Honourable Mentions: Hilarious History

Who invented the penalty kick?

Steve and Neil Webb Season 1 Episode 34

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Have you ever wondered who invented the football penalty kick? Meet William McCrum, the forgotten Irish goalkeeper from County Armagh who revolutionized soccer history in 1890 by proposing what critics furiously called the "death penalty" rule to stop dirty play.  
​In this episode, we dive deep into the fascinating sports history of how a wealthy linen manufacturer's son and amateur theatre lover changed the Laws of the Game forever. From a muddy pitch in Milford to the high stakes of a modern FIFA World Cup shootout, discover how McCrum's radical idea shocked Victorian England.  
​We break down:
​Why the English Football Association originally called the rule an insult ("gentlemen don't cheat!")
​The blatant, game-changing goal-line foul that forced the FA to change their minds in 1891  
​The tragic personal life of McCrum, who lost his fortune in the 1929 Wall Street Crash and died penniless, never seeing his invention achieve global glory  
​Whether you call it football or soccer, you'll never look at a twelve-yard shootout the same way again.


​⚽ Love untold history? Hit follow, leave a 5-star review, and share this episode with a friend!




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Speaker 3

Every single year, billions of people watch the most dramatic high stakes moment in all of world sports . The penalty shootout. It can win a World Cup, crown a champion, make a hero or break your heart. But what if I told you the concept of the penalty kick was invented by a terrible Irish goalkeeper who was just tired of seeing his opponents cheat? Today we are uncovering the story of William McCrum. In 1890, from a tiny rain soaked pitch in Northern Ireland McCrum proposed a radical idea that shook the Victorian football world. The English elite mocked it. They called it the death penalty or the Irishman's motion. Why? Because they believed a true gentleman would never intentionally foul an opponent. But William McCrum changed sporting history forever, yet while footballers can become heroes or villains from 12 yards, McCrum himself lost a fortune, gambled away hundreds and thousands in Monte Carlo and died completely penniless and forgotten. This is the history of the penalty kick and the man who fought to create it. Hit that follow button right now, because you will never look at a penalty shoot out the same way again. I'm Steve, he's Neil, and this is Honourable Mentions. Honourable Mentions. Hello listener. How are you? Ah the old football eh? Soccer, off -side, throw in, nutmeg and dribble. Speaking of dribble, shall we clean him up and see what he has to say for himself today? Hello, Neil.

Speaker 1

Good morning, Stephen. How are you?

Speaker 3

Oh yes, I'm fine, thank you. How are you, please, Neil?

Speaker 1

Yes, I'm very good. Thank you very much indeed for asking.

Speaker 3

Are you excited for the Football World Cup, please?

Speaker 1

Uh I like the World Cup, yes. I'm not a massive football fan, really, but you know, I don't mind the World Cup. I quite enjoy tournament competitions.

Speaker 3

It's funny you should say that because this podcast isn't just for people who like football. In fact, we are, as you know, Neil, a hilarious and inverted commas history podcast. So we've got that into the life of William McCrum. We're telling a story. It's not solely about football, it's about the man. We're playing the man, not the ball.

Speaker 1

Like any sport our nation's playing in, I'm an England supporter.

unknown

Oh yeah.

Speaker 1

Patriotic. Yeah.

Speaker 3

What's your favourite part of the game of association Football, please Neil, say penalties.

Speaker 1

Penalties.

Speaker 3

Penalties? Yeah. Okay. Who came up with the idea of the pen alty kick, please Neil?

Speaker 1

I don't know. I don't like penalty shootouts at the end. I don't like them. I can't watch them. I think I can't watch them. I have to go to the room.

Speaker 3

That's rather ruined our entire podcast.

Speaker 1

Why?

Speaker 3

Well, we won't come to that.

Speaker 1

Oh, okay. Oh yeah, but don't any anticipation of it. It's very, very it's a very dramatic part of the game, isn't it? Massively.

Speaker 3

We will come to all this later on. But from now on, Neil, come with me on another journey back through time and space and we can find out.

Speaker 1

Oh, cool then.

Speaker 3

Are you ready to wibble wobble?

Speaker 1

I always wibble wobble.

Speaker 3

Ready? Wibble wobble wobble wobble wobble. Here we are, where industrial grit once met the Russian mortar. The village of Milford rests. A quiet whisper of red brick and radical ideas woven into the green fabric of County Armagh, Northern Ireland.

Speaker 1

Green fabric?

Speaker 3

Very poetic, isn't it?

Speaker 1

Yeah. Very green fabric.

Speaker 3

The green fabric. Milford is a village shaped by the rhythmic thrum of the loom, then a gentle flow of the river Callen, standing as a living monument to an age when smoke and ambition rose together from the valley floor. Check me out.

Speaker 1

The thrum. I like the word thrum.

Speaker 3

It's a good word, isn't it?

Speaker 1

Hmm. Thrum.

Speaker 3

The village was established around a mill built by William McCrum, Sr., grandfather to our William, who what is we're going to be talking about?

Speaker 1

It's not very tall, is it?

Speaker 3

What's that?

Speaker 1

It's only a mill. It's not very big, is it? It's like a tenth of a centimetre.

Speaker 3

I see what you're you're coming from, you're dressing your measurements confused with your Industrial Revolution early factories.

Speaker 1

Oh, I always do that.

Speaker 3

So, yeah, William McCrum Sr. built this mill. Later on, the Victorian red brick homes that still exist today were constructed for the mill workers by Robert Garnony McCrum.

Speaker 1

Yeah, see, they built battle back then, didn't they? Everything was built to last.

Speaker 3

Built to last, they were. They're still there now. People are people living in them. And Robert Garmany McCrum is father to our William, who was born in 1865, into a family who was now worth a few million in today's money.

Speaker 1

A few million?

Speaker 3

So they did all right for themselves, didn't they? In fact, in fact, right, get a load of this. When Robert died in 1915, so exactly quarter past seven, William inherited the equivalent of seven point three seven million pounds in today's money.

Speaker 1

Wow. Did you kid him then?

Speaker 3

Well, you should go and look at the police reports and see whether you can do some investigating on a cold case.

Speaker 1

I might do that. I might do that.

Speaker 3

I don't think you did.

Speaker 1

Seven million.

Speaker 3

What would you do with seven million?

Speaker 1

What would I do with seven million? Oof. List is endless. I'd stock up with fig rolls.

Speaker 3

Yes, of course.

Speaker 1

Yeah. Um I'll get some more nougat or nugget. I'd take the family on a lovely holiday. I'm not going to go to where you've been several times and do the clang. But that is one of our places we'd like to go to, but we'd like to probably go to Italy, do a tour of Italy.

Speaker 3

Well, I love Italy. Very nice. And I'm like, I'd go to my favourite country. I love Italy.

Speaker 1

That's what we would do.

Speaker 3

But I'm galloping ahead here, Neil. I'm galloping ahead. I need to ask you to come with me further back in time, but not to William's birth, a bit further forward than that. 1890, if you please.

Speaker 1

1890, yeah. Happy to do that? Yeah, I've heard of it. I've heard of it, yeah.

Speaker 3

William McCrum, Jr., how will you are talking about, made a suggestion to the Irish Football Association.

Speaker 1

IFA.

Speaker 3

Are you happy to come back with me? That's wibble wobble back there. Wibble wobble, wibble wobble, wibble wobble, wibble wobble.

Speaker 1

Back of the IFA. Sorry, who was sure? I've got a suggestion here for a game of football.

Speaker 3

That's it. That's very good. What was that, please? Because that was obviously a Gaelic.

Speaker 1

It was hi, I've got a suggestion for the game of football. Thank you.

Speaker 3

Although his father and grandfather were both typical Victorian, prudent, and God fearing types.

Speaker 1

Laid back, tracksuit trousers.

Speaker 3

He loved a good laugh, told funny stories, sang songs and played sports. He set up Milford cricket and football clubs. Then, when his father opened a community hall, he got involved and encouraged the locals to take part in various activities. He also supported the local scout movement and was known for performing amateur theatre at the hall.

Speaker 1

He's one of them, isn't he?

Speaker 3

He gave him one to be done twanky outside the pound stretcher.

Speaker 1

He cuts the grass in the parks for just for pleasure, not for any reason. Just because he thinks it's the helping out. He's one of them sort of nice people. Nice community spirited.

Speaker 3

To this day, to the people of Melford, he's still known as Master Willie. As he somehow quite never grew up.

Speaker 1

He obviously had other talents as well, then.

Speaker 3

He even had a hand in founding the first Irish Football League, and in 1890, as a duck-haired, thin-faced, magnificently mustachioed 25-year-old, he played as goalkeeper for Milford FC.

Speaker 1

Not surprised if he's got a master, Willie.

Speaker 3

The league consisted of Milford along with seven teams from Belfast, and under the very early rules of the game, they took part in the very first Irish Championship.

Speaker 1

Ooh. Was it a world championship like in America?

Speaker 3

No, it's just the Irish. It was in Northern Irish League.

Speaker 1

It's just like an America, it'd be just be the world champions, even if it's seven teams in America, isn't it?

Speaker 3

Yeah, no, only Americans are out to play. So in his position in front of the goal posts at Milford's Soggy and Wedding football pitch, every week you'd see attacking players of both sides tricked, hacked down, barged even to from behind, or the shots punched away by a defender, anything to prevent them from scoring.

Speaker 1

Is that why you like to play in football? Because you can get barred into from behind. Dirty boy.

Speaker 3

It was two years before William's birth in 1863. We're wibble wobbling back again. And then a massive rift had opened up between football teams over deliberately kicking your opponent in the shins to strip them of the ball or bring them down, leading to lots of blood loss, countless crackbones, and permanent limps.

Speaker 1

Permanent limps?

Speaker 3

FW Campbell of the Black Heath Club argued that banning shin kicking would destroy the spirit of the game and warned that without it, football would lose its courage and grit.

Speaker 1

Well, yes, that seems to have progressed over the years.

Speaker 3

But he lost the vote, and deliberate shin kicking was banned, as was carrying the ball in your hands, which Campbell took well and flounced out of the meeting.

Speaker 1

Hmm. Flounced out.

Speaker 3

Flounced out, he did.

Speaker 1

I mean that he did.

Speaker 3

Yeah, exactly. This single incident, Neil. Permanently split English football into two entirely different sports. Association football or soccer. Mm-hmm. And rugby football or homoeroticism.

Speaker 1

I'm sorry, but grown men don't roll about because they've broken their hair when they're playing rugby.

Speaker 3

No, they just roll about with each other in very tight shorts and put their faces up with the bums.

Speaker 1

That's just what you see in your head.

Speaker 3

Blackheath, as you'll know, Neil, as a rugby enthusiast, that you Blackheath, where FW Campbell came from and had his little is fit. Blackheath are now the world's oldest rugby club in continuous existence.

Speaker 1

Ooh.

Speaker 2

I played against Black Rock, but not Black Heath. Thanks for that. Anyway, I digress.

Speaker 1

What colour, please?

Speaker 3

I am gallowing for Claritin Blue, the old villa, Burnley, West Ham. Victorian colours.

Speaker 1

Any reason? Is that because they're one of the older clubs in the football league?

Speaker 3

Yeah, it's sort of Victorian innit, Claritin Blue, Victorian colours there.

Speaker 1

Victorian, yes.

Speaker 3

Turns out our woolly wasn't much of a goalkeeper, and Milford weren't much of a team, Neil. During that first Irish championship season, Milford finished bottom of the table with zero points. Milpois.

Speaker 1

Milpois.

Speaker 3

The team conceded 62 goals in just nine games and threw in the towel before the season ended.

Speaker 1

I think they did. They need the people on the side with the clackers out. But those things used to roll around crack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack them things.

unknown

Right.

Speaker 3

Yeah, I don't think the term they need people to stand around with their clackers out is quite what you were intending when you said that, is it?

Speaker 1

Yes. It's just your filthy mind.

Speaker 3

Okay. So even though they conceded 62 goals in just nine games, I reckon they'd still beat Northampton Town. Would you reckon they'd be?

Speaker 1

I reckon so, yeah, I reckon my two dogs could beat Northampton Town.

Speaker 3

And there wouldn't be penalties.

Speaker 1

No, there wouldn't be penalties, no.

Speaker 3

Back then, if an infringement of the rules had occurred near the goal to an attacking player, a referral or appeal would be made to the referee.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

You'd be the referrer going to the referee. See where that name comes from? Apply the early rules of the game. If he deemed foul play had occurred, a free kick would be awarded some distance back, allowing defending players the opportunity to block the ball. Hardly fair dues, is it?

Speaker 1

No. Charles, Charlie, Charles passing the ball.

Speaker 3

Unless you were playing in Milford when William McCrum had watched your shot trickle by, clapping his hands and shouting, Johnny good shows, sir. Because I think that was what he must have been doing, saying that in 62 goals.

unknown

In nine.

Speaker 1

What is all this anyway? This ball keeps coming in this net. No idea.

Speaker 3

Johnny could show, sir.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

But he did have an idea while he was picking the ball out in his own net. What if there was a special punishment for fouls near the goal, Neil?

Speaker 1

Oh, no, that's a good idea.

Speaker 3

What if instead of a distant free kick the attacking team got a free shot close to the goal instead? With only the goalkeeper to face them.

Speaker 1

Ooh. That is a good idea.

Speaker 3

In June 1890, William sent his idea to the Irish Football Association, who probably sent it on to the English Football Association, as they set the rules of the world game at the time.

Speaker 1

Who did they? Wow, there you go. So it was a you know we are the kings of football.

Speaker 3

We invented it. So there you go. Yeah. Yeah, we gave it to the world and then sat back and let the ball be better than us. But the English were none too happy at the suggestion of Willie's.

Speaker 1

Why? Well, I mean, it depends what he's on about by the suggestion of Willie's.

Speaker 3

Yeah, that's not quite the same when you read it out loud, is it? The English were none too happy at Willie's suggestion. Probably that's a better way of putting it, isn't it?

Speaker 2

Yeah, yeah.

Speaker 3

Willis. The media, rather pleased with themselves, dubbed the idea, the death penalty. And dismissed it as the Irishman's motion. The very notion that a player would cheat to gain an advantage went against all Victorian thinking. Women was second place to fair play and gentlemanly conduct.

Speaker 1

You can't do that, chaps.

Speaker 3

You can't give me the free shot on ghoul. Besides, it was thought that penalties would slow down the game to an unbearable extent.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

So they set up a campaign group to keep football free flowing and fast-paced, called Victorian against new regulation. Or VAR for short. That's a football joke. Because what I've done though, you see, I've bought the old thing, but then say a penalty would slow the game down into the modern day, where we do have VAR, which does slow the game down and is painfully awful.

Speaker 1

Steve, can I just say it's not a joke if you have to explain it?

Speaker 3

Mum says it is.

Speaker 2

Okay, that's right, I'm sorry.

Speaker 3

The well-known sportsman, C.B. Frye, the David Beckham of his day, and captain of London Bangst Corinthian FC described the idea as well. Just do my acting bit here. A standing insult to sportsmen to have to play under a rule which assumes that players intend to trip hack, kick their appearance, and behave like cats of the most unscrupulous kidney. Unscrupulous kidney? I don't know what an unscrupulous kidney is, but this is what he said.

Speaker 1

You're an unscrupulous kidney. I say, chaps, we can't play. This is terribly, terribly horrible.

Speaker 3

You you can't. You inscrupulous kidney, huh?

Speaker 1

You're inscrupulous cad. Am I supposed to carry on smoking my pipe?

Speaker 3

William asked whether that was a no then, and they said yes. Then on Saturday the 14th of February 1891, everything changed.

Speaker 1

Everything changes but you. What take that came out?

Speaker 3

Well, everything changed. Not just everything but you.

Speaker 1

Everything. Everything changed. Yeah. Everything in the whole world.

Speaker 3

Yeah, until that point everything was in black and white.

Speaker 1

Oh, see you. Oh yeah, that's right.

Speaker 3

Everything changed. And although they didn't go to full colour, they had sepia. So everything went a slightly sort of muddy brown together. So Saturday, Neil, going back to Saturday, the 14th of February, 1891. Have you heard of Saturdays?

Speaker 1

I've heard of the 14th of February.

Speaker 3

Yes. It was the middle of the driest calendar month in English and Welsh history. Freezing cold and a lingering industrial smog hung over Trent Bridge in Nottingham in England for the quarter final of the famous FA Cup, the mother of all modern team sports competition.

Speaker 1

The Football Association Cup. Challenge Cup. Oh, sorry.

Speaker 3

That's the full title. The Football Association Challenge Cup. That's what it is. Yeah. Local favourites, not county. That's not as in short for Nottinghamshire, not as in Tanging Your Shoelace.

Speaker 1

They were back there, were they? Of course they're one of the oldest football clubs, aren't they?

Speaker 3

They're the oldest professional football club, I think. They're Sheffield Football Club, which is the oldest in the world, but not United or Wednesday, just Sheffield. But Notts County are the oldest professional football club in the world. So they were back then. Yes. Local fangits Notts County were playing at home to Stoke City. Stoke City were also still around. The game was a tense, nervous affair between two evenly matched teams, but with just seconds remaining, County were clinging on to a 1-0 lead. 1-0, if you're an American listener. So you can follow what was 0-1. In one last hurrah, Stokes surged forward and cracked a shot by the helpless knot keeper towards the empty net, but then, from nowhere, Go on. A defender managed to dive and punched the ball clear off the goal line.

Speaker 1

Well, that's not sport. That's not cricket.

Speaker 3

You scan on draw.

Speaker 1

Yeah, that's not cricket, sir. He was a scrupulous kidna. The absolute cat. I can tell you they're an absolute shower. Positive shower.

Speaker 3

There was no such thing as a sending off, and of course no such thing as a penalty kick. The referee did all he could do and awarded a free kick, which Knox County successfully charged down as the last action of the game. They won one nil, and Stoke were knocked out of the FA Cup in the most unjust way possible.

Speaker 1

Yeah, I can imagine. I suppose they kicked off about it. See what I did there?

Speaker 3

See what it did there. You made a football reference to that, didn't you?

Speaker 1

Yeah, and I have to explain it. It wasn't really a joke.

Speaker 3

No.

Speaker 1

Didn't want to get pushed into a corner. Yeah.

Speaker 3

The blatant unfairness of the Trent Bridge incident outraged the football incommunitar, the press, and the fans who widely condemned it as ungentlemanly cheating, shattering the Victorian illusion of fair play for ever.

Speaker 1

Is that is it gentlemanly cheating as well, then?

Speaker 3

Suppose if you've got plenty of money and some land and you cheated, that's gentlemanly cheating. You just get away with things, then.

Speaker 1

I'm cheating, but I'll be a gentleman about it.

Speaker 3

Terribly sorry. I did cheat rather. Here's Wiltshire. Take that as a as a payment. Suddenly the Irishman's motion did not seem so daft. A few months later, in June 1891, at the Alexandra Hotel in Glasgow, the motion was put forward by a delegate of the Irish FA and seconded by an English one. And after considerable discussion, Law 14, as it still remains today, was passed. Handling the ball and tripping or holding players within twelve yards of your own goal will result in a penalty kick.

Speaker 1

Rule fourteen.

Speaker 3

Rule fourteen.

Speaker 1

But C B Fry to these days.

Speaker 3

There's plenty of other rules now, but there's still CB Fry that isn't pretty much kidding her. C B Fry and the Corinthians continue their own private little hissy fit, and when the penalty was awarded to them, they sometimes missed on purpose, and when one was awarded against them, they sometimes left their goal unmanned in protest. Fry also tended to puff on his pipe on the pitch during any pauses in play caused by such penalties. He's piping, he's smoking a pipe. Despite their tantrums, penalty kicks were here to stay, and the first was awarded at a competitive game in Scotland just four days after the law was introduced. At the home ground of Broomfield Park, Airdrieonians FC were awarded the honour.

Speaker 1

So that's the very, very first penalty shootout.

Speaker 3

What a penalty shootout, but a penalty kick.

Speaker 1

Penalty kick.

Speaker 3

The problems did not know what to do. They'd never seen the new rule before, so they went and stood in front of the ball, just like before, when food kicks and things have been awarded. The referee had to push them back to allow the most fantastically named James McLuggage. James McLuggage. As in matching set of. James McLuggage to score history's very first penalty kick.

Speaker 1

Did he score it?

Speaker 3

Yes. Which at the time was known colloquially as a willy. Right up until 1900. When news broke of West Bromwich Albion's Albert Sphincter taking three willies in just under 20 minutes, and the whole meeting of the Women's Institute died of fainting. I suppose they did. And that's a true story. Is it? Well, the bit about luggage is true.

Speaker 1

Yeah, but not being well, uh being awarded a Willie.

Speaker 3

Yes, don't taking three willies in just under 20 minutes. That's nothing for you, is it?

Speaker 1

It's just you being dirty.

Speaker 3

Our Willie. He liked to drive around.

Speaker 1

Well, do we share one?

Speaker 3

No, the Willie, I think our Willie, I think the Willie, who's the subject of our podcast, Willie.

Speaker 1

Oh, okay.

Speaker 3

He liked to drive around his town in a Rolls-Royce and frequented the casinos in Monte Carlo when time allowed. But sadly, he was much better at losing money than making it, and lost more than a small fortune at the wreck wheels and card tables. As managing director of his father's company, Willie spent years in London, but business wasn't his strength, and he was eventually pushed to one side. Much as he treated his goalkeeping career, he was on one side. But he did excel in some areas. He is still renowned as being a fine scholar who graduated from Trinity College Dublin, and in 1909, so nearly 10 past seven, he was made the High Sheriff of Amargh, acting as the Crown's judicial representative for the area.

Speaker 1

Yeah, but they put them on a hill, don't they? They're at the very top of everybody. That's where they've become the high sheriff.

Speaker 3

I thought they just gave him a step ladder.

Speaker 1

He was he used to be a charge of the FA, didn't he?

Speaker 3

A step barter. Used to be in charge of FIFA.

Speaker 1

I thought that was I know this.

Speaker 3

I I had a step ladder. I never knew my real ladder. The stock market crash of nineteen twenty-nine and the Great Depression, Neil. What do you know about that, please?

Speaker 1

What do I know about it? There was a big depression in nineteen twenty-nine.

Speaker 3

Following the stock market crash.

Speaker 1

Was it to do with some financial something happened with the financial stock markets or something?

Speaker 3

After the stock market crash of 1929 and the Great Depression that followed, Woolley had no choice but to auction off all that remained of his inheritance from his father. Just a couple of years later, he died divorced, poor, and alone, without being recognized for his crowning achievement, whose real glory days were still to come.

Speaker 1

Really?

Speaker 3

Poor old Willie.

Speaker 1

Are they going to turn it back to a Willy? Are they going to call it a Willie again? That'd be good.

Speaker 3

It would be, wouldn't it?

Speaker 1

Hmm. Willie! Willie! Megan's crowd shouting at Willie!

Speaker 3

Come on, Rev, where's the willy? That's a Willie. Bad news from the World Cup. England miss their Willys. And as a consequence, and what else?

Speaker 1

England beat where Germany old Willy's.

Speaker 3

Not until 1968, Neil.

Speaker 1

Yeah, that's not that. Yeah. Okay.

Speaker 3

That's the actual year, if you care to go back and look.

Speaker 1

Yeah, I've just had a look, yeah.

Speaker 3

Up until 1968, cup matches ended in the draw, went to a replay. A later date, and the whole game played all over again and again and again, if necessary, until eventually a winner is found.

Speaker 1

That's ridiculous, isn't it?

Speaker 3

But in a tournament there isn't time for endless replays, so a solution.

Speaker 1

Well, just in general life there's not time, is it, if it carries on going like that?

Speaker 3

A solution was drawing lots. Two pieces of paper were folded and placed in a hat. Each paper had a team's name, and the match referee picked one out, meaning that that team won and the other went home.

Speaker 2

That's not fair.

Speaker 3

In 1968, at the Olympic Games in Mexico, Israel played Bulgaria. The score was 1-1 after extra time. The teams waited in their changing rooms for the referee. Who eventually appeared with a piece of paper to say that Bulgaria had won and Israel was out.

Speaker 1

That's a bit dodgy.

Speaker 3

A better method had to exist, surely. Something that maintained sporting integrity.

Speaker 1

Hmm.

Speaker 3

And wasn't so eloquent to allegations of corruption as you have pointed out. I was just about to say, yeah. And so FIFA introduced A willy. A penalty shootout. Yeah. I think the A willy shootout sounds wrong. I think we stick with penalties.

Speaker 1

Yeah, Willie shootout sounds sticky.

Speaker 3

It does, doesn't it? Fast forward in the wrong, please.

Speaker 1

Fast forward?

Speaker 3

Yeah. To the 17th of July 1994.

Speaker 1

Yep.

Speaker 3

Do you need to fast forward do you need to fast forward a bit further or me there now?

Speaker 1

Yeah, there.

Speaker 3

Thank you very much. 17th of July 1994, and we're at the Rose Bowl Stadium in California.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

The temperature is sizzling around 38 degrees Celsius.

Speaker 1

That's sizzling.

Speaker 3

I look for a hundred Fahrenheit for the Americans.

Speaker 1

Yeah, they're weird, don't they? What have to change things?

Speaker 3

Because they're Americans and they like to complicate, even though they don't understand it themselves. Far too complicated. Sidewalk? Mind you, you can't say path in this country. Some people take ten minutes over it and say paaaath is true.

Speaker 1

Gros.

Speaker 3

Yes. I'm sure you'll agree on 38 degrees Celsius or over 100 degrees Fahrenheit is far too hot for professional football to be played any sort of pace. Trifly. Let alone the showpiece final of the FIFA World Cup. The song's relentless as 94,000 people filled the stadium and billions watched at home. It was Italy in blue shirts and white shorts against Brazil in their famous Sunshine Yellow and the blue shorts. After a pretty dull 90 minutes, the score was nil-nil or zero zero for you Americans.

Speaker 1

Zip zip.

Speaker 3

And there was no change in extra time. So for the first time ever, the World Cup itself was going to be won or lost on penalty kicks. The rules of the penalty shootout are that teams take alternate penalties with a different player each time on the basis of the best of five kicks. If no one team is victorious after five each, then the shootout continues with players who hadn't volunteered or been selected to take the initial five until a clear winner is found.

Speaker 1

Yes, it does make sense, yes. It does.

Speaker 3

That's the penalty shootout that you railed against at the very beginning of the podcast.

Speaker 1

I did rail against it, yes, because uh well, just because I wanted to.

Speaker 3

You got it off your chest now, have you?

Speaker 1

I'm going to be on my chest now.

Speaker 3

No, you don't see that. You want to put some tongues on when we do this.

Speaker 1

Oh yeah, probably.

Speaker 3

On the 17th of July 1994, in the Rose Bowl under a wicked son, Brazil had scored three of their four penalties. Italy had two from three. Yes, by done, Neil. That meant they had to score their fourth to stay alive. The man who walked at the spot was Roberto Baggio.

Speaker 1

The black curly hair one, correct?

Speaker 3

Yes. Because of his hairstyle, the Italians called him the divine ponytail, because he had that little rat tail thing, didn't he, well yeah, it's really annoying thing. Baggio was the Italians' star of the tournament. Probably the star of the tournament. He scored five goals to bring Italy almost single-handedly to the final. In many people's eyes, he was at that moment the best footballer on the planet, bar none. If he scored, Italy could still win the World Cup. But if he missed, it was all over and Brazil were world champions. Baggio placed the ball. He stepped four steps back, twelve yards or eleven metres from goal with only the keeper to beat Neil. Just one swim left the boot from a world superstar. The goalkeeper bounced on his toes and the whistle blew. Bagian ran forward and struck the ball hard. The goalkeeper went the wrong way. Baggio's shot to the top left corner of the goal rose and kept rising until it flew over the crossbar. No. The Brazilian goalkeeper fell to his knees and screamed as if his dive in the wrong direction contributed more than the enormous pressure on Baggio's shoulders.

Speaker 2

Yeah.

Speaker 3

The Brazilian players and staff swarmed onto the field. They jumped, they skipped, they hugged, they cried, and they thanked their god. And in the middle of it all, Roberto Baggio did not move from the penalty spot, as if he was in another dimension altogether. His head drooped, his hands rested on his hips. He just stood there alone.

Speaker 1

That is probably the worst thing ever to happen in the world when in the world of sport.

Speaker 3

The photograph of the blue shirted Roberto Baggio standing still amongst the yellow chaos has become one of the most iconic images in all sport and remains burned in the memory of everyone who saw it. What do you think, Neil Paines, if Roberto Baggio there is head bowed, is one of the most iconic moments in all World Cup history? What else would you say are iconic moments in World Cup history?

Speaker 1

In football World Cup history.

Speaker 3

Yes.

Speaker 1

Oh, okay. Um I would say probably that goal from Brazil when they kept passing it around everywhere and then that guy sort of coming from.

Speaker 3

That's a hell of a goal. That's a hell of a goal, yeah. One of my favourites. Golden Banks save from Pele in the same tournament.

Speaker 1

That's a hell of a save as well.

Speaker 3

Jeff Hurst in 1966, they think it's all over. Brian Brian Robson's scoring in in front in 1982 with the first goal in the England game. Oh, against France. Yeah.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

Maradona's hand of goals and that triple E goal that he scored. And the celebrations from USA in 1994. When Maradona scored and he came running into the camera with his eyes massively wide. Like he wasn't pumped up on cocaine at the time.

Speaker 1

Of course he wasn't. No, I'm sure he wasn't, no.

Speaker 3

Which of course just a few hours later we found out he was.

Speaker 1

Oh, and Vivu Zaylas as well. That's a that's a highlight of the World Cup.

Speaker 3

Yeah, of course, in Siddhivar.

Speaker 1

Siddhivar.

Speaker 3

Well, there's many, isn't there? There's many. But I would argue with it. The invention of the shootout has added to the drama, a self-contained moment, a bit of the old wild west. Two gun Fighters facing off against each other, winner takes all. And William McCrum from County Armagh brought us that now.

Speaker 1

So it's just a simple man come up with an idea. And then now it's in association football around the world.

Speaker 3

Yeah, so he just saw cheating and thought, well, I'm not having this.

Speaker 1

Yeah, simple idea, but it's done the trick, I suppose. But a lot of people do say, oh, there must be something different than having penalty shootouts and stuff. But what is it? Come up with an alternative.

Speaker 3

To on management's pod at gmail.com.

Speaker 1

Because I can't see that there could be. You have a normal time, you have extra time. That's not work, so you've got to have a shootout, haven't you?

Speaker 3

You have the golden goal at one point, where the first team to score in extra time automatically won the match stopped. But then what happened was teams decide to play excessively negatively, trying not to continue rather than score. So yes, what do you do? What does one do? As Roberto Taribaggio himself set me all.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

Is that Italian?

Speaker 1

Yeah. For this is what I want to say.

Speaker 3

Okay. He said penalties. That's Italian for penalties.

Speaker 1

Yeah.

Speaker 3

He said, penalties are only missed by those who have the courage to take them.

Speaker 1

That is very true.

Speaker 3

That is very true, Roberto. Isn't it? Somewhere amongst all this, CP Fry is rolling in his grave, smoking a bit of rough shag.

Speaker 2

Mm-hmm.

Speaker 3

Because he's the man who said that he didn't like penalties, and yet here they are, and they're a fundamental part of the game.

Speaker 1

I would say the most dramatic part of the game, especially in tournament football.

Speaker 3

Yes. We're having a shootout. I wanted a shootout. That one's legend was it the Cronnies.

Speaker 1

Legend, yeah.

Speaker 3

I came here for a shootout. So w for joining us for yet another episode of Honourable Mentions! All about William McCrum. And his invention of the Willie. Which we now call the penalty kick. If you would like to message us at any point, tell us what you think, or even pay us to stop. We're quite happy. And they do that, Leo, please.

Speaker 1

All the social medias on YouTube and Instagram and Facebook and Spotify, TikTok, and Discord. We're on Discord as well. And you can also get us at honorable mentionspod at gmail.com.

Speaker 3

Or if you're listening on Spotify, you can message through Spotify.

Speaker 1

Yeah. Steve has put out a request for anyone to send him pictures of their willies, but he really means their penalties.

Speaker 3

Yeah. Well, I actually for the purposes of the tape, no, I haven't sent that out because of the court injunction that I received. So nobody's not bullied. Something I've actually done. So on tune from this thing, we will be back again next week for another exciting episode of Du Honorable Mentions. Bye. Some people are on the pitch, they think it's all over.

Speaker 1

Yeah. No, it's a Willie.

Speaker

Hola, my name is Lionel Messi. I am the god, and I am here to give you a warning. Please do not do what I have done after listening to that episode of Honorable Mentions. Apparently, penalty kicks never were referred to as anything else. And I now have to record this outro as community service after I challenged the bald boy to see if he could stop my wheelie. If you would like to listen to more episodes of Honorable Mentions, Hilarious History, please subscribe so you don't miss out. And you can even listen to episodes you may have missed.

unknown

Shhh.

Speaker

Miss like an Englishman in a penalty should have. Honorable Mentions is researched by Stephen Webb. Although they make it up as they go along, no tactics, nothing changed. It is an unconscious brothers production. And if you like that team tune, they have and let's face it, who doesn't? You can stream further music from the composer and performer, a big favorite with all Argentinians, paper and the bandits. So that's me, has told you. Can I go now?

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