Cristiano Ronaldo’s tears at the end of the Euro 2004 final are an enduring image for any football fan who witnessed it. Even a decade later, there’s something captivating about watching Cristiano Ronaldo cry. It wasn’t just a personal disappointment; it was the shattering of expectations in what became one of the most surprising Euros Tournament outcomes in history. Euro 2004 was not only Ronaldo’s first major international tournament, but it was also an awakening for many football fans, including myself, to the unpredictable nature of the beautiful game.
For a newcomer to football fandom, like I was then, Euro 2004 delivered a harsh but essential lesson that Ronaldo learned firsthand on the pitch: football can be brutally unfair. Unlike some American sports that strive for engineered parity, European football, especially at the international level, often feels governed by an old-world hierarchy. The established powers are expected to triumph, leaving little room for the underdogs. Yet, the euros tournament of 2004 spectacularly defied this norm, ripping up the script and delivering a story that continues to resonate.
The Unlikely Rise of Greece: A Euro 2004 Fairytale
Greece arrived in Portugal for the euros tournament as an afterthought, a team barely considered worthy of mention amongst the giants of European football. Their history in major tournaments was bleak; they had never won a single game on such a stage. In the tournament’s opening match, they were essentially presented as sacrificial lambs against the host nation, Portugal, and their burgeoning star, Cristiano Ronaldo. Admittedly, expecting a comfortable Portuguese victory, I almost skipped watching the opener. However, those who did witness it saw Greece grind out a shock 2-1 victory. This match served as a brutal introduction to the euros tournament and taught an invaluable lesson: in the Euros, and indeed in football, never, ever look away. Remarkably, those two goals against Portugal would be the most Greece would score in any single match throughout the entire tournament, highlighting their unconventional path to glory.
Cristiano Ronaldo’s emotional reaction after Portugal’s defeat in the Euro 2004 final, a defining moment of the euros tournament.
In that euros tournament, Portugal boasted a constellation of stars, the remnants of a golden generation and emerging talents. Greece, in stark contrast, was confronted by the established elite – names like Luís Figo, Zinedine Zidane, Raúl, and Pavel Nedvěd, players who defined the previous decade of football. Faced with a seemingly insurmountable gulf in talent, Greece’s wily German coach, Otto Rehhagel, opted for a pragmatic, some might say disruptive, approach. His strategy was to stifle the game, to negate the opposition’s strengths rather than trying to outplay them. His players diligently clogged the penalty area, marking their opponents with relentless intensity, suffocating the creative playmakers and denying them any space to showcase their brilliance. By dragging Europe’s finest teams into a physical and tactical quagmire, Greece then proceeded to dismantle them with ruthless efficiency, much like “savage pigs,” as the original article aptly describes.
While similar tactics employed by a wealthy club team like a “$200 million Chelsea team” might be deemed aesthetically unappealing and “unwatchable,” Greece’s approach was born out of necessity. They simply lacked the individual brilliance to dominate in a conventional manner. Yet, their defensive system wasn’t impenetrable. In almost every match, their goal lived a charmed life, with two or three shots narrowly missing or being expertly saved. These were not just down to luck or fate, but perhaps a testament to what some might call the “offensive ineptitude” of their opponents when faced with such a resolute defense. Purist fans might have labeled these matches as “boring,” but for many, including myself, there was a compelling argument that winning ugly is infinitely preferable to losing beautifully. Guerrilla tactics have historically served the Greeks well in warfare, so why should they abandon them on the football pitch? Their motto seemed to be: Kill the spectacle if needed. Scorch the earth of beautiful football if necessary. Channel the spirit of Thermopylae and stand firm.
Otto Rehhagel, the mastermind behind Greece’s defensive tactics in Euro 2004, a key element of their unlikely euros tournament victory.
After narrowly progressing from the group stages, against all expectations, Greece faced the reigning European champions, France, in the quarter-finals of the euros tournament. France was a team overflowing with world-class talent, led by Zinedine Zidane and complemented by Thierry Henry, Patrick Vieira, and Robert Pirès, fresh off Arsenal’s historic undefeated Premier League season. Conventional wisdom dictated that Greece’s improbable journey was about to end, and they were destined for a heavy defeat at the hands of the French juggernaut. However, the match remained stubbornly goalless for over an hour. Then, in a moment that defied the script, Theodoros Zagorakis, not known for his flair, produced an uncharacteristic piece of brilliance. 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 the kind of moment of individual skill and audacity one might expect from Zidane himself, but on this occasion, it was a Greek player who conjured it. In the very year Zidane was voted the best European player since 1954, the disciplined Greek midfield effectively neutralized him, rendering him largely ineffective. Despite his glittering career, Zidane would never again lift a major trophy for his country after this euros tournament setback.
The semi-final of the euros tournament pitted Greece against the Czech Republic, another team with their own compelling narrative. The Czechs had dramatically qualified for the semi-finals after a stunning three-goal comeback against the Netherlands. However, they too found themselves unable to unlock the suffocating Greek defense. The Czech Republic’s attacking verve diminished after Pavel Nedvěd, their talismanic midfielder, was forced off with an injury in the first half.
As extra time wore on, and players from both sides succumbed to fatigue and cramps, the score remained 0-0. The Czechs seemed to be banking on penalties, confident in their young goalkeeper Petr Čech’s ability to be the hero. But a penalty shootout never materialized. Moments before the end of the first period of extra time, a lapse in concentration while defending a corner proved fatal for the Czechs. Čech remained rooted to his line as Traianos Dellas headed the ball past him, a ‘silver goal’ – a now-defunct rule where a goal in extra time ended the game – securing an improbable victory. Greece, against all logic and predictions, had reached the final of the euros tournament.
Euro 2004: A Tournament Fans Love to Hate, But Should Respect
Looking back, perhaps I was among the few non-Greeks genuinely captivated by this underdog story unfolding at the euros tournament. A decade later, even amidst the excitement of a thrilling World Cup, Euro 2004 is often recalled with less fondness, even as a low point in international football. Fans often tune into international tournaments seeking brilliance, offensive fireworks, and captivating narratives, but primarily, they crave beautiful play. (Ironically, as this article points out, they almost never consistently get it.) After enduring the often-grinding nature of club football, where their favorite teams might fall short of titles, fans seek escapism in international tournaments, hoping to invest their emotions in teams like France, Brazil, or the Netherlands – teams promising the spectacle of the “beautiful game.” Euro 2004, with Greece’s pragmatic approach, seemed to spoil that anticipated party.
In the final in Lisbon, Portugal had the opportunity for revenge against the team that had inflicted an opening-day defeat and derailed their euros tournament ambitions from the start. Led by Cristiano Ronaldo and the veterans of their “golden generation,” Luís Figo and Rui Costa, Portugal was desperate to finally deliver on years of unfulfilled potential. These players, who had triumphed at the 1989 Youth World Championship, were acutely aware that this euros tournament final represented their last realistic chance at major international silverware.
The Greek national team celebrating their historic Euro 2004 victory, a testament to underdog success in euros tournaments.
Greece, labeled by The Guardian as “the only underdogs in history that everyone wants to see get beaten,” continued to defy the odds and ride their wave of fortune and tactical discipline. Early in the second half of the final, they scored. It was their solitary corner of the entire match, their only shot on target, and, predictably, the only goal they required. Despite near misses from Ronaldo, Figo, and Rui Costa, the Greek defense remained unyielding. They absorbed the pressure, they held on, and they achieved the unthinkable. They won the euros tournament. And Cristiano Ronaldo, the young star expected to lead Portugal to glory, was left in tears, his dreams shattered on home soil.
While I admit I don’t derive quite the same visceral satisfaction from watching Ronaldo sob now as I did back in 2004, there was a certain vindication then. His trademark look of entitled astonishment when things didn’t go his way fueled a certain schadenfreude. Though not yet the global superstar he would become, he was clearly on the path to greatness, and there was a perverse pleasure in witnessing his early stumbles. However, with age and a broader perspective on sports, my inclination to solely root for the underdog has diminished. Experience has taught me that many upsets are simply instances of a good team underperforming, which isn’t always a cause for celebration. After watching enough mediocre football – or baseball, or basketball, or tennis – one begins to crave genuine excellence. Narrative is engaging, but ultimately, the desire to witness the best perform at their best becomes paramount.
Back in 2004, I invested around $200 to watch the Euros on Pay-Per-View. This was before ESPN’s extensive coverage of the tournament in the US, and at times, it felt like this euros tournament was being broadcast almost exclusively for a niche audience like myself. Having only recently become a dedicated football fan, I was eager to witness the legends – Zidane and Nedvěd, Figo and Totti, Kahn and Barthez – in action. When I became a fan, these players were already established giants, their reputations built on feats I had only read about. Every year brings forth new “greatest players,” but now, they are younger than me, more relatable, less mythical. No footballer, in my mind, will ever quite reach the mythical status of Zidane in 2004.
Many of these titans would feature again in the 2006 World Cup, but it often felt like a somewhat melancholic final act. Euro 2004, in a way, broke their spell. Cristiano Ronaldo learned a crucial, albeit painful, lesson about the unpredictable nature of sport, and so did I. Greatness, as Euro 2004 demonstrated, can be fleeting. I tuned into that euros tournament in Portugal expecting to witness the titans of football reign supreme, but instead, I found myself captivated and ultimately charmed by eleven incredibly resilient Greeks – the team that made the gods of football weep.
