Many people’s idea of the World Cup’s key moments would throw up the usual suspects: Diego Maradona’s goals against England in 1986, Zinedine Zidane’s headbutt on Marco Materazzi in the 2006 final, and the epic clash between Italy and Brazil in 1982. But there have been moments that do not immediately spring to mind, but have also left a legacy. Deputy sports editor Tan Yo-Hinn (yohinn [at] mediacorp.com.sg) looks at three of these and why they left such an impact.

WHY FINAL GROUP GAMES ARE PLAYED SIMULTANEOUSLY

The policy of having the last matches in each group at major tournaments such as the World Cup and European Championships being played simultaneously on the same day owes its origins to one of the most farcical incidents in sports, known as the “non-aggression pact of Gijon”.

Following a shock 2-1 win over then-European champions West Germany and a 3-2 victory over Chile either side of a 2-0 loss to Austria, Algeria seemed poised to progress from Group 2 and reach the next round of the 1982 World Cup in Spain.

The only way the North Africans could be eliminated was a one- or two-goal win for the West Germans over their old rivals Austria, who faced each other in their final group game in Gijon 24 hours after the Algeria-Chile match. And that was exactly what happened.

After Horst Hrubesch’s 11th minute strike put the West Germans 1-0 up, the next 79 minutes saw the two sides show virtually zero interest in adding to the scoreline, passing the ball backwards and sideways, with hardly any shots, tackles, crosses or sprints.

Pockets of Algerian fans at the match burned peseta notes to show their suspicions of corruption, while the Spanish crowd waved white handkerchiefs in a show of disdain.

West Germany eventually lost 3-1 to Italy in the final, but they and the Austrian team were denounced in their home countries.

Perhaps also with Argentina’s controversial 6-0 win over Peru in 1978 at Brazil’s expense in mind, FIFA ruled that the last two games in every group must henceforth be played simultaneously to minimise the possibility of results being corrupted.

“Our performances forced FIFA to make that change and that was even better than a victory,” Lakhdar Belloumi, who scored the winner against the West Germans, told The Guardian. “It meant that Algeria left an indelible mark on football history.”

POSSIBLY THE MOMENT ENDORSEMENT DEALS BEGAN TO SOAR

Today, we hardly bat an eyelid at the ever-increasing sums that the world’s top brands have to fork out to secure endorsement deals with football’s best players and teams.

Real Madrid’s Gareth Bale recently penned a six-year deal with adidas reportedly worth £20 million (S$42 million), while reports claim his Portuguese club colleague Cristiano Ronaldo could see his deal with Nike renewed to the tune of US$13.4 million (S$16.8 million) a year. Real Madrid’s deal with kit suppliers adidas is also reportedly worth €35.2 million (S$60.1 million) annually.

If there is one moment that could be regarded as the trigger point that began the seemingly one-way escalation of football endorsement deals, it would be at the 1970 World Cup in Mexico, one that involved adidas, Puma, Brazil’s three-time World Cup winner Pele and a plucky German journalist called Hans Henningsen.

Writer Barbara Smit, in her book Pitch Invasion: Adidas, Puma and the Making of Modern Sport, revealed that Horst and Armin Dassler — sons of adidas and Puma founders and brothers Adi and Rudolph Dassler, respectively — put their bitter family rivalry aside and agreed to ignore Pele, by far the biggest star at that time, when it came to endorsement deals in a bid to avoid the cost of personal endorsement deals sky-rocketing.

Perplexed at why nobody approached him, Pele sought a deal through Henningsen, who covered Brazil’s players extensively as a South America-based journalist, and who also represented Puma.

Deciding it was simply too absurd to miss an opportunity to sign Pele, Henningsen defied Armin Dassler’s orders and offered the Brazilian a US$25,000 deal to wear Puma boots at the 1970 World Cup and another US$100,000 to endorse the brand for the next four years.

Pele would also deliberately slowly tie his bootlaces just before the referee started each game at the 1970 World Cup, thereby ensuring television cameras would zoom in on him and millions would see his Puma boots in what would turn out to be an astute marketing move.

Naturally, Horst Dassler hit the roof and, in Smit’s words, “from then on, the gloves were off”.

HOW RED AND YELLOW CARDS CAME ABOUT

Often overshadowed by the two sides’ more famous encounter at the 1986 World Cup in Mexico, England’s controversial 1-0 win over Argentina in the quarter-finals 20 years earlier at Wembley Stadium may be known mainly for Antonio Rattin’s refusal to leave the pitch after being sent off.

But the match would kickstart a chain reaction that eventually led to the invention and introduction of the red and yellow card system in football that we now all take for granted.

After 25 minutes, Rattin was dismissed by West German referee Rudolf Kreitlein in one of the most bewildering decisions — the official apparently did not like how the Argentina captain looked at him. Rattin refused to leave and his request for a translator was declined. In a show of disgust, he sat on the red carpet reserved for the Queen. It took a personal plea from Ken Aston, the tournament’s refereeing chief, for Rattin to accept Kreitlein’s decision.

Newspaper reports later claimed Kreitlein had booked brothers Jack and Bobby Charlton, prompting then-England manager Alf Ramsey to seek clarification from FIFA.

The incidents caused Aston to devise a way of avoiding such confusion. And his eureka moment came at, of all places, a traffic junction in London. “As I drove down Kensington High Street, the traffic light turned red. I thought, ‘Yellow, take it easy; red, stop, you’re off’,” he said.

The concept of the yellow card as a warning and red card for a dismissal was accepted by FIFA and introduced at the 1970 World Cup in Mexico.