Argentina 0-1 Cameroon, 8th June 1990

Well, that was unexpected.

This was meant to be a procession. A grand stage for defending champions Argentina to show the world they were back in business. You could have got better odds on finding Elvis on the moon than Cameroon getting a win here.

They were the also-rans. The opposing eleven required by law to begin a game of association football. 500-1 outsiders to win the trophy was generous. Their preparation had been ruined by arguments over bonuses and team selections, whilst they’d been thumped in friendlies against local teams.They were a shambles.

No, this game was all about the boys from Buenos Aires. The spine of the victorious ‘86 team was still intact. Nery Pumpido between the sticks. Oscar Ruggeri marshalling the backline. Jorge Burruchaga, the matchwinner in Mexico, would be a constant threat from midfield.And then there was the magnificent Diego Maradona.

Despite concerns about his erratic lifestyle, the best player in the world had just completed a second Scudetto-winning season with Napoli. Once again the impoverished south had upset Italy’s traditional northern powerbase of Milan, Roma and Juventus.

The man whose “Hand of God” had caused such controversy in Mexico, had now reached the official status of deity in Naples. In fact, Maradona had even taken the Pope to task on a trip to the Vatican, telling him to sell some of his many luxurious artefacts - Do something, amigo - if he was serious about caring for the poor. I’m not sure what the exact criteria for having a superstar ego is. But when you’re telling the leader of the worldwide Catholic Church to have a jumble sale, you’re definitely in the mix.

So it was the sort of classic confrontation the World Cup is famous for: the superstars against the plucky underdogs.What no one accounted for was those same underdogs turning into a snarling Rottweilers as soon as the whistle blew.

It’s hard to know precisely what Cameroon’s tactics were. It looked like 4-4-2 with a smattering of GBH. At times the ball was utterly inconsequential. Any human being in a blue and white shirt was a viable target. If there was a leather sphere within spitting distance, then great. But don’t let that stop you from the task at hand. Get stuck in, lads. It is the World Cup after all.

The busiest man in the stadium was the referee as the game lulled intoa rather depressing sequence of(i) fouling and (ii) the sort of frequent whistling you’d hear when Sam Foxwalked past a building site.

In the occasional outbreaks of play, the Africans offered promise in attack, whilst keeper Thomas N’Kono foiled Maradona on the very rare occasions Cameroon left him vertical.

When the goal arrived, it was as appalling as the game deserved. Francois Omam-Biyik got his head to a hopeful cross and made a gentle attempt to aim it goalbounds. Pumpido, displaying the reflexes of a man who’s spent the afternoon in the sun drinking Pina Colada, somehow palmed it into the net. It was the kind of pathetic keeping you see in parks across the country as dads let their three-year-old sons experience the thrill of scoring a goal.

Spurred into action, Argentina upped the tempo. Cameroon upped the violence. They ended the game with nine men.First to go was Andre Kana-Biyik, red-carded for a wonderfully cynical trip on substitute Claudio Caniggia.

Then followed possibly the greatest series of shithousery in World Cup history. Caniggia, whose introduction brought much-needed pace and urgency to Argentina’s play, surged towards the African goal. Like Schwarzenegger in The Running Man, he then ran a gauntlet of increasingly murderous opponents. Two men tried - and failed - to halt his progress, as the forward vaulted their wild attempts at tackles.

Cameroon needed a hero. Step forward Benjamin Massing.

The midfield colossus learnt from his colleagues’ mistakes. Rather than go to ground and risk another acrobatic escape, Big Ben stayed bolt upright and executed the quite perfect bodycheck. It was bastardry of the highest order. Sumo had come to the San Siro.

Massing lost a shoe in the impact. Caniggia nearly lost his lungs. As the strikergasped for breath, the referee grabbed his red card.

Despite their numerical advantage, Argentina couldn’t muster an equaliser in the dying moments.

A day of world-class shit-kicking had ended in a World Cup shock. Welcome to Italia 90.

About the author: World Cup Rewind is a series written by Sid Lambert (@sid_lambert), looking back at classic moments from Italia 90, USA 94 and France 98. Sid's account is a must-follow for anyone who loves football nostalgia. You might want to check out his book too.

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