When the 1984 European Championship came around in France, my home country, I'd been playing in Italy with Juventus for two years. I was nearly 29 years old, I'd matured a lot, and I was captain of the French national team. With all of my experience, my mission was to protect the rest of the team and take them to the summit of European football.
I was convinced we had the qualities to prevail. I wasn't a maths teacher, slapping them on the wrist with a ruler, but I had to make them understand that they were good players and should believe in themselves. Alain Giresse, Patrick Battiston, Jean Tigana, Maxime Bossis - they were all great players, even if they'd shown their qualities only in French football until then.
That summer, I was determined to take our band of friends to the top.
Growing up, I'd admired the wonderful Brazil team of 1970. Rivelino, Tostao - and Pele, of course. As a teenager, I liked to sign my name 'Pele-atini'. I idolised Johan Cruyff, though I couldn't copy him. I didn't have the speed Cruyff had; I was more of a midfielder and an organiser.
I met him in an exhibition match at the Camp Nou in 1980. I was playing in midfield alongside him and Hansi Muller, with Giorgio Chinaglia up front, Karl-Heinz Rummenigge on the right and Oleh Blokhin on the left. I had to step back a bit from where I usually played, because someone had to defend!
I was still playing for Saint-Etienne at that point. When I arrived in the dressing room, I saw my hero and said, "Johan, I'm glad to meet you." He didn't pay much attention to me! We met each other many times after that, playing in golf tournaments together and getting along well.
This story is from the June 2024 edition of FourFourTwo UK.
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This story is from the June 2024 edition of FourFourTwo UK.
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