Original subtitles

In everyone's life, there are rare moments when the world seems to stand

A second seems like a thousand years.

A single heartbeat becomes infinity.

Can he do it for England?

Rare are still the moments when not just one person,

But a whole nation stops.

Holds its breath.

Hopes.

Prays.

When dreams unite for a split second.

A decisive moment.

When everything could change.

And then, all of a sudden, we're back to square one.

I confess to do anything I read.

But once the west went between your knees.

Handed out big, six of his teeth.

Oh man, did you fuck it, baby brother, I took it. And I built up the back for

the image goal.

And I built up the back for the image goal.

Because the Lord, the God, the Lord knows them all.

England. England.

What the hell had happened to England?

In England, you just do not expect people to be so vicious and violent.

The world was changing fast.

The Berlin Wall fell.

Mandela walked free.

But in England?

We stayed on our island with its polluted beaches and our hospitals where

comes through the roof.

And our schools that can't afford books.

And our fading industries.

A nation with a ridiculous government.

An economy in a tailspin.

Food you dare not eat and weather you dare not go out in.

These, it seemed, were the new holidays of a nation that was all played out.

A nation of riot in the Opry.

And the one thing that summed us all up was our football.

On the eve of England's departure for Italy, Bobby Robson arrived at a

arranged press conference in furious mood.

There

is

absolutely no truth whatsoever in all the speculation, rubbish

that we've seen in one or two publications today.

The news conference then degenerated into a shambles as Robson threatened to

walk out, angered by the persistence of photographers.

But tonight, Bobby Robson says he's trying to think only of his country. He

a job to do before he quits, and he's determined to give the World Cup his

Every story needs a hero, and this one comes in perhaps an unlikely shape.

Robert William Robson, a one -time coal miner from the northeast of England and

later professional footballer.

As a player, he'd reached the fringes of the national team, but never held any

silverware.

And a penalty!

Twelve minutes to go, and Robson detects perhaps the most vital penalty of his

life.

Management had been a different story.

He'd engineered the rise of the provincial town of Ipswich to unlikely

glory.

Earning himself promotion to be manager of the English national football team.

I took the job because I wanted to take it. Any person with ambition and hope

would take it anyway. It's a great job. If I can get it right, it's utopia.

At first, things seemed rosy as he guided England to the quarter -finals of

1986 World Cup.

Until the hand of fate intervened.

The first goal should never have been allowed.

But Maradona has put the seal on his greatness.

He scored a goal that England just couldn't cope with, they couldn't face

to. It was beyond their ability.

It's England 0, Diego Maradona 2.

A certain guy said to me, are you aware how disappointed sad people are at home?

What a pretty stupid question to ask. Am I aware?

You should be coming here at the end of the match or in the dressing rooms and

see how the players themselves feel.

Indifferent results led to a press campaign urging the resignation of the

manager, Bobby Robson. England's hollow victory must try harder.

Daily Express, thank God that's all over.

England's performance in the European Championships was desperately

unsuccessful. Three consecutive defeats in West Germany.

The team have made eight, nine, ten clear -cut chances and we fail. That's

nothing to do with management. That's got to do about that player in that

position putting the ball in the back of the net.

Bobby Robson won't be quite so relieved when he sees the sun. The campaign goes

on and that is under the title of England Crackers.

Special. Right now, our football is in the basement.

If we don't win handsomely, like four or five goals, unfortunately, Tony,

another nail in Mr. Robson's coffin.

Do you think a headline like Plonker is fair?

Well, I think it's a bit of a mickey take, isn't it? The English public at

moment are laughing a bit of England.

You make me laugh, you chaps. You say, oh, well, it isn't about the result. And

the first time or the only time or whenever it occurs that we get bad

you go absolutely berserk and over the top.

Some do, some do.

Don't come and talk to me about it doesn't matter about results when

play. It matters every match wherever we play.

In 1989, England faced Poland in their final qualifying match for the World

Needing to avoid defeat or Robson's dream would be over.

The squad that night was made up of Robson's most trusted lieutenants.

Captain namesake and frequent visitor to the treatment room, Brian Robson.

Stryker, an all -round nice guy, Gary Goldenboot Lineker.

Ironman defender, Terry Godsave the Queen Butcher.

Enigmatic underachieving wingman, Chris Waddle.

And number one on the team sheet, veteran goalkeeper, Peter Shilton.

It was the Poles who seemed most hungry.

But thanks largely to the heroics of their 40 -year -old goalkeeper, England

held out for the draw that would take them to the World Cup finals.

Just.

Bobby Robson's England stumbled blindly onto Italy last night.

It has to be wondered if there's any more point turning up next summer than

there was in going to the European Championship last year.

There are so many donkeys in this side, Robson should open an animal sanctuary

and dispense carrot juice.

It is, perhaps, a pity that England, and not Poland, will be going to the World

Cup.

Neary English footballers return home today to be confronted with another set

headlines which plague their journeys abroad.

It's just abysmal. It's not good enough.

We're very sad about it.

It's a vast problem to us.

I just wish they wouldn't do it, because they're antagonising everybody and

we've fed up with them.

It is hard to find words. Some people call them animals.

I would say that I think that's almost too kind to them. I know of no animals

that would behave in this manner.

The press called it the English disease.

And its lowest point came in 1985 at the Heysel Stadium disaster.

moments before the European Cup final between Juventus and Liverpool.

Rioting, led by English fans, caused 39 people to lose their lives.

Immediately, English clubs were banned from playing in Europe.

But that didn't put an end to the violence.

The so -called supporters

switched their focus to international fixtures.

And the English fans were at it again, showering them with bombs.

For half an hour, the gang was running a battle, the police hopelessly

outnumbered, unable to prevent the violence.

Mrs. Thatcher's decision to call her football summit a downing state was a

of her determination to make action against the Holy Grail.

Morning.

Is that looking all right?

Is it true the national team might be told not to play abroad anymore?

I'm not saying that. I'm saying that one of the areas where discussion will take

place, and obviously with the football authorities, is the participation of

national teams in international cooperations.

Do you want to add to that?

No, that's the position.

After rioting at England's qualifying matches, the government threatened the

ultimate sanction to stop Robson's team from going to the World Cup.

Any time you get trouble with fans overseas, English fans overseas, then we

it's a blot on the fair name of our country.

Robertson said to suggest withdrawal from Italy suggested a complete

to understand the status of football as the national game and all that it means

to millions of people.

Would you please welcome our press conference guest?

England's football manager, Bobby Robson.

You could strengthen your squad. Yes.

From any player in the world. From any player in the world.

Well, the greatest player in the world still is Maradona.

If he's fit and his attitude is right, he is by far the most technical player

and accomplished player that we've seen.

They knew about Diego Maradona in Argentina when he was 11.

He was playing in the first division by the time he was 15, and for Argentina a

year later.

It's estimated that his 11 -stone frame was pound for pound worth six times the

going rate for Goal. World's number one three months ago. Now, this is how

Maradona capped his return to Naples last weekend.

Now, Emily, I reckon he's getting closer to Pele all the time.

While other Italian teams train in the mornings, Naples train in the

because Diego likes a line.

Three times he broke the world record transfer fee.

And when Maradona delivered Naples their first ever championship, at a symmetry,

Neapolitans put up a fight to the dead.

You don't know what you've missed.

greatest player receives the world's most important football prize.

So where to find the next Messiah?

to meet our first real guest of the evening, a man who attracts labels such

controversial, unpredictable, and fatty, and they're just a polite one.

He's also, without doubt, today's most exciting English soccer star. Please

welcome Paul Gazza -Gastroyn.

I think it's about 35

years since I've seen a kid as good as what this lad is, and I just kind of

believe the skills of him. He's got everything, everything.

He's got a couple of faults, man.

He looks like the kind of footballer who plays for the local Sunday pub team,

until you see him play, that is. The reason that the Porters really love

is he's one of them.

The good, the bad and the ugly of Paul Gascoigne. So brilliant one moment, so

frustrating the next.

His talent has never been in doubt, only his temperament is under question.

We'll pick up the newspapers without seeing something on the back pages.

Either you speaking about Bobby Robson or him going on about you. You know, and

every time we're going to play, we need two balls, one for him and one for the

team. And at one time, I thought he was actually going to play in the front row

with us down, you know, because he played all over the pitch except the

and I told him to play in. But he did say recently that he can't trust you

because that's one of the reasons why he hasn't put you in the A team yet. At

times, I try to tell him that when he's back in defence, you have to just knock

the ball out to safety.

And he says, yes, yes, yes.

As soon as he gets the ball in that area, there he is trying to dribble

because he doesn't know just...

how to kick the ball.

He doesn't feel that's playing football.

Bobby Walton said that you should keep a low profile.

So I've got to ask you why you came on the chat show, to be honest with you.

Well, he's... No, we're pleased to have you here, but it doesn't seem to keep

him with what he's asking you to do, does it?

Well, you know... He's quite a complicated character, actually.

Very sensitive, first and foremost.

Like most people, he doesn't enjoy having to take any criticism.

And I think he needs people that love him, people that can put their arm

around him and give him lots of encouragement.

And if they do that, he'll respond to that.

Gascoigne's suspect temperament remains his own biggest liability.

I get myself too wound up with teams, but I think that's better than not

yourself wound up for games.

Do you think sometimes you will actually be playing in the World Cup?

Hopefully.

Good luck with being selected for the English squad. I hope it happens for

OK? See you again soon. All

across

the winter, Robson

obsessed over how to turn his team of so -called donkeys into winners.

You need discipline, fitness, good temperament, good attitude,

competitiveness, courage.

You need all those qualities, apart from the technical side.

Scores of players were tried out.

But only 22 could go to the World Cup.

We do create.

good players in England, we've done for donkey's years, we still can do with the

high individual creative player who can win a game by doing something special,

who can merge with the team play and play within the overall strategic policy

playing the game that I'd like to play.

For Robson, it wasn't just about skill, but about having the right character.

The question was, where did that leaf gather?

Being a professional footballer is every boy's dream.

The job that lets you stay a boy forever.

To be a hero too.

A way out of drudgery. Out of nine till five.

Of working in a sausage factory like Chris Waddle had before turning pro.

And getting selected for the National Squad.

That's the pinnacle.

More than just a dream. It means travel.

Fame. Go.

It means that you...

above all the millions that play the game each week, are the best.

That you have the chance to fight for the ultimate prize and bring it home to

your country.

An honour not to be mourned like that.

26 players returned to team headquarters this morning. Just 22 will go to Italy.

In April 1990, the press gathered at England's training base to discover who

been given the privilege of representing the country.

On the squad list were all the old warriors.

Chilton, Butcher, Robson, Lineker, and then down there at number 19,

Mr. Puck himself.

In spite of all the doubts about character and temperament, Robson had

place for the extraordinary talent he'd always craved.

Gather.

Thrust into the eye of the media, the stage light shining in his eyes, how did

the favourite son react?

Fortunate, perhaps, that the boss had other things on his mind.

England fly to Sardinia tomorrow. Their first match is just two and a half weeks

away.

There is absolutely no truth whatsoever in

all the speculation.

Rubbish that we've seen in one or two publications today.

In fact, the FA had made it clear that Robson's contract would not be renewed

after the World Cup.

Sensibly, Robson had found himself another employer.

But that's not how the press saw it.

Some newspapers link news of Mr. Robson's resignation with allegations

private life.

A paper wrote a scurrilous article, not correct in any manner or means, and from

that you have gained the power of the press on what has befriended me today.

When we are going abroad to play for the World Cup, Maraghood, me in

charge, never ever think about anything else but an attempt to try and win the

World Cup for our country with a decent bunch of players.

And you have ruined that. Some of you have ruined that.

And you have affected the preparation for the sake of a flimsy story.

They flipped in quietly, steering clear of a press corps anxious to quiz manager

Bobby Robson about his resignation and the players about their morale.

The players were driven through the press in a coach, and just in case any

journalist was able to shout a question for them, a jet next door with its

engines running guaranteed it would never be heard.

They'd originally planned to make a more dignified exit. That was before the

stories that have since broken about Bobby Robson and also about midfielder

Gascoigne, who's the subject of a police investigation into his part in an

incident outside a Newcastle pub.

Later. When asked if he intended to sue the papers over the story about the

barber, Gazza replied,

No, I worked the cunt, didn't I?

Bye. Bye.

The British government wants England based on Sardinia for the opening

Fans could be more easily monitored on an island with limited ports of entry

restrictive movement.

The Italians had 7 ,000 police and carabinieri on Sardinia, more than there

English fans.

One third of the country's paramilitary force was on standby.

And if that wasn't enough... And then there's Gis.

This recruitment video is pure hard sell, but they've dealt in the past with

Red Brigade. They're the equivalent of the SAS.

Their operations are secret, but they are here and ready for the ultimate

terrorist threat.

How many times

have you been searched?

Could you blame the Sardinians for being so paranoid?

When Britain was sending a government minister around, telling them how

his fellow citizens are.

When I was last here, I was concerned that we should be ideally placed in

Sardinia, in Cagliari, where problems could be contained.

That has proven to be successful.

I'm very pleased that around each and every ground there is a no -go area.

The Minister for Sport, Mr Colin Moynihan.

Moynihan, the son of a lord, Didn't exactly fit the traditional football

supporting demographic. The organisation of the parliamentary regatta may

finally have convinced Mrs Thatcher he was the man to be sports minister.

He's very low ranking in terms of authority within government.

Sports minister is officially among the most junior jobs in government.

He hasn't got any money of his own, the sports council has that.

And he has no control at all over his ministry, really, because he doesn't run

football or cricket.

And we wouldn't want him to.

He's asking a lot of questions of sport.

I think they're reasonable questions that he's asking.

It seems as though he's just an opportunist that's seeking profit and

almost take any route.

My guess is he's going to catch the select desire and go very much further

politics.

We are on trial throughout the World Cup. We're on trial from the moment our

fans start travelling to Italy to the moment the last one gets back to this

country.

Meanwhile, the English team had been treated to a week's holiday with their

wives and girlfriends before serious training began and the women were sent

home.

You seem to be going into this in a very relaxed form.

Is that to do with the fact that you can see an end to it? I mean, people back

home, some people are saying, well, I bet Bobby can't wait, in view of all

that's happened to you, I bet Bobby can't wait to get out of this.

If I did that, I would have done it two years ago. I mean, I'm very excited

about it. I'm looking forward to it very much.

I've got nothing in my head except...

The next six weeks, nothing will deflect me from

obviously giving my best and preparing the team to try to bring the World Cup

back home to England. Nothing. I mean, this is the pinnacle. This is the

This is what we've worked for. There are no higher levels to play, no higher

levels to manage.

It's what I gave up a pleasant way of life for, to come and try to win the

Cup for England.

England had, of course, won the World Cup in 1966.

Now, one of the winning team was managing England's first group

Ireland.

I applied for the England job a fair few years ago now, because I was asked to,

and I never even got a reply to my letter.

And from that day, I've never really had any ambitions to manage England.

What do you want that job for?

The pressure was all on Robson, because it was Ireland who had beaten England

the last time they played in the European Championship in 1988.

A defeat that had fueled the press hate campaign against him.

It's vital for us, I think, to win. It is vital that we win.

I would think

he won't play good.

I don't think he's an important player.

Gazza's got great ability, but Gazza's time is to come.

There's a lot more to football than playing on the ball.

You know you can't ask questions like that. You can,

but you won't get an answer. You'll see what the team will be towards the

weekend.

Probably about the same time Jackie Charlton gets it.

The teams walked out on pitch, and in spite of Charlton's predictions, there

gather.

The Irish were known for their physical style of play, the kind of football that

tests temperaments as much as talent.

And Gaza, in the middle of it all.

It was hassle, hassle, forcing errors, shutting down space.

Not football, just mayhem.

Then, by fluke, The ball fell to Chris Waddle, who crossed it with sweet left

foot into the Irish penalty area.

Straight into Lineker's sprinting path.

Golden boots had struck.

He's 32nd for England in 52 games.

But Charlton's Island weren't going to give it up that easy. And they shoveled

right back in.

The game got worse.

England sinking to their opponent's level.

Training ground drills abandoned in no man's land.

The Irish shooting it at random into the box.

Not creating chances, just confusion.

The ball ricocheting about like it was pinball, not football.

And then came the rain.

The turf was wet. The ball was wet.

The play was even worse.

In the 69th minute, Robson, desperate to hold on to the win, made a tactical

change, switching an attacker for some midfield ballast.

On the edge of the box, when only his third touch of the ball, the substitute,

McMahon, lost control.

There was one all.

A tactical disaster.

Gaza tried to rest and hit your ground.

But there was no way back.

And that was the sum total of England's riposte.

The English were silent.

Misery in the rain.

It looked like England would be coming home in no time.

In anguish and in bitterness.

to the sound of a howling deluge of recrimination and fury.

That game the other night was abysmal.

If I only counted yourself twice in the opposition's box, we never really had a

chance.

Bobby Robson is still talking to newspaper reporters to fight the

continues against him.

After

the

way England played against Ireland, you had to question if they'd get to the

mainland at all.

At Italia 90, there'd been 21 goals from the first eight games.

We'd had Italy, Brazil, West Germany, Romania, the Czechs and Cameroon.

All looking in the different ways, like rampant class acts.

That was football.

Whereas England versus Ireland had been nothing more than an oafish melee.

Just like there's not one kind of football fan, there's also not one kind

journalist.

First,

you've got the sports press.

These are the poor sods who travel the world filing reports about graceful

goalies and stunning strikers.

Then you've got the editors back in the office.

The yacht.

All they care about is the headlines.

Which, if you don't read beyond, you'd assume a broken toenail was the same as

public execution.

And finally, you've got the Rosses.

The newshounds.

More interested in what goes on in the bedroom than the boot room.

Another chapter in Bobby Robson's stormy relationship with the tabloid press.

Angry at newspaper allegations of sexual impropriety at their hotel, the England

players walked off the training field without giving their customary pre

press interviews.

I had to take this situation with the players late last night because we got

some disturbing phone calls that this was about to happen.

Couldn't believe it.

The Mirror alleged that three players had had late -night disco and after

nookie with an Italian 90s stewardess.

This is the girl at the centre of the allegations, Isabella Chiravola, a 27

-year -old singer who's been working as a hostess during the World Cup.

She had a lot of problems with journalists who were very ill -mannered

her and who apparently seemed to have invented some story that was absolutely

untrue and no foundation.

In other words, total make -believe.

It's hurt them, you know, and they just can't understand why certain papers

would want to do that to the English team at this particular time. You know,

they're just trying to sabotage us and torpedo us.

The National Grid firing up every floodlight on Earth.

couldn't have cast light into the black heart of matters now.

Such was the atmosphere in the England camp.

You come out with the England players and all you try and do is relax and

your World Cup, which you can't do.

I mean, they try and split up families and everything.

Like the rumour has been the other day about a young girl.

I mean, I've seen the lads have been... It's a disgrace.

There's people that don't want us to win the World Cup and the people that throw

them the public.

get the wrong image of it.

And unfortunately for the players who are trying to win the World Cup for the

people back home, I can't.

These guys have got so poor people with a pen and paper in their hands that are

just mulling the lads.

If Robson's reign was not to end in abject failure, then he badly needed a

result.

Easy, right?

Not on this form.

Not when the next game was against the current European champions, Holland.

At the centre of the Dutch team was World Footballer of the Year, Ruth

Somehow, England had to temper his creative force.

When you've got him flitting about all over the place, great error of the ball,

and he's a good runner, it's difficult to handle them and him.

And that of the striker, Marco van Basten.

That was right hard.

And

so

in fear of the Flying Dutchman, Bobby Robson planned a revolution.

We are provoked.

We're annoyed about certain situations around us. And the only way you can

silence people is through performance, not through backchat.

through performance, and I've outlined that to the players. Get the situation

right on the field, and everything else around you literally disappears.

There's a black beetle here who knows nothing of what's going on here and

less.

What is this, a bloody lawnmower convention or what?

If you had anything else planned for 7 .30 tonight, my professional advice is

drop it, because I think we're going to have a fabulous match here between

England and Holland. Forget what happened against the Irish. Tonight,

are out to prove to the world that they really can play.

In every one of his 89 games in charge of England, Robson had stuck to the

traditional English way of playing football.

known as 442.

But today, against the Dutch, there's a rumour he will abandon it in favour of

the continental sweeper system.

We don't know for certain what the line -up is, but it does look very strongly

as though it's going to be a sweeper. Do you approve?

Well, I'm surprised a little bit, because I would have thought we'd have

for it.

So does that necessarily...

mean we're playing more defensively. I mean, a sweeper can come forward and

contribute to the attack as well. Well, he can come forward, but where's he

going to go, Nick? The only thing is that presumably if Wright is back there

sort of sweeping up, we should have more possession, hopefully, from the back,

and therefore there'll be more chance for him to be supplied. It's a great

in theory, isn't it? Yeah, it is a wonderful game.

Appearing in the team, a fifth defender, Mark Wright.

to collect any balls missed by the rest of the back line.

And the change had an immediate impact.

The system was working but perhaps in a different way than planned.

The extra man at the back releasing the creative talent of Gascoigne, Waddle and

John Barnes.

And it was Holland who were on the defensive.

England looked sharp.

The back.

The middle.

The front.

Everything linked and flowed.

It was a new -looking England, and it looked just great.

Pullet was a shadow, soft and rusty.

There was little doubt who was the new name now.

Gascoigne looked hard and bright.

England were playing like Brazil.

It's a great run this by Paul Gascoigne, absolutely brilliant.

The Dutch came out strongly in the second half and quickly got two corners.

For the first time, they looked in control.

But only for five minutes.

And

there's

Parker again. And Lineker's waiting. Lineker!

Handball, just allowed.

Everything seemed to be going England's way, until Brian Robson, the captain,

came off limping.

But Gascoigne inspired England to push on.

It may have only been a draw, but after months of pressure, it felt like

victory.

That's England.

I mean, all right that the press have a different job to mine, but they were

hasty about that one match, weren't they, five days ago? You never see us

like that. You've never seen England over eight years into me play like that.

But on that occasion, we had to, and we got a valuable point.

Horses for courses.

Did what we had to do. Dug it out. Today's a different game. Like I said,

been saying it'll be a different match. Was it? It was a lovely game of

football. Looks like we might be in Italy for some while. Well, I hope so.

got my bags unpacked.

If only events on the pitch were all that mattered.

A few hours before the match, a thousand or so English fans had the bright idea

to march to the stadium en masse.

They found themselves greeted by a wall of police.

And rather than turning away quietly, between 10 and 30 he started throwing

glasses and stones.

Smart thinking, eh?

When other nations paraded to the football ground, it was a party.

But with the English, it was like a colonial land grab.

Started the trouble.

The police regrouped.

And up the stakes immediately.

Their determined aggressive response, using tear gas here for the first time,

affected the innocent as well as the guilty.

It didn't matter whether you were a troublemaker or not.

Many fled.

They complained they'd had nothing to do with the initial attack.

Today...

the British consulate issued a statement on behalf of the sports minister.

I am grateful to the police for their swift, tough and decisive action which

diffused the situation and prevented further incidents, avoiding serious

confrontation between English and Dutch supporters.

Joining me now live from Sardinia is the England manager, Bobby Robson. Bobby,

good morning to you.

Good morning, or buongiorno, as they say here. Yes, quite.

I know you and your team, Bobby, have done as much as you possibly can to

encourage the fans and avoid this hooligan problem, but again overnight

heard of more problems.

That must disturb you.

Well, I'm trying to avoid myself and take myself away from that particular

scene. I'm not here for that, Bob. We've brought people here who can...

you know, take that responsibility away from me, because I don't want to be

spending my time and my thoughts and my concentration worrying about the

Hooligans. Now, I'm here for the technical side. I'm here to get results

England team.

England went out against Egypt in their final group game, knowing that if they

can get their first win of the tournament, they would be able to escape

Sardinia.

Robson reverted back to the old English system. The sweeper right moved into a

four -man defence.

There was no sign of the free -spirited continental football of the Dutch game.

Gazza, shackled by the old system, looked ready to blow.

In the second half, England.

Won a free kick.

Gazza stepped up.

And drifted the ball onto the head of Marv Wright.

They had to keep hold of the wind now.

And what is football, if not 90 minutes of agony?

The doubts, the anxieties, the fears.

England 1, Egypt 0.

And who else to thank?

For the first time, football.

rather than scandal, grabbed the headline.

England finally had an invitation to the World Party.

When you're standing on the window ledge I'll talk you back to black from

the edge I will tell, I will tell you a tale Be a sinner

then you will be a gay When you're lost and you're deep in darkness Please don't

own me, my world won't be

Has anybody told you yet that you played pretty well yesterday?

No, yeah, I taught myself.

You'd fulfilled your dream.

You'd got to the World Cup.

And now you and England are in the last 16.

All well done, son.

It was a great night last night.

I heard you were drunk, Mum.

No.

You were like a racehorse at your physical peak.

It's important that you stay that way.

We've allowed them to sunbathe because we're here for four weeks and you just

can't keep them indoors all that time. And as long as they do things gradually,

you know, a bit of sun tan doesn't do them any harm.

The crucial thing now is not to overdo it.

Mum? Yeah? What do you think about me tan?

I'm catching up to John Barnes or what?

Come home.

Come home.

Come home.

But while the others lay by the pool...

Where were you, Mr. Park?

Full of energy.

Restless.

Playing tennis with tourists for hours in the midday sun.

Smiling, but reckless.

Because if you got injured now, your World Cup dreams are over.

Just like your captain.

The loss of Brian Robson, both as a player and a source of inspiration, is

enormous blow to England.

I had a training session yesterday morning and it wasn't any good.

In fact, it was worse, the leg was, so we knew then that it was time for me to

come home.

For eight years, he had been Robson's captain, the linchpin of the national

team.

And now, he was gone.

Let no one doubt the whole this tour out of the heart of the England squad.

We're all extremely sorry for him, sick for him.

But it's not terminal, is it? And we have to get up and play this very

match.

And I can assure you the players are very determined to see it through and do

well for him.

While the team mourn the loss of Brian Robson, the

fans were arriving on the mainland.

A drinks van in Bologna pushed them out to the suburbs.

And it was a party spirit.

At least until night fell.

A raucous party turned to violence when the bar was stormed by Italian police.

English youths were being arrested all around the resort.

By the end of the night, the police had ferried away 250 supporters to await

deportation.

In fact, it was 246, which might sound like a random figure, but it's almost

exactly the amount needed to fill an Airbus.

Well, I bitterly condemn the mindless selfishness

thugs. It's appalling. It's an ugly incident.

These people clearly were intent on causing trouble last night and the

has done a lot of damage to our reputation and to the future reputation

English football.

The knockout stage.

No more room to hide.

Lose now. Your career, your dreams are over.

Robson gambled on a system the team had only played once before, a super system.

It had worked against the Dutch, but that was before the captain got injured.

But England did look better this way.

The creative players began to find space.

Waddle unleashed.

At last, Chris Waddle, fast, tricky, making it look easy with that shambling,

shuffling run.

Lineker crossed into John Barnes, who'd finally found his feet.

But the goal was caught offside.

It might have been 2 -2 us.

It might have been two to them.

And Schifo shoots.

Oh, he's hit the inside of the post with a fabulous effort.

In this cauldron of hope, it was experience that told you to keep a cool

Yellow card, Gascoigne.

A yellow card.

It was energetic rather than malicious, but a yellow card nonetheless.

Another one would mean suspension.

And with the captain already gone,

the teams fought on and

on into the depth of extra time.

No one able to break the deadlock.

The ball fell to Gazza.

He jinked, he ran.

David Platt, who only two years earlier had been playing in the English Bulls

division, had scored his first goal for England.

One moment of magic and England were in the last day in the world.

And I can just imagine now what the social club's going to be like.

Anything to say for News at Ten, guys?

News at Ten?

News at Ten wants to hear from you. Come on.

Well,

everybody here is saying that you were all guilty, that you thumped the Italian

fans. Is that right?

Rubbish. The majority of the people was innocent.

So you're saying that you weren't even in this bar where it all started. You

were in a hotel and the police came in and picked you up. We were in a bar,

which is about a mile away from the hotel, down the seapoint, right down

from it.

We were just sat there having a meal.

At about three o 'clock we decided we'd walk back to our own camper.

That's when we were attacked by Italian police.

Picked up, thrown into a garage.

kept their freaky nails.

There was an Australian and Dutch man, because there wasn't an Italian, and

dropped off.

The lad from Germany, in the army, he'd been made to come to England, instead of

going straight to Germany.

It's the case of the press, and Moynihan have worried them so much that they

automatically speak English accidentally. The club, you arrest your

you're on a fucking plane to go home.

The Italian police.

and Moynihan wants to come and sit down with a football support and have a talk.

He wants to be out there, because if you had been out there on the street, you

would have got locked up. Well, you've presumably heard that England got

tonight. Yeah, magic.

Makes it all worthwhile, but... Can you go back?

I wouldn't want to go back there.

Never thought it would.

The England manager's news conferences are now playing for ever bigger

galleries.

And that's what I'm doing, Saint.

I'm putting my shirt on England.

Mark my words, it will be all right in the night.

With only four days to recover from their exhausting two hours against

the players badly needed some relaxation.

Gazza and Waddle even got a pass to go down to the beach.

And there they sat, drinking as the sun went down, not feeling the weight of the

nation on their shoulders.

Gazza delighted the locals with a wide array of card tricks.

The Italians not believing that there were four championes on the beach

their players would never have been so approachable.

Across the peninsula, planet football continued to turn.

The Irish, who had never before been in the World Cup, faced the Italians in

Rome, but had their hearts broken by the Italian marksman Scalacci.

And it was the host nation who would go on to face Maradona's Argentina in the

first semi -final.

In Milan, the Germans took on the Czechs with great style and efficiency.

But in the end, it was only a penalty that booked them their semi -final play

against whoever won out of England and Cameroon.

Fair foot in the jungle. That's the school of soccer, Cameroon style.

They say it gives the players the touch of the toes, ball -playing skills which

have thrilled World Cup fans.

How much do you know about Cameroon?

Not much.

Since the opening group match when they defeated Argentina, Cameroon, had

swiftly become the world's favourite team.

They're the surprise sensation of the tournament, and veteran striker Roger

Miller's celebratory dance has become famous across the world.

The striker brought out of retirement to stardom is a national hero.

His relatives say he's considered a genius.

Once 500 -1 outsiders, now centre of attention.

Contenders for the semi -final, new kit from eager sponsors.

And Cameroon have a secret weapon in the country's witch doctors. So we asked

Papa Bamenda to read Sunday's result in the bone.

The

last

aid.

England relaxed and confident.

The favourites. to take the semi -final spot.

And sure enough, it was England who drew first blood.

Stuart Pearce racing down the left flank.

On to the head of David Platt.

But there were still 65 minutes of football to go.

And Cameroon looked determined to take the game with a scruff of the neck.

And anyone else who got in their way.

At the halfway mark, the English held their slender advantage.

So it was time for the Africans to bring on Roger Miller.

And Cameroon look the stronger team.

Their skill and physicality always threatening.

Pushing even back.

Impatient, Gazza got physical too.

Down goes Roger Miller, the talisman.

It's a penalty to Cameroon.

How Cameroon could sense the destiny.

A genius ship from Mila to Akeke.

The witch doctor's prophecy threatening to come true.

England looked second best and a long way from home.

Cameroon were just different class.

England falling apart.

But eventually, Cameroon's rough methods let them down.

Gaza took the kick.

The ball falls into Lineker's path.

And, incredibly, it was England's first penalty

since February 1986.

And Cameroon had all the ball, all the run.

Gather looked knackered.

And then, as if driven by the ball.

The path of blind.

The defence, brutal.

No penalties for four years, and now two in the same match.

3 -2 to England.

Cameroon had twice as many shots, but it was England who stumbled through.

With character, heart and luck as much as skill, England had now gone further

the World Cup than they'd ever been before on foreign soil.

I've had 17 heart attacks, I feel 92, but I'm absolutely elated. I'm so

for everybody. I wish I was home, because they tell me everybody's dancing

the street waters tonight.

England through to the semi -finals, and suddenly they're at the centre of world

attention to every word from England's stars.

England have never got so far in a World Cup on foreign soil, but in West

Germany they're up against a side Bobby Robson described as the best in the

tournament.

The Germans, the last two.

There'd been finalists.

Franz Beckenbauer.

And so the circus travelled on.

But this semi -final had an extra dash of spice.

Because it would be played in Turin.

Heysel Town.

32 fans of the city's team, Juventus, had died at Heysel in 1985.

And the word on the street was that England fans, travelling to Turin, would

be safe.

I hope there'll be no vendettas, says Turin's mares, Maria Magnani Noia. But

with such a potentially explosive mix of English, German and local supporters,

she says she can't guarantee... The English mishaps were there.

The Germans allegedly allocated 20 times more tickets than the English.

500 tickets on sale today.

Only 500 tickets? 500 tickets.

It's a disgrace.

Disgrace. Terrible. A hell of a day.

And when Italy played Argentina in the other semi -final and lost, it got much

worse.

A few hours after the game in Turin, it was the time for revenge.

Their first time...

Their second target, the English campsite.

One night in Turin, three weeks in Sardinia.

At the England camp, Robson

prepared his team to face the West Germans.

A team who had scored 13 goals to England's five.

and hadn't needed to play any extra time.

We've come through, you know, trials and tribulations and really sort of bouts

of happiness and elation, so we know that if we can win tonight, but Germany

too, you're in the final, and with a great chance of beating Argentina.

Great chance of beating Argentina.

This is the big one.

Germany's the big one.

Across England, people raced home to catch the biggest match of a generation.

Football.

What do you think?

Football.

The streets were deserted.

30 million people crammed around the television sets.

Men, women, children, politicians,

and gathered dad.

The semi -final of the World Cup.

The biggest game of your life.

You could pray for love, cross your fingers and toes.

But you'd better be ready.

Because what counted now was character.

Skill, playing like a team and for the team.

90 minutes to silence the critics forever.

England won the first corner.

And Gaza fired in a rocket of a volley.

England got a second corner. A third.

England's play was soft, light and oh so elegant.

England were playing like the Germans.

And the Germans didn't like it.

The ball fell again together.

The Germans just couldn't find a way

into the game.

Whereas even the English defenders...

were displaying the touch of the toes The

ball

fell

to Waddle

England have had their critics. They've played superb.

They are the better side. We look at classy, stylish international side and

Germans must be wondering how they're going to stop the kind of momentum that

picked up already.

After the break, the German attacks became more frenzied.

Matthäus coming to the boil.

And England on the back foot, making mistakes.

It was hideously unlucky.

No deflection would have probably meant no goal.

And I drew past.

Urging run forward.

It was all an awful one.

But as the clock ticked down, Ings de Linneke.

Golden boots had struck again.

and barged their way around Italy for a month.

They'd been spat at and shot at. They'd been herded over here and marched over

there and still they were singing.

Because this was their time and brought to life against all odds by the England

football team.

In two extra time now, England's third in nine days, the English back line

creaked and buckled and he had the ball but raised it.

His second yellow in the tournament.

Whatever happened now, Gazza wouldn't be in the final.

It seemed like the harshest injustice.

Inside, pride kicked in.

And now it was all England, England, England.

By chance, the ball flew to Waddle.

One inch of woodwork.

One inch from the dream.

England pushed on.

After two hours of the most incredible football, no one had lost.

But someone has to win.

So the greatest of team games is reduced to a lottery.

Five kicks each.

One on one.

Five kicks to score or save.

And if it was still a stalemate, then someone had to take a sixth.

Read with two.

Two more kick or score.

It's a team game, but at the end of weeks of passing, running, playing, the

dreams, the hopes fall cruelly.

on just one pair of shoulders.

On the 8th of July, Germany played Argentina in the World Cup final.

West Germany, playing for the last time as a divided nation, were crowned world

champions for a third time.

You could say that the best side in the tournament won it.

But England's was the best story.

Because who would have said on the 25th of May, when the World Cup wallies were

being jeered on their way, that 30 million people in England would watch

play their hearts out in Turin all of 40 days later.

Football. is Pele's beautiful game.

And with the Germans, England had played it beautifully. With strength and

speed, worth, courage and skill. With honesty and with honour.

So the Robson era ends, with England undoubtedly restored to the elite of

football.

seconds away from their broadcasting revolution.

We'll be right back.

Ciao Fabio, and welcome to England.