By Dave Kiefer/Stanford athletics
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO, American soccer changed forever. And it happened at Stanford.
To understand how the 1994 World Cup altered soccer in America, consider what soccer was like in America.
Most young American soccer players had never seen a professional match — on TV or in person. The only soccer programming came on Spanish-language channels, and often only with the help of rabbit-ear antennas draped with tin foil for better reception.
There was no true outdoor professional league in 1994. The mercenaries who tried to make a living at the game played indoors, on turf-covered ice rinks. The Continental Indoor Soccer League was more stable than the top outdoor circuit, the American Professional Soccer League, which hardly lived up to the second word in its title.
The APSL averaged “crowds” of barely more than 2,000 and hardly was the launching pad the American game required to increase its popularity and stature. American players were not really accepted in Europe, and the best players had barely any club options at all. Instead, the U.S. national team assembled more than a year before the World Cup and played a long schedule of international friendlies to make up for a lack of domestic club competition.
Most of the American media begrudgingly accepted soccer, only because they understood that the World Cup was a big deal. Otherwise, the sport largely was belittled, if acknowledged at all.
But the 1994 World Cup, which included six matches at Stanford, changed all that. Look at soccer in this country today: Massive crowds at club and national team matches, boisterous rhythmic supporters’ groups, recognition of international clubs and stars.
All that began in 1994. And nowhere was the juxtaposition of soccer tradition and emerging passion greater than when mighty Brazil played the United States at Stanford Stadium on the Fourth of July.
Brazil won the Round of 16 match, the U.S. team’s first venture beyond the first round in the modern era of the tournament. But the success of the World Cup, in attendance and interest, spawned Major League Soccer and changed the sport in America from backwater to mainstream.
WHEN THE U.S. was awarded the World Cup by FIFA, the world governing body of soccer, in 1988, the U.S. hadn’t qualified for a World Cup since 1950. The concern internationally was whether the tournament would be a source of embarrassment for the U.S. on the field and in the stands.
Stanford earned the trust of FIFA because of its success in hosting matches during the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. Nine were played at Stanford, with crowds of 83,642 for an Italy-Brazil semifinal, 78,000 for the U.S. against Costa Rica in the first round, and 75,000 for West Germany against Brazil.
In the years that followed, Stanford became a regular stop for the U.S. national team, which played five exhibitions at Stanford Stadium from 1990-93. Opponents were the USSR and Russia, Argentina, China, and Germany. The 1998 World Cup cycle included two qualifying matches at Stanford, against Costa Rica and Canada.
The South Bay had a rich soccer history, ignited by original San Jose Earthquakes in 1974. The club was well-supported throughout its 10-year history, until the collapse of the old North American Soccer League. That heritage and a massive 90,000-capacity, made Stanford Stadium an ideal choice as one of the 1994 Cup’s nine venues.
It got even better: the South Bay became the home base for Brazil, the three-time world champions and the masters of “the beautiful game.”
Brazilian fans descended upon Los Gatos, where the team made its headquarters at the now-closed Villa Felice lodge, and its training ground at Santa Clara University’s Buck Shaw Stadium. Practice was accompanied by chanting and singing fans. At night, they turned Town Plaza Park in Los Gatos into a Sambadrome.
The Brazilians taught Americans how to be soccer fans and their influence remains in evidence today with the singing, chanting, and drum-beating supporter groups that now proliferate the American soccer scene.
In contrast was Russia, Brazil’s dour first-match opponent. Unlike a year earlier when the Russians trained in the South Bay without security and with levity in advance of their 1993 friendly against the U.S. at Stanford, this group hid behind lock and key.
Russia was based at a businessman’s retreat in the hills above Santa Cruz and bused to Cabrillo College in Aptos, where players loaded and unloaded behind closed doors. All but one training session was off-limits, in contrast to the openness expressed by the Brazilians just over the hill. Safe to say there were no Russian parties by the Boardwalk.
AS THE CUP drew closer, Stanford braced for the onslaught of media and fans. At the time, hooliganism was a major concern, and there were sighs of relief when England, a nation notorious for such behavior, did not qualify. About 2,500 media representatives descended upon Stanford, as well as a security force of 700, including officers, private security and trained volunteers.
Stanford was prepared. The Department of Defense sold security systems to the University that included a new perimeter fence and a video surveillance network.
The University spent $700,000 to replace the wood benches at Stanford Stadium with gold-colored aluminum. Total expenses in hosting the event, with some of the tab picked up by FIFA, was $2.5 million, including $2.2 million in capital improvements. Revenue totaled $1.8 million, including $500,000 in the rent of the stadium and $800,000 in parking.
The area that is now the Palo Alto Medical Foundation, across from Stanford along El Camino Real, was largely a series of empty lots turned into a World Cup souvenir center.
A 30,000-square foot media operations center was built on the current hammer throwing field next to Angell Field, with a pedestrian bridge built to span Nelson Road and allow credentialed media direct access into the stadium.
The international contingents certainly did things differently. While American reporters are trained to be unbiased, many of the foreign journalists clearly were not, wearing their team’s jerseys, snapping pictures with and getting autographs from their favorite players, and even cheering answers during press conferences and goals during games.
Some of the questions were a bit bizarre. One often repeated in the buildup to the Brazil-Russia opener referred to Russian coach Pavel Sadyrin supposedly saying that the Brazilian team was a “myth.”
“How could you say such a thing?” Sadyrin was asked pointedly.
Something must have gotten lost in the translation. The subject didn’t make sense in any language, and Sadyrin continually denied making the remark. That didn’t stop the Brazilian press.
Despite the years of planning and preparation, it was inevitable that something would go wrong, and it did when on the day of the first match, a garbage truck knocked down the Nelson Road press bridge and knocked out power to the 22 television sets inside the press center.
Because of a lack of space in the stadium press box, many reporters depended on the TVs to cover the games. The Internet still was in its infancy and information was not readily available except off traditional media such as television, radio, and newspapers.
Fortunately, a volunteer named Silvestre Espinoza brought his battery-operated portable TV to the media center and dozens of reporters crowded around it to catch a glimpse of the tiny screen.
Not only did Brazil show American fans how to watch a game, the Brazilians showed how to play it – with flair and creativity. Brazil was led by South American Player of the Year Bebeto, a skinny speedster who pulled his shorts just a bit too high, and Romario, the heartthrob forward. On the bench was 17-year-old Ronaldo, the first of the greats sharing that name.
BRAZIL ROLLED OVER Russia, 2-0, and Cameroon, 3-0, on the way to winning its group. But two other Stanford first-round matches had a more lasting impact.
Colombia was the tournament’s biggest disappointment. The team of Carlos Valderrama and Adolfo Valencia was among the favorites, but lost to Romania 3-1 in its first match and 2-1 to the U.S. in its next, at the Rose Bowl. The Americans’ first score was an own goal off the foot of Colombia defender Andres Escobar, who lunged to intercept a cross, only to deflect it into his own net.
As revealed in the ESPN 30 For 30 documentary “The Two Escobars,” the Colombians were under intense pressure from the drug cartels back home. Players, coaches and even their families received death threats. By the time Colombia beat Switzerland before 83,401 on a scorching June 26 at Stanford, there was nothing to gain by its 2-0 victory, except for a somber and brief respite.
It was the final match in Escobar’s life. Six days later, upon his return to Medellin, Colombia, Escobar was gunned down by a bodyguard working for members of a drug cartel.
On June 28, Russia and Cameroon played in a meaningless match to end the tournament for both teams. For the first time at Stanford, tickets were even being given away or sold cut-rate by scalpers because of a lack of interest. But the crowd of 74,914 – the lowest attendance in the six Cup games at Stanford — witnessed history.
Oleg Salenko, a 24-year-old striker from Leningrad, set a World Cup record by scoring five goals in Russia’s 6-1 victory. His six goals overall earned him the Golden Boot for the most goals in the tournament. Salenko never played again for Russia in an injury-riddled career.
As the match concluded, an announcement was made to the crowd. The second-round matches were set and the U.S. would play Brazil at Stanford on Independence Day. The crowd roared its approval.
“The atmosphere going into that game was incomparable,” said U.S. Soccer president and World Cup organizer Alan Rothenberg to Seth Vertelney of SBnation.com.
“I’ve never seen American soccer fans before — almost any kind of fans — get into it the way they did,” Rothenberg said. “The streets were just mobbed with everybody with painted red, white and blue faces, singing. And the Brazilians, as colorful as they are, were singing. I remember being driven to the game and I made the driver stop about a mile out. I said, ‘I’ve got to be a part of this. I want to march with them all, it’s just too exciting.'”
Said U.S. midfielder John Harkes to Vertelney: “The atmosphere was tremendous. Those are the moments you live for whether you’re on the field playing or you’re in the stadium experiencing that. It was absolutely fantastic and that’s the No. 1 thing that I remember.”
THE U.S. WAS undermanned in any setting against Brazil, but especially because one of its core players, Harkes, was suspended for the match because of a red card he received against Romania in the final group contest.
The Americans also suffered a blow when Tab Ramos, the team’s most creative player, was elbowed viciously in the head by Brazil’s Leonardo late in the first half, leaving Ramos with a fractured skull. The U.S. had little chance with its thin bench.
Still, the U.S. fought off the Brazilians until Bebeto slipped in a shot between the legs of sliding defender Alexi Lalas in the 72nd minute, the only goal in Brazil’s 1-0 victory.
After the match, American fans were disappointed, but not defeated. The tournament was a victory. The U.S. showed it could support soccer and a crowd that numbered 84,147 proved it.
The average attendance for the six matches at Stanford, including Sweden’s quarterfinal penalty-kick victory over Romania, was 81,736. The overall average attendance of nearly 69,000, was the highest in World Cup history.
Even more important was the respect the U.S. gained as a soccer nation. Not only did America prove to the world that it could appreciate and support the game at its highest levels, but the quality of play by the U.S. was proof of inclusion into the realm of soccer elite.
The match at Stanford, on July 4, proved that.
As thousands of American fans left Stanford Stadium with flags draped around their shoulders and stars and stripes painted on their faces, Brazilian fans did something unique – they congratulated the defeated fans for America’s performance, for the World Cup, for everything.
Rick LaPlante, the Stanford venue press officer, recalled a scene that played out earlier in the Cup, as the United States earned the seminal victory over Colombia.
“About 30 reporters and some of my volunteers gathered around a TV in the Stanford media center to watch,” he recalled. “At another TV about 20 feet away, a group of about the same size, mostly Brazilian reporters, watched the Portuguese feed. When the U.S. won, the Brazilians, pretty much to a man, walked over and congratulated us.
“‘Welcome, Rick, to the world of football,’ one of them told me.”
Thanks to a Fourth of July at Stanford Stadium 25 years ago, the United States entered that world.
Welcome, indeed.
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