In 1939, Matthias Sindelar was found dead in his Vienna apartment. Sindelar had embarrassed the Nazi authorities less than a year previous, celebrating his goal for an Austrian team against the German side a little too vigorously. He had refused to be a part of the Germany 1938 World Cup squad, which was eliminated in the first round. And he had been on a Gestapo watchlist. Question marks remain, but a blocked chimney was probably the culprit. It was a tragic, if less conspiratorial end to perhaps the greatest player of the 1930s, and his Wunderteam.
When Hugo Meisl took an Austrian team to the Netherlands in 1912, he was dazzled by the fast passing and movement introduced to the Dutch side by Englishman Jimmy Hogan, and determined to implement the style to defeat neighbours Hungary. The First World War delayed its development, but by the middle of the 1920s, Meisl was beginning to get results.
Sindelar made his debut in 1923 but, Meisl was concerned that he was too frail. What little newsreel footage remains of Sindelar demonstrates Meisl’s thinking. The Paper Man, as Sindelar would become known, was so slim that he looked like a stiff breeze could knock him down. What the newsreels also show, however, is that even a stiff breeze would have struggled to lay a finger on him, as he danced his way through defences.
The first sign that Austria were really on to something came in 1932, when they become only the third continental side to play England in England. They lost 4-3, which for the hosts confirmed that a physical style was superior to a technical one. But for Austria, it was a disappointment. Meisl explained a slow start cost them the chance to make history, but when other sides had visited England they had been utterly routed. Belgium were defeated 6-1 and 4-0, while Spain had lost 7-1. But for a slow opening 30 minutes, Austria might just have shocked the world.
Meisl shook off their defeat and started to put together a side to could compete at the 1934 World Cup. Alongside Sindelar were some of the very best pre-war footballers, Josef Bican (who scored 652 goals in just 419 club games) and Rudi Hiden, a goalkeeper so prominent that Herbert Chapman’s Arsenal tried to sign him, but were blocked by the FA from signing foreign players. Most were the wrong side of 30 going into the tournament, probably past their peak, but they had high hopes.
Their first match against France did not start well, and the Wunderteam were behind from a Jean Nicolas goal in just 18 minutes. Sindelar equalised before half time, but the Austrians were unable to find the breakthrough in normal time. It was lucky, then, when Toni Schall and then Bican took the game away from France in extra time, who scored a late consolation penalty but couldn’t force a replay.
The quarter final pitted Austria against their old rivals Hungary. The Hungarians had won 32 of their meetings to Austria’s 25, with 18 draws. But the Wunderteam hadn’t lost to their neighbours in four years. Johann Horvath opened the scoring early, finding the net on eight minutes, and Karl Zischek added a second just after half time. Hungary got back in it with a penalty, but couldn’t find the equaliser, and Austria moved on to the semi-finals.
Italy, another of the revolutionary 1930s sides, prepared differently for the game. Where Austria concentrated on their waltz, Vittorio Pozzo had his side focused on a blitz. Hard tackling and man marking was on the agenda, in front of a watching Benito Mussolini. The sides lined up on a San Siro pitch that more closely resembled a bog, and rain poured down.
The tone was set early on when Peter Platzer, in for the injured Hiden, collected a low cross. Except, when Giuseppe Meazza clattered into him, he spilled the ball to Enrique Guaita who turned it home. Despite the protests of the Austrian players, the goal stood. The rest of the game saw the Wunderteam playing at the dazzling best in search of an equaliser, but the brutal treatment of Sindelar in particular, and any player that threatened to find a goal, kept the score at 1-0, and the World Cup dream was over.
The side would never have another chance at a World Cup, with the German occupation seeing them forced to withdraw from the 1938 competition. Sindelar was a prominent opponent of Nazism and refused, point-blank, to join the unified team. Josef Bican switched his nationality to Czechoslovakia, but a paperwork mix-up meant that he also missed the tournament. And the Nazi “cleansing” of Austrian football, which had a strong Jewish heritage, would deprive Austria of a legacy to the Wunderteam.
It seems odd to claim that a side that didn’t win anything changed the game, but the Wunderteam demonstrated that a technical style was possible. After the Second World War it was Hungary who took up that baton, going one step further but also, ultimately, failing. But their influence led to the rise of Total Football, and then Tika-Taka. The progressive passing game we all crave just wouldn’t be the same without the Wundeteam.
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