Curated by Federico Calabrese
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1998 World Cup, Stade de France in Saint-Denis, July 3rd. In one of the most iconic stadiums in France, the most anticipated quarter-final of that World Cup takes place.
On one side, there’s France, hoping to win its first-ever World Cup. On the other, Cesare Maldini’s Italy, counting on stars like Vieri, Inzaghi, Del Piero, and Baggio.
1998 World Cup: Baggio and that sliding doors moment
It was a tense match where neither team was willing to take risks. As the minutes ticked by, the minds of all 22 players on the pitch were already focused on the upcoming penalty shootout. Time kept moving, seemingly slower with each second.
In the 12th minute of extra time, Albertini spotted Roberto Baggio making a run. The pass was perfect, even though the Divine Ponytail was slightly off angle. A perfect control — and right there, came the confirmation of how football is all about sliding doors that can change history.
A different ending at the World Cup in France
A magnificent turn, a flawless play that, in a perfect storybook, would have deserved the perfect ending. A romantic move that, however, ended just inches wide of the post.
Then came Di Biagio’s penalty, crashing against the crossbar. Then came France, who would go on to defeat Croatia and Brazil, and lift the World Cup trophy for the first time in their history.
An indecipherable story
That July 3rd of 1998 — now 27 years ago — history could have taken a different turn. Football is beautiful for this very reason: romantic yet tragic, an eternal “what could have been”, endless unkept promises or haunting regrets like “what if”.
Roberto Baggio may be the most iconic figure in Italian football history because, for better or worse, he embodied and helped write a part of it.
Goals, assists, magical moments, missed penalties, and wasted chances. The Divine Ponytail is the purest representation of what football truly means, because it’s all about sliding doors that might have changed the course of history.
A story already written in destiny? Who knows. But that’s also why football is so beautiful. Beautiful because it’s unpredictable. Beautiful because in front of goal, you never truly know what might happen.
And there, in the stands, a child beside his grandfather sighs as he waits for what’s to come. That’s the poetry of football.
That day, at the Stade de France, the wheel turned in favor of the French side — yet another piece in a story that could never follow a fixed script.
Curated by Federico Calabrese
