FERENCVÁROS WON BUT ON THE WAY TO ROME THERE WILL BE PIOLA
Jean Eskenazi | 13/09/1937, Budapest

The Mitropa Cup is to Central Europe what the FA Cup is to British football. Nothing comparable though. The Cup final is an exceptional event which looks like a national celebration of English football and which has all the more prestige as it is played over a single match. The Central European Cup final is international.

Only once has it been contested by two clubs from the same country. And if, by its formula, it requires two matches for each meeting, and respects sporting truth more, its intensity, in terms of emotions, is not as appreciable. The mathematical spirit prevails over the psychological drama and does not allow its brutal expansions, these joys without ulterior motive. The goal average awaits you at each game and the eloquence of the figures rigorously supplants the imponderables, the injustices, all the human elements which contribute to the incomparable life of all the cups.

The trumpets of the renown cannot yet be stuffed to sing the los de Ferencváros, following its success yesterday. They have so far won only half of the cup, but the epilogue is different.

It's not until October, when Ferencváros visits Lazio, at Rome, that we will know who will succeed Austria and with this terrible Piola, the best continental centre-forward, I will not bet for the Hungarian club despite the lead they took yesterday.

PIOLA AND SÁROSI

Yesterday's meeting was no less interesting for that. With a team that lacked its two half-wings and where Toldi only behaved like a convalescent. Ferencváros achieved deserved success through superior science and technique.

TWO SEVERAL PENALTIES

The Italians, athletic as one could wish, remarkable in heading, skilful in the volley, playing modern football with their centre-half well back and proceeding through wide openings on the wings, did what they could to win, but succumbed, having against them two penalties which seemed very severe to me and which no British referee I believe would have whistled.

Their football was more effective than that of the Hungarians and their less brilliant action was certainly more direct. It's a less fine handle, less artistic, but it's the one however that French football should adopt.

Although beaten, although not having a formation with the virtuosity of Juventus of the great era or Bologna that we saw in June in Paris, Lazio left an excellent impression on me. The Roman club is yet to lose the Central European Cup. However, the Ferencváros leaders were not thrilled with their team's game and that is, without doubt, with good reason. Without a Sárosi, a quite exceptional footballer, a great leader of men, very much in the style of Central European football, what would have happened to Ferencváros?

THE BRILLIANT GAME OF SÁROSI

But Sárosi's game was a treat. His dribbling, his feints, his touch of the ball, his science of clearing, are worth for a football fanatic a trip like that from Paris to Budapest.

Don't be surprised, however, if, having to choose between Piola and Sárosi, who would be offered to me on a silver platter, I would take the former.

Piola is the prototype of the forward for modern football which, more and more tends to give a large place to physical qualities, to territorial efficiency, at the expense of this subtle ball game, so elegant, so racy what is central European football.

The result, nothing but the result, is a reflection of the times. In 1937 football, you can no longer play for fun. In front of the goals, Piola is not joking.