CUP VIEW FROM THE STREETS OF NEW YORK
By George Vecsey
The New York Times
May 31, 2006 Wednesday
Late Edition – Final
WE were having lunch outdoors the other day, the way one does on the
first warm afternoon in Lyon or Paris or New York, three cities where
Youri Djorkaeff has lived.
A stocky Argentine man, dining a few tables away, did a double take
when he spotted the alert dark features of the patron at the corner
table.
“It’s like talking to God,” the Argentine man sputtered in English,
as Djorkaeff accepted a hug and posed for a photo. “I know Maradona,”
the stranger continued. “He used to come to my house when he was
hiding out. Who do you think will win the World Cup this year? You
think my country has a chance?”
This question is being asked in 32 nations around the world this
week. Djorkaeff replied that Argentina and Italy are always good,
but in the end Brazil has so much talent.
“It’s like an exact science,” Djorkaeff said. “The same three, always,
and maybe France or England or Germany.” Reluctantly but civilly,
the Argentine man went back to his lunch, letting Djorkaeff get back
to his seafood salad and rose.
In 1998, in the World Cup final won by France, Youri Djorkaeff aimed a
corner kick toward the talented scalp of Zinedine Zidane, who headed
in a goal against Brazil. Now playing for the New York Red Bulls of
Major League Soccer, Djorkaeff, like billions of other people, is
preparing to watch the world’s most popular sports event next month,
on the tube from Germany.
“This will be my first World Cup,” Djorkaeff said the other day.
“I will sit on the sofa and watch, like a good fan. I am checking
the web to get all the information on the French team.”
Djorkaeff and his wife and three children are living in the Gramercy
Park section of Manhattan. As a proud Frenchman of Armenian and
Kalmuk ancestry, Djorkaeff is a little disappointed there is not
more of an Armenian presence in New York, but he loves the long
and mostly anonymous walks around this city. He also does not mind
being lionized at French places like Frederick’s Lounge at Madison
and East 65th Street, where he is one more sporting prince of this
international city where soccer is a thriving daily presence.
He was born to the spotlight, since his father, Jean, was captain of
France in the 1966 World Cup in England. When Djorkaeff was a child,
he played with a fuzzy replica of World Cup Willie, the mascot of
the English cup.
He became a star for Inter Milan, living close to the fabled Duomo.
(“Milan is an amazing city, but a lot of it is hidden. You open
a door, and there are these amazing courtyards and gardens.”) He
joined the French national squad after the breakup of the beautiful
underachieving team of the 1980’s.
In the sunlight on Madison Avenue, Djorkaeff pointed to goose bumps
on his arms as he recalled how the charismatic, multicultural French
team rolled toward the 1998 Cup.
“Half of us played in Italy,” Djorkaeff said, recalling those heady
days a decade ago, when Italy had the best league in the world. He
still marvels at how the French coach, Aime Jacquet, confided in 1997
that “everything is ready” to win the World Cup. Djorkaeff thought
Jacquet had gone mad, “Coach, are you O.K.?”
Exactly eight years ago, Jacquet assembled 23 superb individuals at a
rural camp. “Those little games in training, six men on a side, were
fantastic,” Djorkaeff recalled. “You ran a drill, the ball never went
out. But it’s not just you. It’s the other team. Your whole group. I
never saw soccer like this. On our team, if anything went wrong,
Jacquet had two or three solutions. Everybody was together.”
After the 3-0 victory over Brazil for the championship, Jacquet gave
the players two options: Celebrate in the City of Lights or go back
to the training base with their wives — “the last time we would all
be together,” Djorkaeff said in a hushed voice. The players chose
to go back to the chateau, while millions of fans celebrated along
the Champs-Elysees.
In 2002 in South Korea, Djorkaeff and his mates were older, more
brittle, and did not make it out of the first round. “It is harder
when you are champion,” Djorkaeff said. He retired from the national
team, and last season he chose to play in M.L.S. for the experience
of living in Manhattan.
“If you think about football in Italy or France, you would go home
in a week,” he said, respectfully, “but I am at a point where I want
to help build something here.”
He is busy on the phone these days, plugging his new book, “Snake”
— the English nickname by which he is known in France — written
with Arnaud Ramsay, and published only in French by Grasset.
The American league will soldier on during the World Cup, with the Red
Bulls playing a game the same day, June 17, the United States plays
Italy. Still Djorkaeff is marking off all the games he can possibly
catch. He has helped win a World Cup. Now it is time to watch one.