Croatia sound battle cry

At their base in Couco, Didulica and his colleagues have enjoyed two blissful days unpunctuated by mention of 1998. They might not have a Suker, but succour, for the moment, is theirs. Since Thursday, the anger of Croatia’s emotive sports press has been directed outwards rather than inwards. On Friday, the Croatian Football Federation announced it was appealing to Uefa about the refereeing at Euro 2004, arguing that on top of Trezeguet’s hand-ball, Mornar was denied a blatant penalty against Switzerland.

It will come to nought, but it is the kind of posturing that national associations can engage in when things are going well. Earlier in the week, the mood was different. Vlatko Markovic, the federation president, had to do some refereeing himself. After Croatia’s miserable draw against a 10-man Switzerland, Miroslav Blazevic, the coach in 1998, launched a bilious attack on Otto Baric, the current manager.

Describing the 2004 team as “a bunch of amateurs, not football players”, Blazevic left Baric incandescent, too angry to attend the following day’s press conference. Markovic had to arrange a peace meeting between the two in a cafe in Couco. They were photographed apparently settling their differences, but they continue to complain about one another in private. At the 2002 World Cup, Blazevic made similar criticisms of Mirko Jozic; after it was rumoured that Blazevic had been allowed to select the team for the Italy and Ecuador games, Jozic stepped down as manager. Baric, at 71, is a tougher and more experienced foe, and since the draw against France, Croatian opinion has swung against Blazevic.

The Croatian Association of Sports Journalists has published a protest against Blazevic, who is in Portugal as an accredited member of the media and stands accused of abusing that position. Even players such as the Kovac brothers, Robert and Niko, both given their debuts by Blazevic, have condemned the former coach. “Blazevic should shut up,” said Robert. “He should stay out of things. We’re concerned about the controversy he has caused in the newspapers in Croatia and it’s made us angry. We’re a little country and we don’t have extraordinary players any more. We must accept we don’t have the magic of Prosinecki or Boban.”

Out of adversity, however, there often comes strength. Baric, who will quit after the finals, has been a coach since 1964 and this is his 21st managerial job. He may be vain (he dyes his hair and asks photographers to capture his “good side” in pictures) but he is also wise. He has channelled a sense of indignation among his squad into one of purpose.

“We showed against France that we can be a good team. We’re a very good group and on our day, we can beat anybody,” said Mornar. Didulica added: “Your Boban/Prosinecki/Suker era was a team of great individuals. Our team has no real stars, no players you could say were in the world’s top 10%, but we can match 1998 if we stick together. All our boys are friends, and in games like the one against France, or England, we believe that can make a big difference.”

Looking at the Croats against Switzerland and France, it is easy to see why nostalgia is the default setting of their football-loving public. Leaving Boban, Prosinecki and Suker aside, the 1998 side was full of characters — Slaven Bilic now runs a nightclub in Split and plays guitar with a band — and, remembering Robert Jarni and Aljosa Asanovic in their prime, class. The only starting player from 1998 left in the squad is dour Dario Simic, a square-framed defender who breeds bulldogs.

Yet the current side have shown they do not deserve to be dismissed. Dado Prso is proving himself to be a deceptively subtle striker whose big frame belies a sure touch, lithe and clever movement and a decisive finishing capability. Giovani Rosso and Milan Rapaic can pass smoothly in midfield and the Kovacs are adroit readers of play. Newcastle and Tottenham are said to be on Robert’s trail, and with one year remaining on his Bayern Munich contract, he is keen to join the Premiership.

It was Robert, and not the out-of-sorts Juventus defender Igor Tudor, who curbed Thierry Henry in Leiria, bringing to mind the claim of Rainer Calmund, sports director at Bayer Leverkusen, that Robert Kovac is “the best man-marker in the world”.

With Simic, Tudor and Josip Simunic comprising an experienced back four, Niko Kovac — though he spent the second half of last season playing in Germany’s semi-professional Oberliga for Hertha Berlin reserves — offers Tomislav Butina, Croatia’s first-choice goalkeeper, further protection.

“Look at the names, who’s the favourite? I think it’s the English,” smiled Robert Kovac. “They’ll play counter-attacking football and lie in wait for us because they’re in the advantage position, but we can win. They have brilliant forwards — I admire Wayne Rooney, he’s a very tough player and he moves very quickly — but we have good defenders. Bring it on!” Their defence, which kept seven clean sheets in qualifying, is one reason Croatia believe they can break England. Another is their mentality. “We’ve not so much an ego but a confidence that we can take it to anybody,” said Didulica. “We’re not minnows in world football but we’re not world-class like the French or Italians — yet we have that confidence where we say nobody is better than us and we’re not daunted by any opponents.”

Mornar added: “Rooney’s on form, but what’s the problem? If we played against England 10 times we’d lose six or seven, but in a one-off game our chances are much higher.”

Then there is Croatian pride, both national and personal. In Leiria they were roused at 1-0 down by a cry from their supporters, which translated roughly as: “Play, you gays!” Edifying or not, the chant had the desired effect. The Croatian fans were a reminder of the powerful nationalism that fuelled the 1998 team. Didulica, like Mark Viduka a Melbourne-born Australian Croat, told of meeting Croatian supporters from Australia and Germany in Portugal and, after Thursday’s match, was stopped by an American-Croatian couple to pose for a photograph. “Croats come to these tournaments from all around the world. It’s like a festival of national pride,” he said.

“The key to beating England is closing them down. They play totally different to the French, with more long balls, and they have such good balance, with David Beckham on the right playing those diagonal passes. We’ll have to guard against that and Michael Owen, with his pace, and the blind-side runs he makes. Then we’ll have to handle little Rooney — or big Rooney, I should say. He’s surprised all of us. He’s playing beyond himself and is England’s danger man.”

Butina predicts that England won’t play for a draw. “Their fans wouldn’t accept that,” he said. “They play for victory, always.”

Niko Kovac, remembering last August’s friendly between the two countries, claimed: “We lost 3-1 but they weren’t better than us. We know how England play and we have confidence we can make it.”

Robert Kovac added: “Against France there was no pressure on us and there’s no pressure versus England.”

Mornar, who wore a piratical red-checked headscarf as he left the Estadio Dr Magalhaes Pessoa, came over all mystical. “I had a chance to win the (French) game for us, but I missed,” he said. “Maybe the gods decided it was better that way and that my goal will come on Monday.”

Bilic is a popular contender to take over from Baric — who even Markovic calls “a Methuselah”. Another is Boban, who has just finished a degree in history at Zagreb. With typical class, he went through four years of lectures and tutorials as an ordinary student, refusing special treatment.

“Croatia must treat the past as a motivation,” Boban said before these championships. “When I went to Milan, it had lost Frank Rijkaard, Ruud Gullit and Marco van Basten, but we built a new team — and now Croatia should look up to Suker, etcetera, as an inspiration, not a burden.”

There are ominous signs for England that their bechecked foes are taking heed.