Minutes before the 1978 World Cup final between Argentina and Holland in Buenos Aires, the future Irish manager, Jack Charlton, appeared on a Dutch television "experts panel".
He was asked how he thought the final would go. As often with Charlton, his reply was blunt and to the point: "If this World Cup final were being played anywhere other than Argentina, then Holland would win."
The final, however, was being played in Argentina and Holland did not win. Patently favoured by referees in their opening games and then buoyed by an outpouring of nationalist euphoria, the Argentina of "The Generals" triumphed in an anti-climatic final that came at the end of a tournament that did not always follow Marquess of Queensberry guidelines.
One example may make the point. That 16-team tournament was played in two sets of round-robin groups with the final being contested by the winners of the two second round groups. Coming into their last second round group game, Argentina needed to beat Peru by four clear goals to reach the final.
In the end - surprise, surprise - Argentina won 6-0 against the side that had started the competition by seeing off Ally McCleod's Scotland, 3-1. The game was a shambolic exercise in calculated cynicism and one that tarnished the entire tournament.
Those World Cup finals, too, had started against the background of concern about the extent to which the notorious ruling military junta of the Generals would use football to put a clean face on their filthy regime.
Given the context, those of us who watched the finals from the security of our European living rooms experienced a certain uncomfortable ambivalence. Despite the fact that many felt that Holland were the moral winners many commentators still felt obliged to express a grudging admiration for Argentina.
Even without help from referees (and they got plenty of that), the Argentina of Ardiles, Kempes, Gallego, Bertoni, Luque and Passarella was an excellent side. No single player, however, more succinctly embodied one's sense of ambiguity than the last mentioned Passarella. On the one hand, he was the captain of the side of General Jorge Videla, the pin-up acceptable face. On the other hand, he was an outstanding central defender.
Long after the Generals had fallen from power, Passarella went on to finish off his career with six outstanding seasons in Italian soccer, first with Fiorentina and then with Inter Milan.
His fiercely aggressive football, his power, pace and timing, not to mention his brilliant free-kick and penalty-kick skills won him endless plaudits.
More impressive than all his technical skills, however, was Passarella's personality. He was a born leader, by example and from the front. Reports emerged that he ruled his dressing-rooms with an intimidatory iron rod.
When Passarella went on to immediately become a successful coach, winning three Argentine titles with River Plate in the early '90s, no one was surprised to learn that he took a tough, disciplinary line with his players. When he then became Argentina national coach and declared that he would not pick homosexuals or players with either long hair or ear rings, one again nodded sagely. What else would you expect.
This week, perhaps even as we write, Passarella is in difficulty at his latest job, that of coach to Serie A side Parma.
Six weeks since taking over a multi-national side of talented and "big name" players, Passarella has picked up five consecutive Serie A losses (plus, admittedly, a UEFA Cup fourth round qualification). Parma, three times European trophy winners in the '90s, currently lie in an ignominious second last place in Serie A.
Could it be that the age of the iron-rod manager is over? Could it be that, if he is to survive in Serie A, Passarella will have to tread the steep and thorny path of patient dialogue rather than of sergeant-major bullying? Watch this space.
