Cristiano Ronaldo’s tears at the Euro 2004 final are an enduring image for any football fan who witnessed that tournament. The raw emotion of a teenager denied victory on the grand stage was palpable, a stark reminder of football’s inherent cruelty. For a newly minted soccer enthusiast like myself, Euro 2004 was a baptism by fire, a lesson learned swiftly and memorably: in football, unlike the parity-driven landscape of American sports, the established order often reigns supreme, yet sometimes, spectacularly, it doesn’t. The 2004 Euros were a testament to this beautiful, brutal unpredictability, and as someone who invested around $200 in pay-per-view to watch every moment, the memories remain vivid and valuable.
Greece: The Ultimate Underdogs Story of Euro 2004
Going into Euro 2004, the Greek national team was the definition of an afterthought. Their history in major tournaments was barren, marked by zero wins. In fact, their opening match against hosts Portugal was widely perceived as a formality, a chance for Cristiano Ronaldo and the Portuguese stars to assert dominance. Admitting my initial misjudgment, I almost skipped that opening game, anticipating a predictable Portuguese rout. However, Greece, defying all expectations, clawed their way to a 2-1 victory. This unexpected result served as my first, crucial lesson of Euro 2004: never underestimate the underdog, and certainly, never look away. Ironically, those two goals in the opener would be the most Greece would score in a single match throughout the entire tournament, highlighting their incredibly efficient, if not always aesthetically pleasing, path to glory.
Tactical Masterclass or “Anti-Football”? The Greek Defensive Wall
Throughout Euro 2004, Greece navigated a gauntlet of European football royalty. They faced teams brimming with legends of the previous decade, from the “Galácticos” like Luís Figo and Zinedine Zidane, to European icons like Pavel Nedvěd. Confronted with a seemingly insurmountable talent gap, Greece’s German coach, Otto Rehhagel, opted for pragmatism over panache. His strategy was to disrupt, to stifle, to essentially “break the game.” Greece implemented a highly organized, intensely defensive system. They clogged the penalty area, marking opposition players with relentless focus, suffocating the creative space for playmakers to operate. By dragging Europe’s elite into a physical, attritional battle, they systematically dismantled them, much like “savage pigs” as the original article aptly describes.
While some critics, especially those accustomed to the free-flowing attacking football often associated with teams like a $200 million Chelsea squad (as referenced in the original article, highlighting the cost of top football), labeled Greece’s tactics as “anti-football” and unwatchable, I found a different kind of beauty in their approach. It wasn’t about dazzling skills, but unwavering discipline and tactical execution. It’s true that Greece’s defense wasn’t impenetrable. In almost every match, opponents came agonizingly close, with shots narrowly missing or heroically saved. These near-equalizers, however, never materialized, often attributed to luck or fate, or perhaps, as the original article wryly suggests, “offensive ineptitude” from their opponents frustrated by the Greek wall. More seasoned fans might have dismissed these games as dull, but for me, witnessing Greece’s improbable journey, winning ugly felt infinitely more compelling than losing beautifully. Guerrilla warfare had historically served the Greeks well, and in Euro 2004, they translated that spirit onto the football pitch: suffocate the opponent, minimize risks, and seize the few opportunities that arise. Remember Thermopylae, indeed.
Knocking Out the Giants: France and Czech Republic Fall to Greece
After narrowly escaping the group stages, the knockout rounds presented even sterner tests for Greece. First up were the reigning European champions, France, in the quarter-finals. This French team was a powerhouse, boasting not only Zidane, but also Thierry Henry, Patrick Vieira, and Robert Pirès, fresh off Arsenal’s historic undefeated Premier League season. Logically, this was where Greece’s Cinderella run should have ended, facing a team of such caliber. Yet, the match remained stubbornly goalless for over an hour. Then, in a moment of unexpected brilliance, Greek midfielder Theodoros Zagorakis, known more for his grit than flair, conjured up a moment of magic. He flicked the ball audaciously over a French defender’s head, surged past him, and delivered a perfect cross for Angelos Charisteas to head home the decisive goal.
It was a move reminiscent of Zidane himself, only it was a Greek player executing it against Zidane’s France. In a year where Zidane was still considered by many as the best European player, the Greek midfield effectively neutralized him. Despite his legendary status, Zidane would never again lift a major trophy for club or country after this defeat, perhaps signaling a changing of the guard.
The semi-finals pitted Greece against the Czech Republic, another team with a compelling narrative. The Czechs had stormed into the semi-finals, fueled by an incredible three-goal comeback against the Netherlands in the previous round. However, they too proved unable to unlock the Greek defensive puzzle. Adding to their woes, Czech talisman Pavel Nedvěd was forced off injured in the first half, diminishing their attacking spark. As the game wore on into extra time, both teams visibly fatigued, the score remained locked at 0-0. The Czechs might have fancied their chances in a penalty shootout, relying on their young goalkeeping prodigy, Petr Čech. But a shootout never happened. Moments before the end of the first period of extra time, a lapse in Czech concentration while defending a corner proved fatal. Traianos Dellas rose highest to head the ball past a static Čech, a “silver goal” – enough to secure a place in the final for Greece. Unbelievably, Greece, against all odds, were in the Euro 2004 final.
The Final in Lisbon: Greece vs. Portugal (Again) and 2004 Euros Pay-Per-View Value
By this point, as the original article humorously notes, I might have been the only non-Greek truly captivated by this improbable story. A decade later, in retrospect, Euro 2004 is often viewed as a low point, a tournament that prioritized pragmatism over entertainment. Fans often tune into international tournaments seeking spectacle, wanting to see the beautiful game at its finest, especially after enduring the often-grinding nature of club football. They want to invest their emotional energy in teams like France, Brazil, or Netherlands, teams promising attacking flair and goals. Euro 2004, with Greece’s defensive dominance, arguably disrupted this expectation.
The final in Lisbon offered Portugal a chance for revenge against the team that had humiliated them in the tournament opener. Portugal, driven by a desire to win on home soil, and spearheaded by Cristiano Ronaldo and the veterans of their “golden generation,” Rui Costa and Luís Figo, were heavily favored. These players, who had tasted victory at the 1989 Youth World Championship, were running out of time to fulfill their immense potential on the senior stage. This final was widely seen as their destiny, their last chance.
However, Greece, described by The Guardian as “the only underdogs in history that everyone wants to see get beaten,” continued to defy the script. In the second half, from their only corner of the entire match, and their only shot on target, Angelos Charisteas headed in the winning goal. Despite sustained pressure and near misses from Ronaldo, Figo, and Rui Costa, the Greek defense held firm. They absorbed the pressure, they frustrated the Portuguese attack, and they clung on to victory. The final whistle blew, and Greece, impossibly, were crowned European Champions. And Cristiano Ronaldo, the young star tipped for greatness, wept openly.
Beyond the Beautiful Game: The Legacy of Euro 2004 and a Fan’s $200 Experience
While I might not derive quite the same “vicious pleasure” from watching Ronaldo cry now as I perhaps did in 2004, his tears remain a potent symbol of that tournament’s stunning upset. Back then, as a new fan who had paid around $200 to watch Euro 2004 on Pay-Per-View, it felt like a personal investment in witnessing football history, even if initially driven by a desire to see the established giants. Before ESPN’s widespread coverage, access to Euro 2004 felt exclusive, almost tailored to a niche audience like myself. I was eager to witness the legends I had only read about – Zidane, Nedvěd, Figo, Totti, Kahn, Barthez – players who already seemed like titans. Euro 2004 was, in many ways, a turning point. While most of these legends would feature in the 2006 World Cup, it felt like a final, somewhat melancholic act. 2004 marked a break in their dominance. Cristiano Ronaldo learned a harsh, vital lesson about the unpredictable nature of sport, and so did I. Greatness, as Euro 2004 vividly demonstrated, can be fleeting. I tuned in to Portugal expecting to see the titans of football reign supreme, but I ended up falling for the eleven tenacious Greeks – the team that made the gods of football weep, and for a $200 investment in pay-per-view, it was an unforgettable and invaluable lesson in the beautiful game’s captivating unpredictability.
