In 1970, Brazil took the Jules Rimet Cup permanently and a new trophy had to be made. The one presented in Munich in 1974 is the one still being lifted today. And with the trophy, the idea of how the game was played also changed.

What the Dutch did in 1974 is still being explained in coaching schools. The idea, which came from Ajax under Rinus Michels, was simple to describe and incredibly difficult to execute: any player could occupy any position. If the fullback went forward, someone covered his space; if the striker dropped deep to receive the ball, another one attacked the vacated area. Everyone attacked and everyone defended, and the team stretched and compressed like an accordion.
At the centre of it all, Johan Cruyff. He wasn't just the best player: he was the one who understood the system better than anyone else and the one who directed it from within.
On 19 June, against Sweden, Cruyff pulled off a move that outlived him and his team: he feinted a cross, flicked the ball behind his standing leg and left defender Jan Olsson sitting down. It's the Cruyff Turn, and today seven-year-olds practice it in playgrounds all over the world.

Holland steamrolled everyone. 4-0 against Argentina and 2-0 against Brazil, the defending champions. They reached the final without conceding a single goal in open play.
The draw did something that had never happened before and would never happen again: it put West Germany and the German Democratic Republic in the same group. With the Wall standing and the Cold War at its peak, the two nations faced off on 22 June in Hamburg.
The eastern side won, 1-0, with a goal from Jürgen Sparwasser. It was a political earthquake and the most famous goal in East German football history.
But here's the twist that hardly anyone tells: that defeat actually helped West Germany. Since both teams were already qualified, losing meant finishing second in the group and dropping into the easier half of the knockout stage — the one with Yugoslavia, Sweden and Poland — while the GDR faced Brazil, Argentina and Holland. That most humiliating defeat cleared the path to the title.

Zaire — now the Democratic Republic of the Congo — was the first sub-Saharan African team to play in a World Cup. And what's remembered from that is a joke that's been told for fifty years.
Against Brazil, on a free kick, defender Mwepu Ilunga ran out of the wall and cleared the ball before it was even put into play. The referee showed him a card. For decades it was told as proof that those players didn't even know the rules.
The reality is far uglier. Zaire had just lost 9-0 to Yugoslavia, and Mobutu's regime sent them a message: if they lost by four or more goals, they wouldn't be going home. Ilunga explained years later that he knew exactly what he was doing: he wanted to get sent off. Plus they hadn't been paid what they were promised for weeks. Zaire lost 3-0 to Brazil, staying under the limit.

7 July, Olympiastadion München. Holland kicked off and started passing. Fourteen or fifteen passes later, without any German having touched the ball yet, Cruyff went into the box and Uli Hoeneß brought him down. Penalty. Neeskens scored it. The first penalty in World Cup final history, and with the scoreline 1-0 before the opposition had even touched the ball.
And then the usual Germany thing happened. Breitner levelled from a penalty in the 25th and Gerd Müller made it 2-1 just before half-time with an impossible twist inside the box. In the second half Holland attacked relentlessly and couldn't find the back of the net.
Cruyff left with the silver medal and with the Golden Ball for the tournament's best player.


That he refused to play in Argentina as a protest against Videla's military dictatorship. It's the version that's been told for thirty years and the one almost all documentaries repeat.
That he himself denied it in 2008. The real reason was a kidnapping attempt at his Barcelona home in 1977: armed men broke in at night, tied him and his wife up in front of their children and held guns to their heads. After that, he decided he wouldn't be separated from his family. Cruyff explicitly denied both the political version and the idea of a falling-out with the Dutch federation over sponsorship. It's a textbook case: for decades he was credited with a political gesture he never made, and the truth was far darker and far less heroic.
That Zaire's defender ran out of the wall and cleared the free kick because he didn't know the rules. It's one of the most-watched "funny" clips in World Cup history.
That he explained years later it was deliberate: he was trying to get sent off. Zaire had just conceded a 9-0 and the team had been warned that if they lost by four or more goals they wouldn't be going home; plus they hadn't been paid for weeks. It's hardly credible that an international player wouldn't know when the ball was in play. The fifty-year-old joke was covering up a very real threat.
That the defeat to communist East Germany was the biggest embarrassment in their history.
That the political blow was huge, there's no denying that. But it worked out well for them on the pitch: both were already qualified, and losing put them in the easier group of the second phase while the GDR fell into the group with Brazil, Argentina and Holland. West Germany won the tournament; the GDR didn't get past that stage and never qualified for another World Cup. That 1-0 is the only match ever played between the two Germanies.
What endured was the phrase that sums up this chapter: Holland 74 is the most remembered runners-up in history. Total Football changed the sport — from it came Ajax, Cruyff's Barcelona, tiki-taka and much of what's played today — and yet it won nothing. Cruyff never played another World Cup.
And what endured was an uncomfortable lesson that runs through this series from 1954: the team that enchants and the team that wins are almost never the same.
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