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[Odler]

It all happened 28 years ago. On JUNE 15, 1974.

It was 12:00 p.m. In the island republic of Haiti, the air was filled with pride and glory. The sun was bright, the air was dry. It was history in the making. Everyone was conscious of playing a part in a grander act.

It was D-day, the long awaiting day when Haiti, the second republic independent in the Americas, the first black independent democracy, was to demonstrate to the world that it had indeed generated ?a race of supermen? as per the words of Napoleon Bonaparte....

On that day, school children played hooky. Teachers got sore throats. Government workers had death in their families. Shopkeepers closed down for emergency repair. Everyone was home at less than three feet from a TV receptor or a transistor radio.

The tiny republic of Haiti had joined the restrictive club of the sixteen most envied and respected nations, the concert of the sixteen giants that would play the tenth World Cup finals. Haiti, on June 15, 1974, had to start against the finalists of the previous Cup, Italy?s destructive machine, la Squaddra Azzura.

Five millions hearts submerged in faith and resolve were convinced the team would make it to the final four. It was time to shine to the eyes of a stunned, flabbergasted universe. When for the first time, the Haitian national anthem, La Dessalinienne (the ?meringue?) filled the air at the Olympic Stadium in Munich, five million men and women let their tears roll over their cheeks onto their chests inside of which five million hearts were beating the emotional tam-tam of joy and hopefulness.

Then came the first Italian goal. The grand grandsons of the martyrs of the Independence War had seen worse. La Crete-a-Pierrot was more besieged. Vertieres was impregnable.

Two minutes after the pause, Manno Sanon escaped. One jump, one sprint, one dribble, and here he was, eyes in eyes, with the best goal keeper in the world, the magnificent Dino Zoff, a legendary vice-champion who had not conceded one single goal in the previous 17 international matches.

Manno did in force and finesse. The ball rocketed pass the bottom of the post, and bounced in the net. Astute! Crafty! Incredible! Goaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal! Goal! Goal! Goal! Goal! Haiti EXPLODED.

The only nation in the world founded by ex-slaves was up to a second conquest. They were falling Italy, the first of a long series, leading to the Cup.

The streets of Port-au-Prince were instantly invaded by a screaming, delirious crowd. Cars and trucks blew their horn, full blast. Taxi cabs refused fare from their riders. Police guards ran from their post, jumping in exultation. It was a moment of unforgettable collective folly. And the clamors got louder as the unique state-owned television station was playing the goal again, and again, and again. Goaaaaaaaaaaal!

It is of no consequence that Haiti lost the game 1-3, and finished the tournament 15th out of 16. This hour was among the finest in the history of the Caribbean island nation. It happened 28 years ago?

(OdlerRobert Jeanlouie, Friday, June 1, 2002)

from: http://www.jeanlouie.com/