As increased popularity and professionalism saw football start to outgrow the Olympic Games in the 1920s, momentum gathered for the sport to have a dedicated competition of it own. Football was about to become the global game, and at the centre of it was Uruguay, a tiny, little-known South American nation.
Established in 1830 as a buffer state between Argentina and Brazil, Uruguay rapidly embraced football in the late 19th century. In Martin da Cruz’s first book, From Beauty to Duty: A Footballing History of Uruguay, he charted the game’s growth and the emergence of a distinctly Uruguayan footballing culture. In this follow-up, Uruguay: Football’s First Global Power, he picks up where he left off in 1918, with Uruguay two-time continental champions and on the path to global success.
As in his debut book, da Cruz’s approach blends crafted storytelling with press coverage of the era. Drawing on a rich seam of Spanish-language sources and Uruguay’s already distinguished culture of sports journalism, his painstaking research adds richness throughout and scatters the text with rewarding details.
We hear how two resounding victories against a touring Basque side in 1922 greatly boosted Uruguay’s competitive ambitions. Visiting teams had once provided models to learn from; now, Uruguay were beating them. Six of the Basque side had represented Spain at the 1920 Olympics – the only ‘global’ competition, despite its near-monopolisation by Europe – leaving the Uruguayans dreaming of testing themselves against other international sides at the 1924 Games in Paris.
The issue, as was often the case for athletes of the time, was how to fund such a trip. Despite this being the era of amateurismo marrón, or shamateurism, during which the players earned money under the table but also had jobs, sailing to Europe would mean several weeks away. In the end, a pre-Olympic European tour was arranged to raise money, with federation president Atilio Narancio mortgaging one of his properties to plug the rest of the deficit.
Da Cruz skilfully brings Uruguay’s European adventure to life, giving personality to the iconic names of the era: the likes of José Nasazzi, José Leandro Andrade, Héctor Scarone and Pedro Arispe. The book goes beyond the mythology, outlining how Uruguay did not turn up as complete unknowns, at least in a sporting sense, with their pre-tournament arrival in Spain highly anticipated. Even so, the opening game sees the Uruguayan flag hung upside down, and the wrong anthem played. By the time they’ve beaten all before them, though, the press – both at home and in Europe – are declaring that tiny Uruguay has announced itself to the world.
The treatment of black players, particularly Andrade and his predecessor Isabelino Gradín, provides another interesting thread. Although Uruguay integrated black players earlier than elsewhere, da Cruz highlights some of the contradictions present. Andrade emerges as a complex and sometimes elusive figure, but his brilliance on the field couldn’t shield him from certain barriers and criticisms off it. The attention he received in Paris, meanwhile, offers insight into the European négrophilie of the era, a white fascination with black culture.
After winning a second Olympic title in Amsterdam in 1928, the book details how Uruguay’s on-field pursuits were followed up by diplomatic manoeuvres off it, unexpectedly securing the hosting rights to the inaugural World Cup in 1930, the year of Uruguay’s centenary. Though the bid was unanimously accepted by European associations, most ultimately refused to attend. Only some last-minute lobbying secured the attendance of Belgium, France, Yugoslavia and Romania, rescuing the global credentials of the tournament.
Preparations were chaotic and charmingly quaint by today’s standards. As in Amsterdam, the final was a rioplatense derby between Uruguay and Argentina. The recounting of the day is vivid, with the hosts claiming their third title and the significance of the moment already strikingly clear. “Times will change. Laws and customs will evolve. New generations will come with different ambitions and ideals,” reflected El Día newspaper. “Yet the feats of our athletes at Colombes, Amsterdam and now at the magnificent Centenario will be remembered forever.”
Unlike many historical retrospectives, Uruguay avoids the temptation to reassess everything through a modern lens, instead leaning heavily on the accounts of those present and the contemporary press coverage. The result is a pleasingly immersive journey through Uruguay’s rise as a global footballing power – not to mention the birth of the world’s biggest sporting event, the FIFA World Cup.
Uruguay: Football’s First Global Power 1918-1930 is available from Pitch Publishing