This feature appeared as part of a series in which The National's sports writers each reminisce about one World Cup tournament that sticks in their mind. |
The 1998 World Cup finals arrived when my unadulterated love for the beautiful game was at its peak. I was 13 and old enough to appreciate the importance of a tournament that takes place once every four years, but also still young enough to be oblivious to some of the less savoury aspects of a sport that was becoming increasingly influenced by money and businessmen. To continue reading, click here. |