The Greatest Game—and Play-by-Play Call—Of All Time
A legendary broadcaster was moved to tears by the World Cup Final
In America’s loudest profession, the sportscaster, there is a long history of silence. The bigger the moment, the unwritten rule goes, the less should be said. We’ve been trained that it’s always best to just let the roar of the crowd do the work.
Said the immortal Vin Scully: “Day to day, week in, week out. If something happens and the crowd roars, I shut up.”
Said Marv Albert: “It's amazing, when you don't talk, how good the natural sound is—the crowd, the noise from the field.”
Said Jim Nantz, discussing Tiger Woods’ 2019 Masters win: “There wasn’t a chance in the world that I was going to say anything…I never would have jumped on a moment that was that big. It was just so big. There was nothing you could do to add to it. You could only ruin it.”
When 25-year-old Gonzalo Montiel buried a penalty kick to seal a World Cup for Argentina and cap one of the greatest sporting events we have ever seen, if you were watching on Fox, you would have heard play-by-play man John Strong yell, “YES!” and then, as the Argentines erupted in celebration, as fans screamed, as Lionel Messi emerged from a dog pile to start making a literal victory lap around the stadium—you would have heard nothing but the roar of the crowd. Strong and his partner Stu Holden remained silent for over 90 seconds.
At the World Cup, FIFA provides one feed of the broadcast to every network airing the game across the world. As a result, every shot is the same no matter where you watch; you just get different announcers narrating. And so, by simply switching the channel, you can get a completely different experience of all those same images— the eruptions, the screams, the victory laps. If you were watching Telemundo instead of Fox, for example, rather than silence, Montiel’s penalty kick would have detonated an explosion of joy. You would have heard Andrés Cantor, a legend, scream like never before.
Those screams led to one of the greatest calls of all time—one that not only captured the magnitude of the moment but somehow, like the game itself, distilled all that’s powerful about sports.
“¡GOL!” Cantor said. “¡Gooooooooooooooool! ¡Argentina, campeón del mundo! ¡Argentina, campeón del mundo! ¡Argentina, campeón del mundo!” Each scream eventually devolved into tears.
Before Sunday, I knew Cantor as the “¡Gooooooool!” guy, someone who popped up once every four years in commercials and even on the Simpsons. I didn’t know that he was born in Buenos Aires, that he had immigrated to America as a teenager, that he was desperately homesick for those first few years. I didn’t know that he felt connected to his homeland through watching Argentine fútbol and that early in his career, while on the job, he cried when Diego Maradona scored his infamous “Hand of God” goal. I didn’t know that just one day prior to the World Cup final, Cantor told ESPN, “Every World Cup, every four years, the question gets asked, and I always say the same thing: ‘I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t tell you that I want Argentina to win this thing.’”
I didn’t need to know any of that, because I could hear it. I could hear the entirety of an American immigrant’s story in three simple words. I could hear the joy. I could hear the pride. I could hear the relief. It’s such a simple line, champions of the world!, but it says so much more than that.
The thing is, Scully, Albert, Nantz, and all the other American broadcasters who noted the importance of allowing the crowd’s reaction to tell the story of a moment aren’t wrong, actually. At least not exactly. A crowd’s reaction does tell the story better than a broadcaster ever could. But unlike those American announcers, Cantor allowed himself to become part of the crowd. He remained professional throughout the game, but he brought his own history and emotions with him into the booth. He was a human first—not some sort of detached observer—who allowed himself to be moved by the power of sport and the weight of the moment. In other words, he participated in the story rather than simply narrating it. He screamed for joy.
“¡Campeons del mundo!”
At long last.
A quick housekeeping note: We’ll be out next week celebrating the holiday. See you all back here on January 6! Have a wonderful, happy holiday and Happy New Year!
🎙️ ICYMI, Olympian Alexi Pappas joined David Greene on In the Moment this week, and discussed how making the Olympics was only the beginning of her story.
🇦🇷 A few more favorite memories from the World Cup final and the epic victory celebrations: these texts from Angel Di Maria predicting glory; this picture of Messi; this video of Buenos Aires the moment the game ended; this comparison of Messi’s game as a kid with the World Cup; this drone shot; this column.
🎿 Going skiing over the holidays? A few resorts are trying to democratize the mountain—a fascinating look at the future of the sport from the New York Times.
Great story, Joe. What a wonderful perspective on the game.