Memories of USA 94

This isn’t the first tournament in North America in living memory. Over thirty years ago the world
watched as the United States hosted the World Cup for the first time, complete with searing
heat, mental kits and a few infamous penalties. Here are some of the moments we’ll never
forget.

Diana Ross Missing a Pen
The staging of the tournament in the USA received heavy criticism in the build up. Some
supporters felt as though commercialism was ruining the beautiful game. Football barely
registered in American sports culture. They didn’t even call it football. The organisers hoped to
put this right by giving Diana Ross the chance to blast in a penalty during the opening
ceremony. You can probably guess how it went.

England’s Absence
If you thought watching England during the ‘Golden Generation’ era was disappointing, spare a
thought for those who’d grown up a few years before. Having finished behind Norway and The
Netherlands in the qualifying group, Graham Taylor’s England team didn’t even take part in USA
94, after reaching the semis in Italia 90. The real injustice is that Carlton Palmer never got to
perform on the world stage. What could’ve been.

The Baggio Miss
World Cup final. Italy vs Brazil. Clash of the titans. A gruelling 0-0 draw in temperatures edging
100F goes to penalties. Roberto Baggio, not to be upstaged by Diana Ross, steps up to the
spot. Italy’s hero. Player of the tournament. A nation’s hope. A strange ponytail. He places the
ball on the spot. Long run up. The world watches. Row Z.

The Shirts
USA 94 was the first truly global showcase of mental kit design. If the shirts at Italia 90 four
years previous had been about sharp European minimalism, USA 94 blew the doors off with
denim shirts (USA), big wobbly stripes (USA again) and more prints than SnappySnaps.
Nigeria’s away effort especially was a quintessential mid-90s bold graphic madman.

Owairan’s Wonder Goal
This one’s for all those times you’ve screamed “JUST RUN AT THEM!”
Saudi Arabia’s Saeed Al Owairan picks up the ball deep in his own half and sprints into space
between the Belgian players in the middle of the pitch. A tackle comes in but he’s already gone.
He takes a heavy touch, more challenges come in, but sheer momentum makes it impossible for
the opposition to track him. He’s caught them off guard. And then he just keeps going. And
keeps going. Once the ball bobbles into the Belgian’s box you can already sense its destiny is in
the back of the net, but somehow it still feels like magic when Owairan smacks it past the
keeper, top bins, falling to the floor as he does, desperate Belgians throwing in limbs from all
available angles until the very last second