Home 1998 – Adidas
The Country
Unless you’re actually in France reading this, then chances are you don’t much like the French. But that’s OK, because they don’t like you either. Despite their status as the world’s most visited nation, France largely regards foreigners – and tourists especially – as the ‘merde’ on their shoes, a swarm of uncouth riff-raff who embarrass themselves by dousing their Filet Mignon with ketchup, legitimately drinking the wine at a tasting session and mangling the French language so gruesomely that if it were a person it would need to be identified by its dental records. By and large, Paris takes the brunt of this influx, attracting up to 40 million visitors annually and giving the famously murderous Parisian motorists 40 million opportunities to collect a soft, fleshy new hood ornament at the city’s pedestrian crossings. For any survivors not brutally mown down or glared to death over their pronunciation of ‘croissant’, one final gauntlet remains, specifically attempting to avoid the attentions of Europe’s most over-zealous street mimes, a species so numerous and so insufferably, irredeemably French you’ll be left wondering if there’s been a breakout at the stereotype wing of the local prison.
French mime artists prepare to perform (literally) unspeakable acts on a hapless tourist.
As you’ve probably gathered by now, the French really are quite into themselves. In fairness, the country can justify some of this perceived arrogance thanks to its accelerated production of stellar names in fields such as philosophy, poetry and other lifestyles that don’t require them to be up and dressed before noon. Amongst these celebrated layabouts are Rene DesCartes (“I think therefore I am”), Jean-Paul Sartre (“Hell is other people”) and 16th century alleged prophet Nostradamus, whose cryptic and progressively garbled musings are held up by some as a foreshadowing of future events, including the rise of Hitler, the Kennedy assassination, 9/11 and, more than likely, an imminent diagnosis of early onset dementia.
Perhaps surprisingly for a nation for whom wartime tactics mostly consist of closing one’s eyes and hoping it all goes away, France also has an extensive list of celebrated military geniuses. Of course everyone knows about Napoleon Bonaparte, whether it be Europeans, who acknowledge his stunning victories at Austerlitz (1805) and Jena-Auerstadt (1806), or Americans, who know him principally as the French dude who ate all the ice cream in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989). Deserving of the same reverence, however are William the Conqueror, the last man to lead a successful invasion of Britain at the Battle of Hastings in 1066* following his opponent King Harold’s engagingly practical demonstration on the dangers of bows and arrows – “You’ll have somebody’s eye out with those things” – and also Joan of Arc (1412-1431), the tragically flammable peasant girl and bane of England’s existence during the Hundred Years War, so much so that upon capturing the errant little mademoiselle, the English sought to burn her as a witch, and when this didn’t fly in court, burned her as a bloody nuisance instead.
*Unless of course you’re a Daily Mail reader, in which case you’ll be convinced that a tidal wave of Muslim migrants will shortly be arriving in your street to sponge benefits, steal your job and take down all your Christmas decorations. Yep, any minute now.
The National Team
The trademark, curiously ineradicable French belief that they are simply better than everybody else does at least ring true when it comes to international football, as evidenced by the shiny hunk of FIFA commissioned gold which the team brought home with them from Moscow this past July. No real arguments, France fully deserved their World Cup triumph in Russia. Though they rarely took opposition teams to the cleaners, ‘Les Bleus’ always radiated a measure of control while giving the impression of having an extra gear or two to call upon whenever necessary. This was especially evident in their last 16 victory over Argentina, as France responded to falling 2-1 behind (the only time they would trail in any match) with three goals in 11 minutes. Likewise, the final itself saw Croatia put in a thoroughly decent display only to be picked off time and again by the clinical finishing of Griezmann, Mbappe and Pogba. Rather ominously, with an average age of just 26, France’s victorious squad were the second youngest in the competition and look to have plenty of tournament miles in them yet. Doesn’t look like that signature Gallic smugness will be going away any time soon.
Historically speaking, French success at international level is actually a relatively recent phenomenon. Indeed, in what should serve as a sobering statistic for everybody on this side of the Channel, France have reached six major tournament finals, all more recent than 1966. First, the brilliance of Michel Platini inspired Les Bleus to glory at their home euros in 1984, before the mercurial Zinedne Zidane stepped into the hero’s shoes between 1998-2000, winning France a maiden World Cup (also on home turf) and then adding a second European crown two years later in the Low Countries. Of course, being French and therefore equally predisposed to dabbling in the ridiculous, the team have also suffered the occasional hilarious meltdown, including the infamous player mutiny/strike at the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, a risible defence of their world title at the 2002 edition* and of course the 2006 final in Berlin, where Zidane’s forehead rashly developed a mad, passionate attraction to Marco Materazzi’s chest. Sacre bleu. At least they’re never boring.
*Despite it fast becoming a 21st century trend for defending world champions to be a bit pants (Italy 2010, Spain 2014, Germany 2018), France’s debacle in the Far East represents the biggest fall from grace, with the team – who were reigning world AND European champions lest we forget – finishing bottom of their group, winning just one point and failing to score a single goal.
The Shirt
Very pleased to have this particular design in my collection. For me, this represents THE iconic France shirt, seeing as it was worn by their first ever World Cup winners*, and belongs in the same league as the Dutch Euro 88 top, West Germany’s flag splattered Italia 90 kit and Denmark’s oddball half and half shirts from Mexico 86. From a monetary point of view, this shirt should prove quite valuable in the coming years. A quick skim through eBay reveals other examples priced up as high as £200, although Adidas have released an official retro version, which can be had for the somewhat less princely sum of £26.99. Picture below.
Technically, this remake could in some ways be considered a copy of a copy, thanks to the original 1998 shirts being based heavily on those worn by Platini’s Euro 84 winning squad.
Anyhow, I personally acquired this shirt shortly after France 98 (hence the gold World Cup winners star above the badge) and it remains one of my overall favourites. It’s bold without being overbearing, colourful without being garish and also brings back fond memories of a great World Cup tournament which I would sprint home from my GCSE exams in order to watch, quite possibly to the detriment of my grades. Worth it.
