World Cup Flashback: West Germany 1990
Clinical Klinsmann, Volatile Völler, and everything else.
Hello and welcome to the first World Cup Flashback, looking at the West Germany side that won the tournament in 1990. This article is free, as will the next edition, but the rest will be available only to paying subscribers. Join now to get 20% off for a year!
Note: I will be calling this team “Germany” for the most part, as the reunified German side is considered by FIFA to be the successor to this team rather than East Germany. But, yes, at the time they were formally referred to as “West Germany”.
On the 9th November 1989, the Berlin Wall came down.
Eight months later, and 750 miles (1200km) south, Lothar Matthäus lifts the World Cup.
“It was my job to prepare the team for this important game”, manager Franz Beckenbauer said of his team’s qualifier against Wales to be played on the 15th November, “but suddenly I couldn't concentrate anymore.
“We almost failed because of this wall”.
In the end, “West” Germany qualified for their last-ever tournament under that name on the night against Wales. In truth, they’d made a bit of a mess out of it. Two draws against the Netherlands was understandable, but dropping points away to Wales can’t be justified. In the end, they were bailed out by virtue of being one of the two best “runners up” in the UEFA qualification, saved by Denmark bottled it on their final matchday. The Danes get one more point in their group, and England add another couple to their goal difference, and Beckenbauer’s side wouldn’t have even made it to the tournament they were about to win.
Germany have always been, as they say, a “tournament team”. They might not look the part going in but, as the cliche goes, you can “never write them off”. The 1970s had been a real golden era, combining the World Cup win in 1974 with European Championship titles in 1972 and finally 1980. But since then, Die Mannschaft had become nearly men: they lost two successive World Cup finals in ‘82 and ‘86, which has to sting. Next, they were knocked out of the Euro ‘88 semi-finals by their arch-rivals the Netherlands with two late goals, turning around a match Germany had led for most of the 90 minutes. As close as they got, it was never enough.
Beckenbauer had been in charge for six years at this point. A veteran of the ‘74 champion side, Beckenbauer was a traditionalist when it came to German football. This later put him at odds with an emerging new wave, mocking Ralf Rangnick’s Arrigo Sacchi-inspired zonal pressing system in 1998, then expressing his distaste for Pep Guardiola’s positional play in 2014. But that was all to come. Back in 1990, the old-fashioned German methods still worked.
Maybe Beckenbauer came to distrust the new school because of his own playing career. Beckenbauer defined the libero role, going beyond the English term “sweeper” to be a free man with and without the ball, a playmaker too deep to be marked with the whole pitch in front of him. The tactical revolution in Germany led by figures like Rangnick and Jürgen Klopp would effectively kill off the position, but until then it was absolutely the cornerstone of German football.
The draw wasn’t too hard on Germany. Their first opponents were Yugoslavia (yes, this was a long time ago), who had failed to qualify for either of their previous two major tournaments. Yugoslavia’s manager Ivica Osim also favoured a back three system with a sweeper, so this was a game Germany could win primarily by simply having better players.
Beckenbauer played his conventional system. Bodo Illgner, at 23 years old, had emerged as a really exciting option in goal. Bayern’s Klaus Augenthaler was not the most prestigious name ever to play as Germany’s libero, but he was an experienced player at this point and could ping the ball from side to side as the position required. At centre back, Thomas Berthold of Roma was one of the numerous players based in Serie A at the time, while Stuttgart’s Guido Buchwald made up the back three. Stefan Reuter – another Bayern name – was playing at right wing-back while Andreas Brehme was the more exciting and attack-minded option on the other side.
In midfield, Thomas Haßler and Uwe Bein were primarily regarded as good passers, which complemented star man Lothar Matthäus nicely. Matthäus was everything a German midfielder was supposed to be: a strong and aggressive box-to-box player who can hit a powerful strike from range. Upfront, Rudi Völler was 30 years old and still in his prime. But the name you’re most likely to remember is his strike partner, 25-year-old Jürgen Klinsmann. The Inter striker was emerging as one of Serie A’s best forwards along with Völler. Serie A was so far ahead of every other league at this point, so that was saying something. Italy really was the perfect setting for this World Cup.
Germany struggled to break Yugoslavia down in the early going. Yugoslavia played a deep block and let Beckenbauer’s team move the ball from side to side without ever really creating any great chances. It took a brilliant Matthäus strike from just outside the box on the half-turn to change things. Once Germany got their first, things were more fluid. Yugoslavia gave them a little more space to attack into and they started playing some really enjoyable attacking football. Ten minutes later, Klinsmann doubled their lead with a brilliant diving header at a tight angle from Brehme’s low cross. This typified a lot of Germany’s play, which involved heavy use of the wing backs as everyone else made pretty vertical runs towards the box.
Germany dominated after half-time, though Yugoslavia got one back from a set piece against the run of play. But Germany didn’t get rattled in the slightest. They kept attacking and scoring in the same way: first from Mahhäus driving forward and scoring another trademark strike from range, then from Brehme shooting in a wide area that allowed the ‘keeper to parry it for a Völler tap in. Wing-backs putting the ball in dangerous areas, strikers in the box, Matthäus driving forward. Rinse and repeat. Germany were well worth their 4-1 victory.
Obviously happy with what he saw, Beckenbauer picked an unchanged team for the second game against the United Arab Emirates. This was the UAE’s first and, as it stands, only World Cup appearance. Only two Asian teams qualified for the tournament in 1990, and no one expected much. The entire squad played their club football in what was then called the UAE League. They were notably managed by Brazillian Carlos Alberto Parreira, in the middle of a nomadic career that saw some incredible highs (more on that next time) and a willingness to work anywhere around the world. This was already his sixth international job, after managing Ghana, Kuwait, a first spell with his native Brazil, a first spell with the UAE, a brief switch to Saudi Arabia and then returning to the UAE. With prior World Cup finals experience, he had the tools to make it difficult for Germany.
But he didn’t. The idea was sound, though straightforward. The UAE would sit deep without the ball and soak up pressure. Simultaneously, they wouldn’t be shy about making some nasty challenges. A classic David against Goliath approach. It did force Germany into the infamous passing U-shape, to which they would play the ball across the back line and to the wing backs without getting the midfielders involved. But it didn’t stop them from creating chances. Germany’s go-to approach of putting crosses in for the strikers and running midfielders – often creating things through knock-downs – worked a treat here again. They didn’t score until the 35th minute, but they were creating from the off.
The opener came just as you’d expect: from a wide area. Reuter played a ball straight down the line to Klinsmann, who had drifted out to the right, and then passed it square for a Völler tap-in. They almost instantly made it two, with Reuter putting in a cross, and Klinsmann this time finishing it with a header from deep in the box. They totally switched off at the start of the second half to concede a poor goal, but otherwise, Germany were cruising. They scored three more, with one each for Matthäus and Bein before Völler finished it off with his second. It was easy.
Germany were all but sure to qualify before the final group stage game against Colombia, but still felt there was enough to play for to pick a strong team. Hans Pflügler came in for Brehme in the only change. Colombia were a better side than the UAE or Yugoslavia, with Carlos Valderrama the most familiar name to modern eyes. This was much more of a test. Both sides had chances throughout but it took until the 88th minute for substitute Pierre Littbarski to break the deadlock, hitting it with a powerful left foot on his natural side after being slid in by Völler. Freddy Rincón equalised in injury time, but it didn’t matter to Germany. They were through as group winners regardless.
Ask any German who they’d most like to beat in a major tournament knockout game and the answer will invariably be the Netherlands. Their previous World Cup win came by beating the Dutch in the final, in which Beckenbauer himself featured as the functional Germans defeated Johan Cruyff et al’s Total Football. The Oranje weren’t lacking for star power. The most famous names to modern eyes would be centre backs Ronald Koeman and Frank Rijkaard, along with Marco van Basten and Ruud Gullit higher up the pitch. The Dutch had won Euro 88 two years earlier and could probably be called the favourites for this game.
Beckenbauer made some key changes. Brehme returned at left wing-back in place of Plügler. Bein and Häßler were both dropped from midfield, to be replaced by Buchwald stepping up from centre back and Littbarski. Jürgen Kohler took Buchwald’s old centre back spot.
As you’d expect for a high-stakes game between fierce rivals, the opening was intense. The crowd were up for it, both teams wanted to get on the front foot, and challenges were flying in. Lord knows how many players would pick up cards if this was refereed to modern standards. For the sake of the narrative of this article, I really want to say the Dutch played a fluid brand of exciting football against Germany’s pragmatism. But that’s not really what was happening. The Netherlands were a little more technical and tried to move the ball through midfield in a slightly more progressive way. But these are minor differences. Both teams were primarily focused on aggression in the opening stages. This was blood and guts football.
Then they took it even further. Völler was chasing towards the box when Rijkaard made a cynical challenge from behind. It would be a straight red today, but in 1990 it only warranted a booking. The two players were exchanging some pretty nasty words, and Völler quickly got booked for petulance himself. Less than a minute later, Völler goes down in the box and the referee – for reasons I do not understand at all – sends him off. Rijkaard confronted Völler and too found himself sent off. The situation was so bizarre that I find it hard to describe.
You don’t get many games where both sides have to play for over an hour with ten men. I don’t imagine many coaches have spent time training players for that scenario. But it’s what we had on show here.
Here’s the thing about ten vs ten matches: they are awesome and should be encouraged as much as possible. Both teams had so much space to attack into, leading to a very open and exciting game. There wasn’t much tactical cohesion here, but it was certainly exciting and intense.
Germany were happy to let the Dutch have the ball at the start of the second half while threatening on the break. One of their best chances came from a fast counter with Klinsmann drifting wide to put in a cross for Matthaus to just head over. This was really a star showing for Klinsmann. Playing as the lone striker, he was having to do it all, holding the ball up and working the channels while also providing the goal threat. This game is probably his most famous for Die Mannschaft and it’s easy to see why. He did it all himself. It’s common in the 21st century to see lone strikers play like this, but back in 1990 it was genuinely unusual.
He got his reward after 51 minutes. In typical style for this team, it came from the flanks. Buchwald found himself out on the left and drove forward to put in a low cross. Klinsmann used all those natural striker instincts to sniff out a scruffy goal and applied a cute finish right at the near post. I don’t speak any German, but I don’t think I need a translation for the German-language broadcast commentators screaming as it went in. 1-0 to Germany against their defining rivals.
The Dutch really threw everything at it after that. Again, I must admit I was disappointed by the Netherlands here. This was far from the Total Football ideals, without any clear emphasis on pressing or fluidity. They were just throwing the kitchen sink at it. Germany still looked more of a threat breaking forward than the Netherlands ever did despite having most of the ball.
Then the game was won. The ball fell to Brehme on the edge of the box, and he just struck the ball perfectly, bending it right into the corner. There isn’t a tactical spin on this one. It’s one of those moments where the ball just goes in the back of the net.
The Dutch did get one back through a very soft penalty, but it didn’t matter. It was too late. Germany were heading to the quarter-finals.
The quarter-finals brought Czechoslovakia for their last-ever major tournament appearance. Both the Czech Republic and Slovakia would make separate World Cups in the future, but this was it for the combined former state. The Czechoslovaks had missed out on the 1986 World Cup as well as Euro 88, so we weren’t talking about a footballing powerhouse here. The side was evenly split between those playing their trade in the old Czechoslovak league and those playing abroad.
Beckenbauer wasn’t about to mess with a winning formula, but some minor tweaks were needed. Völler was suspended, so in came Karl-Heinz Riedle upfront alongside Klinsmann. Reuter dropped out for Bein in a minor tactical reshuffle. It was generally business as usual.
This game was not a classic. Germany dominated the opening period easily, again moving the ball from side to side in their usual attacking patterns. They had plenty of shots, but the breakthrough came after 25 minutes when Klinsmann gets brought down in the penalty area. For all his reputation as a diver, there was no doubt this was a penalty. Matthäus takes the penalty, going low and hard as the ‘keeper guesses the wrong way. 1-0 to Germany. All they needed to do was hold it, and they did. This really was the “efficient” Germany stereotype that has died off in an era of gegenpressing. Job done, and let’s never talk about the game again.
When people remember this World Cup in England, there’s only one match they think of. Part of the impetus for writing this was to push beyond that notion and try to understand the tournament from a different perspective. For a generation of English football fans slightly older than me, the World Cup memory is of seeing the Three Lions fall on penalties in this match.
England had become suspiciously “German” in their approach. Bobby Robson’s team were playing a sweeper at the back, with the two other centre backs man marking Germany’s strikers. This was not the way English football generally did things. Beckenbauer meanwhile made three changes. He switched things up in midfield, having Haßler and Olaf Thon replace Littbarski and Bein. Völler, of course, came back in to partner Klinsmann upfront, though injury decided he would only make it 38 minutes before Riedle had to replace him.
This was a strange game by modern standards. Neither team had any interest in pressing to win the ball back. Even your “Mourinho masterclass” park the bus sides press more than this today. When either side had the ball, they were under no pressure by the opponent. And both teams wanted to get it up the pitch quickly. So you had a game with a lot of transitions and turnovers, but almost no pressing.
Germany were marginally better for most of the game. England worked the ball into the final third well but, once they got there, they had Gary Lineker upfront alone against three German defenders. It took an hour, and it had a huge element of luck, but Germany did find themselves ahead. They had a free kick just outside the area, and gently slide it for Brehme to just whack it as hard as he could. You don’t see that routine so often today. It should have just crashed into England’s wall. But Paul Parker rushes to block the shot and the ball deflects off his foot, bending wickedly over Peter Shilton’s head and into the goal. If you were a believer in fate, you would’ve said that Germany were destined to win the World Cup with luck like that.
The players didn’t act like it. Germany allowed England to dominate straight after the goal, conceding plenty of good chances for the equaliser. I don’t know whether it was nerves or overconfidence or something else, but they just started to play within themselves. England get their goal by imitating Germany. They get it wide to Parker, who puts in a floated cross that causes chaos in the box. The German defenders make a mess of it, giving room for Lineker to score one of his trademark scruffy finishes. Both sides then pushed for a winner, but we were heading for extra time.
In moments like this, you really understand how much football has changed in 32 years. Germany had made two changes coming into extra time while England had made just one. Neither team made another substitution. In the modern game, sides would be using all six of their available subs in that situation, desperate to get fresh legs on the pitch. But here we were in 1990, before modern sports science took hold, and they just stuck with what they had for two hours. And this showed in the football. Neither team could really have the energy to do anything other than thump it long and hope. Germany really should’ve won it with a few good chances Klinsmann missed.
Penalties are another thing that feel like a different sport in 1990. Every player for both countries just hit it hard and hoped. As it was, Illgner got the better of England when Stuart Pearce hit it straight at him. Germany were through to another World Cup final. While I don’t think they deserved to lose any of the knockout games, they hadn’t really sparkled much. This was a war of attrition and they made it to the big game.
Once they got there, they had the very small matter of Diego Maradona to deal with. Germany had lost to Argentina in the World Cup final four years earlier, in a game where Maradona didn’t shine but still produced a lot of quality for others to deliver. This was both revenge for Germany and a chance to finally end the streak of missing out at the last moment. This was rewriting history.
The final had an interesting tension. The Italian neutrals at the Stadio Olimpico in Rome that day would naturally dislike Germany, one of the country’s fiercest footballing rivals. But Maradona had become the most hated man in Italy following his exploits for Napoli, and raised tensions after he led Argentina to knock out the Azzurri in the semi-finals. FIFA could not have picked a more unpopular final for those in the host nation.
To do this, Beckenbauer made just one change, with Littbarski replacing Thon as expected. Argentina manager Carlos Bilardo also favoured a back three. He played a sort of 3-5-1-1, with a tight midfield three protecting the back line and Maradona buzzing around striker Gustavo Dezotti. Bilardo’s plan was the same as it had been four years ago: defend deep, keep it as tight as possible, then give it to Diego.
The final is remembered for being terrible. I don’t disagree. Germany did at least show some impetus, whereas Argentina had no real ideas. They were creating chances through their usual route of the wing backs time and time again, though without a truly golden opportunity. I think most would agree, though, that only one side really tried to play football.
Their work paid off right towards the end, when Roberto Sensini made a clumsy challenge on Völler in his own box. It was hardly a brilliant goalscoring opportunity, so I don’t understand why Sensini took the risk. Reports from the time say the decision was contentious, which shows you how far refereeing has come. To my eyes watching in 2022, it’s a penalty. Brehme’s spot kick was pretty tame, but he got it in the bottom corner and the goalkeeper was too slow to move. That was all it took, and West Germany had won the World Cup for their third and final time before reunification.
Was this a great World Cup-winning side? No. I understand why there hasn’t been a great deal written in English about the football on display. There’s a reason everyone outside of England considers the 1990 World Cup to be among the worst of all time. But this was a side of old-fashioned values, winning the World Cup in a traditional German way. The next time Germany would win the competition, it would be as a new country, with new impetus and ideas, playing a new type of football. This, in 1990, was the old way. This was football. It would never be the same again.