempo, worked their way slyly forwards. The better France played, the easier they
made it look, trading the ball bet ween each other, the West Germans apparently un willing to
intercept.
With less than five minutes left, Tigana picked the ball up in his o wn half and surged do wn the right
past first Breitner, then Briegel, and sent a marvellous cross hanging perfectly to the far post,
where in the absence of a defender Rocheteau managed to get in Six's way, depriving the winger
of a clear heading opportunity. The last chance of the 90 minutes, surely.
But no. France once more gained possession. Platini laid the ball into the path of Amoros with a 20-
yard gap in front of him. Amoros drove for ward and from 35 yards out let fly a missile of a shot.
Schumacher dived in vain, the ball flew over him, dipping, and on 90 minutes and 02 seconds hit the
underside of the bar... and bounced out.
There was, necessarily, a good deal of injury time to be added, in the third minute of which Tigana
lost possession to Breitner, outside the left of the France penalty area. Breitner shot towards the

18. far post. Ettori dived to his left but fumbled the ball: it dribbled away from him and, as he scuttled
after it, Klaus Fischer bore do wn like a bird of prey. Denied a chance all night by Janvion, he was
suddenly presented with this morsel. It was a race bet ween the tips of Ettori's gloves and the toe
of Fischer's right boot, which the Frenchman just, bravely, won, poking the ball away for a corner.
One-all, at full-time.
Now the managers could talk to their players, who collapsed on the grass. Trainers, physios, subs
came on to pass round water, massage the muscles of tired legs.
Those of us watching then - as no w, so many years later - knew that we were witnessing
something extraordinary, but fe w could have imagined how much more these players were to give
us. In the third minute of extra time, Briegel obstructed Platini out on the right, and now something
inexplicable happened. The penalty area was packed. As Giresse shaped to dispatch the free-kick,
France players began to move, to dart this way and that, their markers shado wed them, and at the
moment Giresse's cross arrived the middle of the penalty area was suddenly empty. Except for the
French s weeper, Marius Trésor, who stood all alone just in front of the penalty spot. With perfect,
joyful technique, he walloped the volley into the net.
Two-one.
The French celebrated and when play resumed there was something hectic about their movement.
They dashed helter-skelter. It appears, watching the match again, as if they were intoxicated with a
sense of justice. A wrong had been done, and was being put right, and the more they attacked so
the more justice would be served. They broke forward again, Tigana shooting wide.
Jupp Der wall brought his injured but totemic captain, current European Footballer of the Year Karl-
Heinz Rummenigge, off the bench in place of Briegel, and the substitution jolted the Germans: a
shock of effort rippled through the team, sending them pulsing for ward, without threatening the
French goal. On the contrary. In his own half, Giresse tapped a simple free-kick up the right to
Rocheteau, who advanced and squared the ball to Platini on the front edge of the penalty area.
Faced with three defenders ahead of him, Platini sent the ball on across to Six on the left. Six
controlled the ball and then, in his most positive contribution of the match, caressed the ball from
one foot to another while others moved around him: Platini went for ward then suddenly out to the
right, dragging defenders with him as if magnetised. Into space in the middle came Alain Giresse,
and now Six laid the ball off gently, invitingly, into his path. Giresse met the ball with the outside of
his right foot, giving it a flight path that curved outside Schumacher's dive and then inside towards
the goal, glancing in off the right-hand post.

19. Three-one, in extra-time.
France did not sit on their lead, by playing square passes simply to keep possession. They wanted
to score a fourth, and surged for ward. Six was fouled, another Platini free-kick. This one ripped
through the wall and cannoned back off Schumacher's chest.
'Germany are dissolving,' the commentator Martin Tyler said. 'I can't remember ever saying that
about a German side.' Giresse, Rocheteau, the marauding Bossis, Tigana and Platini attacked all
together do wn the right. Six was in the middle ahead of them. This was ho w these musketeers
would protect their lead: attack in numbers. Giresse was fouled and lay in pain. Rocheteau stopped
playing to attend to his comrade, but the French retained possession and the referee waved play
on. A moment later Platini was bundled off the ball: no free-kick was given and suddenly the French
had lost possession with half their team stranded high upfield. Rummenigge and Littbarski combined
on the vacant left, Stielike joined in, the s weeper at last making an advanced contribution with a fine
pass out to Littbarski, who floated the ball for ward into space at the near post bet ween the France
defence and the goalkeeper. Janvion and Rummenigge ran for ward, Ettori rushed out, all three
lunged but the West German got there first, and with a deft, incisive flick sent the ball past Ettori and
fractionally inside the near post.
Three-two after 103 minutes.
Into the second period of extra time and, if there w as a lesson to be learnt, France sho wed no sign
of having learnt it. They seemed incapable of common sense or caution: compelled to win with
s washbuckling style, they recalled the writer André Breton's dictum that 'beauty shall be
convulsive, or not at all'. But all this emotion was exhausting. Tigana would keep running all night
and Rocheteau remained a courageous, willing target man. Trésor was a to wering figure at the
heart of the defence. But all around them, one by one, French players were coming to a standstill.
West Germany advanced do wn the left, Littbarski crossed, Hrubesch headed back from the far
post into the middle. Klaus Fischer had been dominated throughout by Bernard Janvion. But a top-
class striker has to be obtuse, undismayed by all that has gone before, eternally alert to that one
opportunity. There were t wo defenders plus the goalkeeper on the line, but Fischer met Hrubesch's
lay-off with a brilliantly executed bicycle kick into the top corner.
Three-three after 108 minutes.
Janvion was limping. Platini was drained. But still the game remained open. Like t wo blind,
exhausted fighters the teams kept going. From a West German corner Fischer knocked the ball back

20. into the danger area. Trésor leapt to head clear and the ball was worked up to Six, who played it
out to space on the right into which Tigana - clearly in pain still from an earlier collision - struggled:
he reached the ball before Stielike and shot, well wide. It was the last significant action of the
game. Moments later Corver blew his whistle.
'So, abominably, irrationally and unforgivably,' as Brian Glanville wrote, 'a World Cup semi-final
would be decided, for the first time, on penalties.'
Giresse, Kaltz, Amoros, Breitner and Rocheteau all scored. Uli Stielike shot weakly, Ettori easily
saved. Stielike collapsed, curled up on the ground. Eventually, as if his body had doubled in weight,
he dragged himself up and stumbled back towards his colleagues in the centre, bent head in hands,
weeping. Littbarski came to meet him, and escorted him back, arm around the older man's
shoulders.
But then Didier Six shot softly to Schumacher's right, for an easy save, and Littbarski evened things
up at 3-3.
Platini and Rummenigge scored. Next up came Maxime Bossis. An exact contemporary of Platini -
the t wo born just five days apart in June 1955 - they had done their military service together in the
Joinville battalion, and their 10-year international careers ran in tandem. If Platini embodied the art of
this team, Bossis encapsulated its spirit, and was prime candidate for man of the match. He struck
his penalty to Schumacher's right, and watched as the goalkeeper dived the same way: although
the shot was a half-decent one, the save was easy enough.
Horst Hrubesch no w lumbered up, and shot low and hard for the winning penalty. West Germany
were through to the final.
As Jupp Der wall asserted after wards: 'You must give my players the credit they deserve, they
sho wed such strength of character.' And so they had. 'The taste, however,' according to Brian
Glanville, 'was exceedingly sour. Michel Hidalgo, by nature quiet and moderate, condemned
Corver's flaccid refereeing. "We have been eliminated brutally," he insisted.' Even in a recent
interview, the wound for Hidalgo was still fresh. 'People witnessed a great injustice. The match
reignited the Franco-German antagonism that had faded.'
When Schumacher was told after the match that Battiston had lost t wo teeth, he said: 'If that's all
that's wrong, tell him I'll pay for the cro wns.' In a post-World Cup poll in a newspaper for the least
popular person among the French, Schumacher shaded Adolf Hitler into second place.

21. In the final Italy, to universal approval, won 3-1. According to Ulrich Hesse-Lichtenberger: 'The
[West Germany] side returned home expecting to be hailed as the second best team in the world.
Instead, the squad was met with frosty silence, if not outright disgust.'
Two years later, on home soil, in the 1984 European Championship, France would pursue the
destiny of which they had been robbed. Genghini's place in midfield was taken by Luis Fernandez,
who ate up the ground and won the ball for the three artists around him, in a quartet that was given
the sobriquet Le Carré Magique, the Magic Square.
Playing with both panache and conviction, France won the tournament; Platini was the outstanding
star, scoring from midfield nine of his side's 15 goals. Yet such is his insight into the meaning of
sport, that no memory equals that torrid night in Seville, when he was on the losing side, but in
every significant way emerged a winner.
Where are they now?
France
Patrick Battiston
Despite losing t wo teeth and suffering vertebra damage in the Schumacher challenge, Battiston
doesn't bear a grudge: 'I feel no hate,' he said in July. The defender retired in 1991 after a second
spell at Bordeaux and is no w coach of that club's reserves.
Didier Six
The winger became a French pioneer in English football when he joined Aston Villa in 1984. He now
runs a summer soccer camp in Metz, but wants a pro coaching job - in 2007 he complained that
getting into management in France was like joining the mafia.
Marius Tresor
The scorer of France's second extra-time goal, Platini's predecessor as captain was named one of
the 125 greatest players of all time by Pelé in 2004. He finished his playing career at Bordeaux in
1984, and is no w a director and assistant coach at the club.

22. West Germany
Harald Schumacher
Nicknamed Toni, his international career was ended by allegations of substance abuse he made in
a 1987 book. Schumacher no w o wns and runs SportsFirst, a consultancy agency with Bundesliga
club Schalke 04 and the German FA on its books.
Karl-Heinz Rum menigge
The striker retired in 1989 before returning to his first club, Bayern Munich, as an executive in 1991.
He became the club's chairman in 2002 and has since also become chairman of the European Club
Association, the larger successor to the G-14 lobby group.
Pierre Littbarski
Scorer of West Germany's glorious opener, Littbarski ended his playing career in Japan in 1997. He
has since become a well travelled manager in the J-League, Germany, Australia and Iran. He left
struggling Iranian Premier League team Saipa in October.