Of football and music: Sports writer Jacob Sweetman on the World Cup and the music it inspires

I remember the TV as I remember his pass that lead to the penalty, as I remember the way he missed that penalty itself. I remember that five minutes or so almost to the second, but to this day I have barely heard a noise like the one that preceded it all: a roar like it had been delivered out of the bowels of the earth at the cleaving of the continents, like God himself had come onto the pitch unannounced there to make things right. It was my first World Cup, Mexico 1986, and I was eight years old.

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