World Cup picture cards

Back in 1978, I used to collect these. The World Cup was on in Argentina at the time. The nation's interest was heightened by the fact that Scotland were there, England, Wales and Ireland North and South all having failed to qualify, the United Kingdom truly did unite behind "Ally's Army". It looked good at first. Scotland were drawn in a group with Peru, Iran, and Holland. Even those unfamiliar with international football in the late Seventies, might not be surprised to learn that Iran were not considered much of a threat to anyone. Peru weren't supposed to be very good either. Holland were mighty opponents, these being the days of Johann Cryuff, a sort of Dutch version of Pele or George Best.

But hopes were high that we, and "we" were suddenly all Scottish, could win the first two games and that would be enough to carry us through, regardless of the result of the Holland game.

Meanwhile, I ate as many packets of "All Stars" as my pocket money would allow. All Stars were a sort of corn snack crisp created by Golden Wonder specifically for the World Cup. They were a bit like those Space Invader crisps you get now. They stick to your teeth and only come in pickled onion flavour, so it's a good thing I was too young to be trying to kiss girls at the time. The real attraction of All Stars was that they had World Cup picture cards. You got one in each packet, and there were thirty or so to collect. I don't know if this was a nationwide thing, but at my primary school they certainly caused a veritable firestorm of frenzied corn snack consumption. Shares in Golden Wonder must have gone through the roof, as every ten year old boy, vaguely reeking of pickled onion, bought All Stars every time they were in possession of five pence, and a ruthless and frantic bartering system blossomed.

"I'll give you six Roberto Bettigas for one Zico." (pictured)

"No way! Everyone's got more Bettigas than they know what to do with. He's almost as common as Archie Gemmell."

Archie Gemmell was the most common card. At one point I could have wallpapered my bedroom in Archie Gemmells. Of course, Golden Wonder were obviously exploiting our childish enthusiasm. They were holding back on a few cards. Notably, the Brazilian maestro, Rivelino. Now, the sensible thing to do would have been to build up your collection for a while, and then, when you got your fiftieth Bettiga and your ten thousandth Archie Gemmell, stop buying All Stars for a while, until Golden Wonder started playing fast and loose with the Rivelinos.

Over in Argentina, events were not unfolding according to plan for Scotland.

In their opening game they got beaten by Peru. This was a disaster, as it meant that even after the foregone conclusion of beating Iran, they would have to at least draw with Holland to have a chance to progress to the knock out stage.

Then a surprising thing happened. Golden Wonder, sensing the atmosphere of disillusionment, released a few Rivelinos onto the market. Tommy Boyd got one. He showed me it.

"What shop did you get it in?"

He wouldn't even tell me.

Sales suddenly soared like never before. The classroom stank of pickled onion, and people resorted to offering to trade Subbuteo teams, Scalectrix sets and Evil Knevil stunt bikes for a Rivelino card.

It was like a ten year old version of the .com bubble.

In the midst of this, the unthinkable happened. Iran drew with Scotland, effectively making it impossible for Ally's Army to go through.

The English started refering to Scotland as "Scotland" again, instead of "us" and huge stockpiles of Archie Gemmell cards were ceremoniously burnt in massive bonfires of shameful disgust. God knows there were enough of them.

Then something strange happened. I bought a packet of All Stars. And there it was. A Riveleno.

That night, Scotland were playing their meaningless game against Holland. I looked at my now complete collection of World Cup picture cards, and thought how futile, how pointless it all now seemed.

Then a really fantastic thing happened.

Archie Gemmell, the last footballer who ever tried to fool everyone that he had a full head of hair by employing a comb-over, the most common card in the collection, that you couldn't swap for anything, skipped through probably the best defensive team in the world at the time, as if he was playing against a team of primary school children, and aimed in what is arguably the best goal ever scored in the history of football.

For those of you too young to remember it, it is honoured in a scene from the movie "Trainspotting".

But to see it at the time was pure joy.

Archie was like William Wallace. It didn't matter that Scotland were out. They had won, even though they had lost.

I wish I still had one of those Archie Gemmell cards. It would mean more to me than a hundred Rivelinos.

A funny thing is, when I went to art college in Liverpool, in 1991, my tutor, a man by the name of Doug Harker, showed us a portfolio of his illustration work. In among it was a series of World Cup picture cards he had been commissioned to do for Golden Wonder in 1978.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nB0nFze1Fdw