Many of the World Cups that took place during my childhood and teenage years were memorable – 1982 was a bit of a football classic, while 1986 had moments of magic and madness in equal measure.

But if there is one tournament that really stands out as I look back, it was Italia 90.

There was just so much going on: The pulsating, packed stadia. Jürgen Klinsmann’s Olympic diving. Two points for a win for the final time. David Platt’s last-second swiveller. Giorgio Moroder trying to be number one. Paul Gascoigne’s teary heartbreak. Roberto Baggio’s goal against Czechoslovakia. Valderama’s awesome hair. Thirty-eight-year-old Roger Milla scoring and then having sex with the corner flag.

Yes, the football itself wasn’t the best, with goals at a premium. And I am not going to pretend I enjoyed the semi-final where England’s penalty jinx first raised its ugly head.

But for the most part I loved every minute of the 1990 contest, and nothing more so than watching the birth of totally unexpected football hero, a chap called Salvatore “Totò” Schillaci, who took the entire sport by storm for one month of one summer.

The Italian only made his debut for his country in the build-up to the World Cup, started the tournament on the bench, came on to save Italy’s skin before ending up winning not just the golden boot but the golden ball as well.

And then, like a strange sporting ghost, he pretty much vanished without trace. He was like international football’s version of Rick Astley, a true one-hit wonder.

To be fair, Totò wasn’t a total unknown before Italia 90. He was playing for Juventus, so it’s not like he was plucked from third-division obscurity.

But most people only expected him to be a squad member maybe getting the odd 10 minutes as a sub, not take the tournament by storm and slam in six goals.

For me, it’s his celebrations I will remember the most – he just looked like that kid at school who is the last to get picked but goes on to score a worldy to win the game. Overjoyed, surprised, proud, legs pumping, face fixed with a wide-eyed stare.

As if to confirm his incredible World Cup was just a dream, Palermo-born Schillaci pretty much vanished after 1990, never going on to become a top player or enjoying a long and prolific career. Yet that just added to the mystique and drama.

Sadly, Totò passed away last week after losing his battle with cancer at just 59.

But while he is gone, the memory of what he did that summer will live a lot longer in my mind than Never Gonna to Give You Up...

 

The league taaaaable

It’s early days and I don’t like counting any football chickens before they’ve hatched, but I think I may be warming to this new-fangled version of the Champions League.

I had doubts when it was first announced. At face value, it felt like there were too many games being played by too many teams fighting out for final placings in a league table that was an absolute monstrosity.

More than that, I had serious concerns about the competitive integrity of the group stage.

In the past, when groups were made up of just the four teams, everyone played everyone else home and away. And that meant each team enjoyed the benefit of playing every opponent in their own stadium, in familiar surroundings and with the majority of supporters on their side.

I may be warming to this new-fangled version of the Champions League

But that ‘leveller’ has gone now with teams facing four opponents at home and four different opponents away, which feels a bit unbalanced to me.

However, everyone I have discussed this with over the past few weeks has insisted this isn’t a big deal. So, in the interests of moving forward and embracing change, I am going to try and put my doubts to one side and instead enjoy watching the world’s longest league table develop over the next four-and-a-half months.

To be fair, I don’t expect the first few weeks to be overly exciting in pretty much the same way domestic leagues are not that exciting until you enter the business end.

But when we get to the last few games, there will probably be one or two of the bigger teams in danger of missing out on automatic qualification, and maybe even some in danger of missing out on the play-offs, and that is when this new system will really come into its own.

I can see those last match days being full of twists and turns, tears and joy. And for a competition that had become a little stagnated, that can only be a good thing.

 

Arsenal fans still boiling over Rice red

I can’t believe there are still some people out there questioning Declan Rice’s red card against Brighton and Hove Albion last month.

Last week, the referee who gave the Arsenal midfielder his marching orders, Chris Kavanagh, said in an interview he “didn’t like” sending Rice off, but that he had no choice.

And that seems to have reignited the debate over whether the decision was the right one. Arsenal manager Mikel Arteta – who is always available for a good moan – said after the game that he was “amazed, amazed, amazed” that Rice had to go for an early bath.

And, judging by social media last week, there are still plenty of others who think Kavanagh got it wrong.

Let’s clear it up for you all, shall we?

If you kick the ball away, even in a very demure and mindful way, while your opponent is trying to take a quick free kick, you are going to get a card. If you’ve already had a card, then two yellows make a red.

It’s not complicated, it’s the rules.

Now if you point to an example in that same game where a Brighton player kicked the ball away but wasn’t booked, then you’ve got a fantastic point. That is unforgivably bad refereeing and the sort of inconsistency that is causing problems.

But the Rice decision alone, as an isolated event, was 100 per cent correct.

 

E-mail: james.calvert@timesofmalta.com

Twitter: @Maltablade