Israel's Favorite Team

A rainy day in Tel Aviv

"In Israel, Johan Cruyff was regarded as the man who saved Anne Frank."

- Saggie Cohen, Israeli football analyst
and doctor in philosophy

'Weird guys, those Israelis', was the common impression in Holland, after Ajax had drawn against Hapoel Haifa for the UEFA Cup. The Hapoel chairman called the clash 'a Jewish derby' and Ajax 'our brothers from Amsterdam'.

The Dutch press quoted Evi Shvidler, journalist with Israeli newspaper Ha'aretz, who called Ajax 'probably the world's most Jewish club and beyond any doubt Israel's favorite team'. In every article, Ajacieden such as Wim Schoevaart en Evert Vermeer were - of course - presented shaking 'no'.

In Haifa, Ajax beat Hapoel 0-3, in its best game of that season. I visited the second leg in the ArenA with Philippe, a Jewish friend of mine. A huge man, with a Star of David Ajax flag wrapped around his neck, was peeing against the outside stadium fence. "Je-ews!" he yelled.

Inside the stadium: lots of flags with Stars of David, and lines such as: 'Lochem Boys greet Ajax', 'Vrouwenpolder greets Ajax' and 'Leerdam'. No such thing as a Star of David with 'Waterlooplein greets Ajax', or Buitenveldert, or Amsterdam-South.

Ajax is playing badly tonight. "We've got more corner kicks than Ajax!" says a man with big ears, in front of me. Early in the second half, Hapoel defender Ran Ben-Shimon passes towards Ofer Talker, who gets fouled inside the penalty box. Penalty: 0-1. The man in front of me sits there with a beaming face. His friends stand up and shout: "He's one! He's a Jew! Right here!"

Hapoel is rewarded a second penalty, which they miss. Their play gets better and better. And slowly there's something happening inside the stadium which I've never witnessed before: the crowd starts supporting the opponents. "Ole! Ole!" the ArenA yells every time Hapoel passes the ball. "Je-ews! Je-ews!" yells the F-Side. After the final whistle, they give Hapoel an ovation.

After having been stuck in a traffic jam on the parking lot for almost an hour, Philippe drives me back into town with his sports car. As we drive into a narrow street, we are facing another driver. We're stuck, but he refuses to drive a few metres back. Philippe ends up driving fifty metres backwards. "What an asshole", says Philippe, "he's got such a typical Dutch mug."

As I visit Haifa three months after the game, it almost looks like Amsterdam. The first snow in ages is falling in Jerusalem today, and here, on the Mediterranean coast, rain is pouring down. In Haifa's club room, where an Ajax pennant hangs on the wall, I am offered hummus and salad.

After that I slip on the floor and make a thud on the ground as if I were Rudi Völler. Some drops of rain had fallen on the tiles.

In a little cabin, downstairs, sits Hapoel coach Eli Gutman, who looks like the colonel of some Israeli army regiment. He says, severely: "We were happy after the game: firstly because we won, and secondly because we knew that Ajax reached the next round and not some other club. If I see all those Israeli flags at Ajax games, warmth fills my heart."

Must have been the first time for Hapoel to receive an ovation abroad? I ask. "No. That also happened at Besiktas, in Istanbul, Turkey." The only time Gutman ever saw a swastika on the stands, was in Valencia, Spain. Apart from that: no problems.

Gutman is a huge fan of Dutch football anyway. He received a week of coaching education in Barcelona in 1994. Each day, he got to talk to Johan Cruyff for ten to fifteen minutes. Barcelona beat Manchester United 4-0 that week and the two men talked about football a lot. "But", says Gutman, "he asked me things about Israel, too. About religion, about Jerusalem and whether there was still a war going on in Israel. I felt a lot of sympathy."

Gutman handed over a letter from the Jewish National Fund, in which he was requested to speak at a fund canvassing night in Spain. Cruyff reacted moderately positive.

Upstairs, in the canteen, the Hapoel players are having their lunch and I get to eat again. I'm seated at the table of Ben-Shimon and Talker. A game of chess is being played at the table next to us. The long-haired Croatian Giovanni Rosso is reading the paper, presumably in search for articles about himself. Rosso, a women's idol in Israel, is fluent in Hebrew and according to the Israelis, he never wants to leave again.

Ben-Shimon, sweeper of the Israel national team, reads books and is a vegetarian - no chicken on his plate. The first thing he says is that he loves Amsterdam. He's been there about five times. "I go for the streets of Amsterdam and the things you find there, as a tourist", he says grinning.

Like the rest of Israel, he was delighted as Ajax came out of the draw as their opponent. Talker, an Indian Jew who, according to the Israelis, resembles Aron Winter, says: "Of course. It used to be the Jewish club."

"The chairman is a Jew, isn't he?" asks a team mate with a beard. "Half Jewish", I say. "Well, half Jewish, that's enough." Talker thinks Aron Winter is a Jew.

Ben-Shimon: "We know, from the history of our people, that the people in Holland helped us in the time of the Holocaust. I cried when they lost the 1978 World Cup final. It's history."

"History, mishtory", shouts the bearded player.

Ben-Shimon: "I remember everything about Euro 1988! I remember all eleven of them, even Van Tiggelen, the minor names. I've still got the video, and if I feel sad, I watch it."

Did they visit Anne Frank's House in Amsterdam?

"Was she there, too?" asks Talker.

Ben-Shimon: "I've been there as a tourist. Not with the team. You know, football players like shopping."

And what about the game in the ArenA?

Ben-Shimon: "The most fantastic experience in my career. I did something I had never done before in my entire life: I took off my shirt and threw it to the Ajax crowd. I remember this one thing - it's on the hard disc in my head and I don't hink it'll ever get erased. A day before the match, you walk up the stairs after the training in the ArenA, and suddenly you're standing in the Ajax Hall Of Fame. All those great players. If you're a football player and football is your whole life, such a thing touches you. You feel: now I've accomplished my ambitions. I wanted to get somewhere - and that was this place."

Oh, they say, here's a funny story about Ajax' visit to Israel. Brian Laudrup's neece is apparently working in a kibbutz over here. The two were introduced to each other with a lot of ballyhoo. Ben-Shimon: "It was a really nice young woman." Talker: "Big, big headlines." Then Ben-Shimon decides to go watch the chess game.

In Israel you're nobody if you haven't got a sticker on the back of your car. Most cars have got stickers with political slogans on them, such as: 'We're never giving up the Golan!' or 'Prime minister Barak piss off!' My friend Shaul, an Israeli journalist, chose for something neutral: his sticker says 'Ajax'.

He drives me to the game between Hapoel Petach Tikva and Maccabi Haifa, just outside Tel Aviv. "Israelis are without a doubt the worst drivers in the world", he says proudly and while were driving he talks about Dutch football. Shaul, too, sometimes watches the video of 'that game' from 1988.

I always feel like asking: which game you mean, Shaul? Shaul hates Germans.

He only supports them if they play Maccabi Tel Aviv. A friend of his has got the same thing: as he visited Amsterdam, he payed a prostitute for wearing a Maccabi Tel Aviv scarf and let him hit her.

In front of the concrete Petach Tikva stadium, people are begging to be allowed entrance. The home team, according to Shaul, has got about fifty fans, all members of the Luzon family owning the club. Maccabi Haifa, however, is a top club. The stands are filled with Maccabi fans, dressed in green. As the speaker reads the line-up of Maccabi-players, the fans cheer.

Every name from the home team's line-up is followed by a certain word. "Maniak", explains Shaul. "It's sexual , it has many meanings, it's perfect for football."

Israeli fans are harsh, he says. They whistle during the national anthem of every country visiting Israel. In a preview about Israel versus Austria, Shaul wrote: 'Austria, finally a country that deserves our whistling during their national anthem'. The Israeli were happy with their 5-0 victory over the 'Nazi's' (apparently, a Hebrew equivalent for 'Austrians').

Today there's a boy in the Maccabi Haifa line-up about whom people say he'll be as good as Johan Cruyff. Teenager Yossi Ben-Ayon already plays for the Israel team and played for the Ajax youth. It's a dramatic story.

Ben-Ayon came from a small town called Dimona, in the Negev Desert and he was afraid to go to Amsterdam. Therefore, his family and best friend moved with him.

They hated Amsterdam. Tomatoes were bad and expensive at Albert Cuyp Market, stated Ben-Ayon's mother, almost crying, in a television show which became famous. "And they don't have any coriander over here!" After a major family argument, some of the Ben-Ayons returned to the Negev.

Shaul interviewed Ben-Ayon in his house in Diemen.

"Have you got dreams?" asked Shaul.

Ben-Ayon looked at him, not understanding.

"Scoring during your Ajax debut, like Cruyff, Van Basten or Bergkamp?"

"No", said Ben-Ayon.

Every club in Europe is after him now, including Ajax and Juventus. But against Hapoel Petach Tikva, Ben-Ayon demonstrates practically nothing, except one marvellous action: he makes a 180 degree turn, after which he slips past his defender in one fluent movement, by playing the ball through his legs.

Hearing people say that Holland was 'good' during the war, is a daily thing for me in Israël. In Tel Aviv I'm grabbing a bite with my friend Oren, who tells me that a lot of Dutchmen wear Star of David-shaped pins. Tel Aviv is a city for young people. Israël's Amsterdam. I'm drinking Turkish coffee with TV reporter Itai Anghel, in a bar opposite the spot where Yitzhak Rabin was shot. Other Israelis told me I couldn't possibly miss Anghel, because he's incredibly tall: 1.85 metres! (approximately 6'2")

This bar could have been located in Greenwich Village or SoHo, and even though it's Friday around five o'clock, people do not seem to wannna go home and do nothing. Anghel, international news chief editor of his TV station, is a man of the world.

This man - in his thirties, motor helmet on his lap - has even filmed a TV item about the Jewish aspects of Ajax, although it was a pity that the football footage in the report only showed PSV...

Maybe Anghel can tell me why people keep tellig me that Holland was 'good' during the war. Anghel stares at me as if I'm a complete idiot. It's because, he explains, Holland was good during the war. At the beginning of the German occupation, the Dutch ignored the fate of the Jews, but they changed their minds later. That's what he was taught at school.

"When did they change their minds then?" I ask.

Anghel doesn't know exactly.

"The February Strike of 1941?" I'm trying to help him.

The only thing he knows is that the Dutch were good. Anghel says that I should understand that Israelis don't expect that much from other countries.

The large part of Europe helped enthusiastically during the Holocaust. In Kosovo, where he went not long ago, an Albanian SS unit went from door to door with German troops, so they could tell which families were Jewish.

"That happened in Holland, too, more or less", I say. It doesn't come across.

The Israelis are right: the Dutch were good during the war. During the war of 1973, that is. As the Arabs attacked Israel on Yom Kippur, the country battled for its existence, but only two countries supported them unconditionally: the United States and The Netherlands. The Arabs took their revenge by starting an oil boycott, and Holland was forced to impose a 'car free Sunday' on its inhabitants.

After 1973 came 1974, including the World Cup tournament that made an indelible impression in Israel. A lot of Israelis can still rattle off the comedy sketch from 1975, about referee Pendelovitch (pendel = 'penalty').

A hooligan, who insulted Pendelovitch from the stands, is standing in court, but the judge turns out to be a hooligan himself, who insulted Pendelovitch as well. The lawsuit slowly turns into a discussion about the Oranje line-up of 1974. "Rep, Rep! No, De Jong, De Jong!" A lot of Israelis still know that line by heart.

In another bar in downtown Tel Aviv, I am supposed to meet Saggie Cohen, but I can't find him at first. Cohen is a football analyst for the Israeli TV, so I'm looking for a decent, rich man - an Israeli Alan Hansen type of guy.

Then, a small, chubby, bold man accosts me - more of an Israeli Winston Churchill type of guy. He's a football analyst, but also a Doctor in Philosophy at Cambridge University, and everything he says is interesting. A lot of things sort of merged in Holland, he says: Anne Frank (which is the only thing Israeli kids are being taught at school), the Dutch prime minister who decided to bike to work as a pro Israel statement, Johan Cruyff - they all became one equal thing for the Israelis.

Johan Cruyff's Holland actually triumphed by losing the 1974 WC final against Germany, says Cohen: "The Dutch lost to the Germans in the case of Anne Frank, too. But in both cases, they were morally superior. The Dutch football elite-unit has sort of taken over our task against the Germans."

"As Rijkaard spit Rudi Völler in the face, he did that for us. One of my best friends got married on that night, but we didn't go, we watched TV.

After that, we went to the party. Apparently, a lot of other people missed the actual wedding as well."

Israel's love for Holland, according to Cohen, has got a lot to do with the following things: the blond girls who worked in Jewish kibbutz in the 1970s, and the city of Amsterdam, which was discovered by a lot of Israelis in those days. "You've got water, we don't. You've got civil rights, we don't. You've got nicer buildings than us. The first Dutchman for us to meet in person was Johan Cruyff. And you know: nobody forgets his first love."

Do the Israelis think Cruyff is Jewish?

"Johan Cruyff is considered an 'Israeli of Honour'. If Cruyff would start a political party over here, he would definitely win two or three seats in the Knesset. Cruyff writes Hebrew, did you know that? During major tournaments, he sometimes contributes a column in one of Israel's major newspapers. Sometimes it says at the bottom: 'especially written for Israel'."

I tell about Cruyff's Jewish family.

"In that case, he's a Jew. We've got a myth here, that says Jews are at the spearhead of every cultural movement: we had Moses, Jesus, Freud and Einstein, so if something with a similar touch of genius happens in football, there must be a Jew responsible for it."

Do the Israelis think Ajacieden are Jewish? Verlaat, Laudrup. Babangida?

Cohen: "No, no. We don't think they're Jewish. But we do award them that quality. We know exactly who they are, but we divide people in two categories: the ones who are with us and the ones who are against us. And we follow them.

"We follow Kluivert, and hope he doesn't get sent to jail, we follow Davids, and hope his eye surgery will be successful. Eveybody who's against the Germans, is a 'good Jew', and therefore the Dutch are considered 'Jews of Honour'. Ajax are the good guys, even though they're not the most popular team in Israel."

Cohen's TV station did a survey on that. Manchester United was number one, then Liverpool, Arsenal, Barcelona (Holland, Cruyff, anti-Real, anti-Franco, and therefore anti-Hitler) and then, fifth, Ajax. A lot of Israelis even support Bayern Munich, says Cohen.

Bayern Munich?!

"I've experienced it inside my own house. The way they lost the Champions League final of 1998, in the last minute, with Kuffour to blame for the goal: they became human. This year, my wife hopes they win the Champions League. My wife!"

"But isn't it just impossible to support Bayern?" I ask.

"One thing: if no-one likes German football, some people will show up, saying: 'Oh, but I like German football. It's exciting, it's good!'"

"I like German football. It's interesting", says Eyal Gertman, a sports historian at Israel University. Gertman, who's sometimes called 'The Nazi' by his friends, does not understand why the Israelis hate the Germans so much. He even tries to explain it in academic articles.

Is he really not getting it? Well, okay, he does understand, but he thinks it's ridiculous. Isn't it absurd that public opinion polls showed that Israelis hate Germans more than they hate Iranians or Russians? And the weirdest thing is that Germany is more and more hated: the polls demonstrate a 'regression' of some 10% since 1990.

During the European Championship of 1996, an Israeli newspaper came up with this headline: 'Auschwitz, Wembley and Treblinka: we won't forget you!' Another newspaper printed a cartoon of German players masturbating while watching a picture of Eva Braun. Unbelievable, thinks Gertman. And everybody supports Holland! Well, he thinks the ranking of favorite national teams in Israel is like this: 1. Brazil, 2. Holland, last: Germany, last-but-one: Germany.

Gertman understands that Holland is sympathetic ('nice chicks, nice cheese, nice football'), but you can't support a country just because it liked Jews, can you? It's confusing, by the way, that Gertman, like many Israelis, sometimes says Germans or Deutschland (German for 'Germany'), while he means 'Holland'.

He says: "The only countries to have helped the Jews were Denmark and Bulgaria. That's it."

Saggie Cohen agrees. "With a correct historical notion, we would have supported Denmark and Norway in football. And, of course, England."

But in the preliminary rounds for Euro 2000, as the first notes of the Danish national anthem were played in Ramat Gan Stadium, the Israeli crowd started whistling. People stood up on the stands right away, shouting: 'Sssssshhh! Not with the Danes!' The whistling stopped. But still: the way the Israelis feel about Holland, they do not feel about Denmark.

For most Israelis, world history consists of a number of periods: the Biblical Period (Holland was not involved), the Holocaust (Anne Frank), the birth of the state of Israel (Holland voted for that), the 1967 and 1973 wars ('car free Sundays' in Holland) and, in foreign social history, the football World Cup (Johan Cruyff).

But the biggest saga, the most important story, is the Holocaust.

Almost everyone was against the Jews back then, but it would be unbearable to think that the Jews didn't have any friends at all. Okay, Denmark and, to a lesser extent, Bulgaria were their friends, but what the heck are Denmark and Bulgaria? Countries you don't hear a thing about. Holland is bigger, more famous (Anne Frank, Johan Cruyff, Rembrandt, erm, and so on...) but does have something in common with Israel: it's small size.

Most Israelis know other countries as they were in 1939-1945. The only thing that counts, is the way they regard Jews. Austria and Germany were bad in the war, so they probably always were. Holland saved Anne Frank - well, nearly - so it probably always was good. Israel has always been the Jewish nation - five thousand years ago, a hundred years ago and this year, too - and Holland has always been Israel's friend. Adolescents sometimes make up a friend inside their minds; the Israelis made the Dutch their friends.

The Dutch embassy in Tel Aviv knows that the Israeli myth is not correct, and they don't want to underscore it. But starting to tell about yourself that you were actually pretty mediocre and cowardish during the war... - well, no. Queen Beatrix said, speaking in the Knesset, on 28 March, 1995:

"We know that many of our fellow-countrymen put up courageous - and sometimes succesful - resistance, and often, exposing themselves to mortal danger, stood by their threatened fellow men. During our visit to Yad Vashem yesterday we saw their names too among those remembered forever under the trees planted there."

She continued: "But we also know that they were the exceptional ones and that the people of The Netherlands could not prevent the destruction of their Jewish fellow-citizens."

This was, perhaps, an attempt to contradict the myth. But the Knesset probably thought: 'Those Dutch! They're modest, too!' Beatrix received an ovation. But most Dutchmen did not try to 'prevent the destruction of their Jewish fellow-citizens' at all.

There's a discussion going on, at the moment, in Israel's quality press, about the Dutch role during the war. Reports by the commissions Van Kemenade and Dolman suggest that Holland, in fact, was not that good to the Jews. On 31 January 2000, a chief-editorial article in the Jerusalem Post said:

"The Netherlands still seem to be trying to avoid a full moral grappling with a past that is in odds with its reputation of resistance to Nazi barbarism."

The average Israeli, however, knows that such can't be true. The yells by Feyenoord fans ('Hamas, Hamas, get all the Jews gassed!') are not known here, either.

A German SS veteran speaking to a hundred skinheads in a shed near Braunschweig, becomes the evidence to the Israelis for Germany building a 'Fourth Reich'. In the same way, there's always evidence from Holland demonstrating the goodness of the Dutch. During the Gulf War, Israel got Patriot Rockets from Holland - and they were installed by Dutch soldiers.

The rockets were not used, but anyway. During his Ajax period, Frank Rijkaard went to the beaches of Eilat, sometimes. A Ronald de Boer quote was printed on a full page by newspaper Jediot Achronot:

"My father-in-law is called Cohen and his father-in-law is called Polak. There must be some bond between me and Israël then, mustn't there?"

People in Israël like that sort of stuff. An Israeli who ended up amongst loads of Stars of David, on the Ajax stands, told me he thought he was dreaming. Lennart Speijer, a Jewish football player in Israel with Dutch roots, says that the three months he played in Patrick Kluivert's Ajax youth team at Ajax, at the age of fourteen, have become legendary. If he's on TV and gives a decent pass, the reporter often says: 'Speijer, who used to play for Ajax...'.

On that rainy day in Haifa, I get to talk to Shmu'el Hacohen, who's fighting against the Dutch myth.

"Oh well", he says, "so what do people really know about a foreign country? Just a few facts."

He once asked a taxi driver: "Sir, what do you know about the Dutch Jews?"

"To be honest", the driver said, "I only know the black players from Holland."

As I call Abraham Klein on the phone, he tells me I'm lucky to find him at home. The only reason he's there, is because there's tennis on TV. Pete Sampras. Since his wife died, a year ago, he's almost never at home.

On the night of my rainy day in Haifa he opens the door. His hair turned grey, but he seems spry, wearing his FIFA training suit and his University of Nevada sweater. In the hall of his house are his souvenirs: the official game ball of England - Brazil (1970), the ball of Italy - Brazil (1982) and a Vitesse Arnhem pennant.

Klein shows me the way upstairs, silent, with his back straight, as if I'm a football team walking out of the stadium tunnel. He serves me tea and cognac, tells me Agassi won the semi final, and offers me a chair at the kitchen table, in a room decorated with football souvenirs: a clock from a Holland vs Cyprus under 16 game, a toiletry bag of the Scottish Football Association.

Klein hands me a selection of visiting-cards, on each of which he's photographed with a different player: Rummenigge, Zoff, Carlos Alberto, Bobby Moore.

This man used to be the world's most respected referee, but the 1978 World Cup final was taken away from him. According to rumours, the Argentines didn't dig him, because Holland and Israel were friends. Klein got the game for the third spot. Italian referee Gonella, who would shamelessly favour Argentina throughout the game, allowed Argentina to destroy the limbs of the Dutch even more disgracefully than the other way round.

After the game, the Dutch players said that Argentina was the only country on the planet in which this team could have won the World Cup.

Before I can even ask a question, Klein shows me a scrap-book, which someone made him during the tournament. Some quotes: 'Diesmal kein Heimschiedsrichter' (German headline: 'No home-favouring ref this time').

"Abraham Klein from Israel, who was unwaveringly insistent on applying the laws as they were written - with the resultant hail of abuse from the home country, when they lost, and widespread acclaim in Europe. Ironically, his brave, conspicuous peformance robbed Klein of his rightful claim to the final." (From a David Miller book about the WC)

'Il miglior fischietto è Klein' (Italian headline)

'Abraham Restores Our Faith' (headline in British newspaper The Daily Mirror)

'Ganz gross, Herr Klein!' (German headline: 'Fabulous, Mr Klein!')

"I hope the brave, little Israeli ref, Abraham Klein, gets the final." (Brian Glanville in the Sunday Times) Some fifty pages make perfectly clear that Spain, Hungary, Israel, German magazine Der Kicker, that everybody in the world thought Klein deserved the final. Even Jack Taylor, the Englishman who lead the 1974 final, said that Klein should have gotten it. And the one of 1982, too.

Klein doesn't care. He's had so many great games, and well, only one man can do the final.

"Looking back - and please, be careful and write this down exactly as I said it: I think there are not many referees in the world who have had such a beautiful career."

Besides: in the 1982 final he was a linesman, and he would have gotten the replay if the final would have ended in a draw.

"Let's say I accomplished everything in my FIFA career: the best of the best. The only thing I'm still waiting for, is to be hired to judge referees at FIFA tournaments."

On his way to the 1978 World Cup, he landed in Capetown first, because the climate is the same as in Argentina over there. He was fully acclimatized as he arrived in Argentina. His first game was Argentina vs Italy, Argentina's last group game.

"It was the toughest game of my career", says Klein.

Before the game he thoroughly analyzed Argentina vs Hungary and Argentina vs France. Especially because referees Garrido (Portugal) and Dumach (Switzerland) failed completely, Argentina had won both games 2-1, in front of 77,000 spectators in River Plate Stadium. Dumach denied France an obvious penalty.

"I analyzed all the players", says Klein, "which helped me to determine my tactics during the game. For example: towards the end of the first half, one of the Argentines went down in the penalty box and of course 80,000 people were whistling, screaming and crying for a penalty. I had learned from the previous games that I needed to be really close to the Argetinian players who caused the trouble. I am not telling you their names."

Brian Glanville wrote: "There was nothing more impressive in this World Cup than the way he stood between his linesmen at half-time in the Argentina - Italy game, scorning the banshee whistling of the incensed crowd."

Klein: "At half-time, as I walked into the tunnel, I was booed at by 80,000 people. In the second half, as the players were called from the dressing-rooms, my tactic was not to walk onto the pitch before the players.

"I knew the crowd would remember what had happened at the end of the first half, and they would definitely welcome me with whistling and yelling, which is not a good feeling for a referee. So I waited until the Argentines came out of the tunnel and I entered the pitch with them, towards the applause."

Argentina lost the game, 1-0, finished second in their group and had to move unexpectedly, from River Plate to Rosario. After the game, Klein was told to wait in the dressing-room. As he was finally allowed to go, there were still a lot of people standing outside, but they receded for him like the Red Sea.

Nobody said a word.

Did Klein notice that Jews were having a bad time in the Argentina of the generals?

"I got invited by the Argentinian Jewish community, and talked to them. 1978 was a bad time for Jewish people in Argentina. And I know, even though they didn't tell me so, that they were really scared as I got awarded this game. You know, being a referee you sometimes look people in the eyes and you see what they're thinking."

"What if you they had given you the final", I ask.

"You knew that Argentina was bad to Jews back then. And you probably had a good impression of Holland."

"Holland is a special country, not only to me, but to all Israeli people. They've always helped the Jews."

"In that case, you could never have lead the final objectively, could you? You would have subconsciously favoured Holland."

"I'm telling you, when I'm on the pitch, only two things are important to me: being fair to both teams and making my decisions bravely. I think all referees are fair, but not all of them are brave, probably. At the 1978 World Cup, I was leading Germany vs Austria. Well, to a Jew Germans and Austrians are the same. But they were like Dutch and Brazilians to me."

"I'll tell you something", says Klein, after we've been drinking cognac for an hour. "I spent a year of my life in Holland, when I was thirteen years old. I was on my way to Israel, from Romania and Hungary, in a train packed with children. On my way there, I went to school for a year, in Apeldoorn. In 1947."

I suspect Klein is a 'war orphan', but he doesn't tell me.

"If you live in a country for a year, right after the war, and they treat you in the best thinkable way, you get special feelings for that country. I don't think people knew this story when I was in Argentina for the World Cup. Nobody knows about it. Not even the people in Holland."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Nobody asked me."

Klein says, with a lump in his throat: "Every time I visit Holland, I go to Apeldoorn. Apeldoorn was such a place for me - and not just for me, but for 500 kids. You know, if you're starving and you get to go to a free country, with no Germans, in which the people are nice to you... I remember our first meal. We arrived in Apeldoorn around lunch time, I don't know how long it had been since we last had soup and meat. They gave us bread, we ate it all, and they said: 'Don't do that, because you'll get potatoes and meat, too!' I learned a little bit of Dutch, of course."

The Oranje captain during the WC '78 was Ruud Krol. Does Klein know that Kuki Krol, Ruud's father, saved Jews?

"Leo Horn was good friend of mine. A year before he died, he was over here in my house, with his wife. Thanks to Leo, I knew everything about Krol, everything. But on the pitch, he was like every other player to me."

He shows me a picture of Krol, who played against Argentina in 1979, as the captain of a World Team, with Klein as the referee.

"You could have lead Holland - Argentina without a problem?"

"Just like any other game. No problem at all. Nothing."