When Antonín Panenka stepped up to take his penalty in the 1976 European Championship final shootout against West Germany, few of the 30,790 fans in attendance would have known they were about to see one of the game’s most famous spot-kicks of all time.
With Uli Hoeness having just missed his penalty, Panenka was handed the opportunity to win the tournament and duly delivered with an audaciously chipped spot-kick that has gone down in football lexicon.
More than 50 years on, Panenka has reflected with FourFourTwo on the political backdrop to the final, the pressure he faced and the confidence he had to attempt one of the boldest penalties the game has ever seen.
Panenka on his iconic penalty
“The 1976 European Championship took place in Yugoslavia, with four teams – West Germany and the Netherlands from Western Europe, Yugoslavia and ourselves from the East,” Panenka recalls. “The 1970s was a politically tense period and, on that occasion, the two political blocs were facing each other on the pitch. We beat the Netherlands in the semi-finals, and West Germany defeated Yugoslavia.
“In the final in Belgrade, we felt like outsiders because the Germans were reigning world and European champions. On paper, they were stronger. That said, we certainly didn’t feel weak – we had nothing to lose.”
Prior to the game, the West Germany squad were keen to avoid the possibility of a replay, meaning they put in an unusual request which ultimately set the scene for Panenka’s moment of triumph.
“Before the match, something curious happened, with direct consequences on the final result,” the 77-year-old continues. “I believe it came from some German players wanting to go on holiday as soon as possible – before kick-off, we were asked whether we’d agree to move on to penalties in the event of a draw, instead of replaying the game. Naturally, we accepted, because nobody was enthusiastic about facing Germany twice, and in the end we made the right decision.
“The match finished 2-2 and, after a series of penalties that were successfully converted, Uli Hoeness blasted his over the bar. At that point, it was my turn to take the decisive penalty, to win us our first major international trophy. I felt surprisingly calm. Months before, I’d already decided that if I had to take a penalty, I’d do it my way, with a chip. I’d done it many times in the league and never missed, but footage of our matches never reached Western Europe, so nobody knew how I took penalties.
“I was confident because I’d practised endlessly from the spot with Bohemians. After training, the keeper and I used to bet a chocolate bar or a beer on penalty shootouts. He was very good, and at first he saved many of them, until I started using my little chip down the middle. From then on, there was no contest any more – because I kept winning, I even started putting on a little weight!
“Of course, had I missed my penalty in the European Championship final in that fashion, I would have made both my country and the Communist Party look ridiculous, and they probably would have forced me to work in a factory, or even down a mine for the next 50 years. But I knew that it was the right thing to do in that moment.
“I remember discussing it at the camp with my room-mate Koloman Gogh, telling him that if I got the chance, I’d definitely do it. He almost lost his mind and told me that if I tried it, he wouldn’t let me back into our room afterwards. The story spread. Even goalkeeper Ivo Viktor disagreed with me, but my other team-mates and our coach Vaclav Jezek told me to do whatever felt right. Well, I stepped up and did it. Sepp Maier dived to his left and the ball floated gently, just as I knew it would, into the centre of the net, slowly and mockingly.
“There were multiple consequences. First of all, we won the European Championship, which remains the only major title our national team has ever won. Then Koloman stayed true to his word and wouldn’t let me back into our room to sleep! Fortunately, two friends from my hometown, who’d emigrated to Canada and become fairly wealthy, had bought tickets for the final, as well as a room in a beautiful hotel in the city centre. I ended up sleeping there – the next morning, I woke up and had breakfast with champagne and caviar for the first and only time in my life!
“The night beforehand, I was the only player still wearing our national team shirt during the trophy ceremony. My team-mates had already swapped shirts with the Germans – I hadn’t even thought about that, completely overwhelmed by the joy of that victory and the way it happened. Purely by chance, I became a hero back home, not only from a footballing perspective, but politically as well, as an example of devotion to my country and its colours. Later, an audio recording even surfaced of our country’s president asking who’d actually won the trophy, given that the podium seemed almost exclusively full of West Germany shirts!”
