The 2002 World Cup was football’s leap into the new millennium.
Everything about it felt electric and futuristic, from the neon boots to the neon cities. The wonder only Japan and South Korea could conjure gave the tournament a dreamlike quality.
The old giants arrived uneasy. Brazil still nursing the trauma of France ’98. France themselves crashed out without scoring a single goal, humbled before they finished unpacking. Argentina reached the end of their golden generation without much to show for it. Italy creaked through the group stage, only to be undone by South Korea and a storm of officiating chaos. England, trapped between eras and mindsets, bowed out at the quarter-final stage. Darius Vassell, Trevor Sinclair, Kieron Dyer and Danny Mills were never likely to get it done against Brazil.
South Korea sprinted into the semi-finals, driven by unrelenting energy, deafening support, and one or two decisions that will forever live in the margins. Turkey, too, defied belief, reaching third place on the back of luck, spirit, and a draw that kept the big boys out of sight.
Then there was Oliver Kahn. A wall in gloves. The first goalkeeper ever to win Player of the Tournament, though fate saved its cruellest twist for him. In the final, one spilled shot, handed Brazil the title he’d seemed destined to grab.
Brazil were as we’ve come to know them: measured beneath the magic. They hammered the minnows and edged past the big boys. Roque Júnior, Edmílson, Lúcio, Gilberto Silva and Kléberson the scaffolding behind the stardust. Then there was the front three. Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Rivaldo. Ronaldo’s light was dimmed a little but he still took home the Golden Boot. Ronaldinho still emerging and would go on to become the best player on the planet. And Rivaldo, who showed as much shithousery as skill.
Brazil restored the order of things. Ronaldo scored twice in the final, the ghost of Paris exorcised under Yokohama’s floodlights. Cafu, the first man to play in three consecutive World Cup finals, lifted the trophy.
The 2002 World Cup didn’t feel like an ending or a beginning. It felt like a new world discovering the old game all over again.
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