The following is a chapter excerpted from “You Can’t Get There from Here: My Soccer Journey from Derby to Detroit,” by Roger N. Faulkner. As president of the Michigan Soccer Association, Faulkner spearheaded Detroit’s successful bid to host 1994 World Cup matches at the Silverdome, the tournament’s first indoor venue, and chaired the Detroit host committee. Faulkner grew up in wartime Britain and a career transfer brought him to Detroit, where he was the co-founder of the NASL’s Detroit Express in 1978. After the World Cup, he was a founding director of the U.S. Soccer Foundation and served on its investment committee from 1995 to 2018.
Opening Events
The organizers of World Cup 1994 probably thought they had accounted for all eventualities in planning the details of the opening events in Chicago. Surely nothing could detract from the global focus on Chicago as the world’s greatest sporting event kicked off. Nothing, that is, other than a ninety-minute slow-motion police pursuit on a Los Angeles freeway of O. J. Simpson, who that day had failed to give himself up as a suspect in the murders of his ex-wife Nicole Simpson and Ronald Goldman.
That pursuit began at five in the evening Chicago time, just as we were getting ready to leave our hotel for the opening gala at the Navy Pier, and it was a competing topic of conversation throughout the evening. Nevertheless, the gala was a great success, a splendid $500 a ticket black-tie affair headlined by Liza Minnelli with sumptuous food, strolling entertainment, and of course decor reflecting the global event and the host cities.
The opening game of the World Cup was the following day and began with a reception at US Soccer House, a rambling nineteenth- century building on South Prairie Avenue, Chicago, that served as the headquarters of the United States Soccer Federation. Hank Steinbrecher, secretary general of the USSF, was a gracious host, and he introduced Lori and I to Henry Kissinger, the honorary chairman of World Cup 1994 and an ardent soccer fan.
It was an absurdly hot day, peaking at ninety-three degrees and not made for walking, but we all walked some distance from Prairie Avenue to Soldier Field. By the time we reached our seats we regretted the formal attire we were obliged to wear.
The opening ceremonies were as star-studded of an affair as one would expect, with Oprah Winfrey as the host, a speech by President Clinton, and a performance by Diana Ross, who demonstrated why she’s an entertainer and not a professional soccer player by making a hash of a penalty kick attempt. Her kick went wide, but the goalposts, as planned, nevertheless collapsed dramatically.
The opening game itself, between Germany and Bolivia, was somewhat cautious but enlivened by that man again, Jurgen Klinsmann, who scored the only goal for Germany in the sixty-first minute, thus ensuring that at least Henry Kissinger slept happily that night!
The following morning we rose early for a seven o’clock flight departure from Megg’s Field. We were flying on Henry Kissinger’s chartered plane, and the excitement was palpable. We were heading to Pontiac and for the United States national team’s opener against Roy Hodgson’s Switzerland.
The US had qualified for the 1990 World Cup in Italy thanks to “the shot heard round the World,” Paul Caliguri’s long-range dipping effort in the last qualifying match in Trinidad, but it had been a disappointing campaign. The U.S. was soundly beaten by Czechoslovakia 5–1 in Florence, lost narrowly 1–0 to Italy in Rome, and then went down 2–1 to Austria back in Florence. It was vital that the U.S. perform well in this World Cup, both to earn some degree of global respect and to justify FIFA’s confidence that we would not embarrass ourselves as World Cup hosts.
We knew there would be a healthy contingent of Swiss supporters at the game, but Alan Rothenberg was surprised, as we flew near the Silverdome, to see an enormous Swiss flag, measuring some fifty yards by forty, supported by two huge cranes in a nearby field off Opdyke Road. “How could you allow that, Roger?” Alan asked.
“Don’t worry, Alan,” I replied. “That’s just the Red Cross tent!” The flag was in fact conceived by the Swiss Football Association and was funded by Credit Suisse and the Swiss Volksbank. Who said bankers had no heart?
After landing at the local Pontiac Airport, we boarded a coach that, with a police escort, took us to the Silverdome. As we neared the stadium, Sunil Gulati (the executive vice president of the 1994 World Cup organizing committee) approached me and said, “Roger, you know we always hold a few game tickets back for late requests from politicians or celebrities. Well, can you help me dispose of what I have left?” He then handed me some 320 tickets! I would have dearly loved having those tickets to the sold-out match a few hours earlier, but shortly before game time, with our coach already in the stadium parking lot, there was little I could do.
While the match was a sell-out, there had been some concern at the organizing committee offices that the atmosphere, with so many people perhaps attending their first game ever, might be too sterile. On the day before the game, they had called to ask that we acquire literally thousands of U.S. flags and attach them to the backs of the stadium seats. Julie Ilacqua, our valiant volunteer coordinator, duly rallied the troops, and they labored long through the night to ensure each spectator had a small flag within arm’s reach.
The opening ceremonies were both colorful and wonderfully choreographed. They ended with the flags of the competing nations entering the field in alphabetical order. Conveniently, this meant that the last flag to enter the arena was that of the United States. The roar that greeted the Stars and Stripes must have been heard for miles around, at which point Alan Rothenberg turned to me with a sly smile and said, “Wasted a lot of money on those bloody flags, didn’t you, Roger!”
Inside the Silverdome the crowd of 73,425 fans sweltered in one-hundred-degree temperatures and more than 80-percent humidity.
Since the stadium had an air-supported roof, there was no way to extract the heat, and we envied the spectators in their short-sleeved shirts as we suffered in the Tribune of Honor section in very uncomfortable suits and ties. Our guests in the Tribune, which included the great tenor Placido Domingo and Brett Musburger, together with U.S. Soccer and FIFA officials, must have been equally uncomfortable.
On the field, the players had to contend with not only the heat and humidity but also the intense atmosphere created by the American fans and some ten thousand Swiss supporters. Roy Hodgson, the Swiss coach, was later to bemoan the way the sounds and smells were amplified in the indoor arena. “It was like playing in a hot dog stand,” was his verdict after the match.
All of this should have been an advantage to the American squad, but it was Switzerland who scored the opening goal in the thirty-ninth minute. The Swiss team had been awarded a free kick just outside the box, and as goalkeeper Tony Meola described it, “We had set up the wall, but we were way off-line. I could not communicate with the players because of the noise and did not see the ball until the last four or five feet.” By this time it was too late, and Georges Bregy’s fine free kick had given Switzerland the lead.
After this, it was “all hands to the pump” as the U.S. defended heroically against a dominating Swiss team. But in the last minute of the first half, the U.S. won a free kick almost thirty yards out from the Swiss goal. Eric Wynalda, who had suffered through the previous night with a rash on his arms and legs that was still bothering him, debated with Tab Ramos as to who should take the free kick. Wynalda won, and so did American soccer, as Eric hit a laser that cannoned off the crossbar and into the net for the tying goal.
Just twelve minutes into the second half Wynalda had to be substituted out, but he had scored a goal comparable to Caliguri’s in 1989, one which will remain etched in the memory for all who witnessed it. It was Caliguri himself who later provided the best punch line on Wynalda’s goal. “Give Eric an itch and he will take a mile!” he said, referring to what had turned out to be a case of hives for the American game-winner. The Detroit News headline the next day said it best as it echoed the thoughts of many: “After 44 years, a point!”
The U.S. players were all heroes that day, but it was particularly pleasing to see Michigan’s own Alexi Lalas—whose mother, Anne Woodworth, had helped our bid and hosting efforts so much—play such a towering role in defense as the team kept the Swiss at bay.
The day closed with another splendid media party at Meadowbrook Hall. On the grounds of the hall a huge tent was resplendent with posters of Detroit music stars including Diana Ross and the Supremes. A juke box was on hand in addition to, of course, a large-screen TV for the media to keep track of the late game between Ireland and Italy. Randy Agley, CEO of Talon Inc., chaired the event, which provided a fitting conclusion to a remarkable day.
• “You Can’t Get There from Here: My Soccer Journey from Derby to Detroit” By Roger N. Faulkner (2026). Available in hardcover and paperback.
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My 1994 World Cup Story: From Chicago, IL to Pontiac, MI
As I diligently mapped out a detailed travel plan, I never expected that my road trip–-and the start of the World Cup–-would coincide with one of the most infamous murder cases and highway chases in US history. The June 12th killing of Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown Simpson, outside her home in the Brentwood section of Los Angeles, had become international news as I prepared for the start of my Cup odyssey. A preliminary first leg would take me from Providence, Rhode Island to Chicago, Illinois via Oakmont, Pennsylvania, where I hoped to see Arnold Palmer play in his final U.S. Open during the golf tournament’s first round. Mission accomplished, on June 16th, as I joined Arnie’s Army on a hot, humid day before following my golf hero, Tom Watson, the first round leader, and the eventual champion, Ernie Els, for a few holes as well.
After staying off I-90 in Maumee, Ohio that night, I drove to Soldier Field in Chicago for the opening match of the World Cup on July 17th–-without a ticket–-so thank you, Bradley A, wherever you might be now, for selling me a ticket at face value ($40/Category 3) outside of the stadium. I made it to my seat in time for the opening ceremonies, emceed by Oprah Winfrey, starring Diana Ross, and officially opened by President Bill Clinton before Chicago’s Richard Marx sang an uplifting national anthem.
As for the match itself, Germany defeated Ecuador, 1-0, on a 61st minute goal by Jurgen Klinsmann. Ecuador’s hopes for a comeback were minimized when the substitute forward, Marco Etcheverry, on the field for four minutes, committed a petulant red card foul. Following the match, I found my way to a biergarten in one of Chicago’s German neighborhoods to join in the post-match celebrations. I also watched the first half of the day’s other match, an exciting 2–2 draw between Spain and South Korea, with the Red Devils scoring two goals in the final six minutes to salvage a point. With rush hour traffic dissipating, and needing to get to my night’s lodging on the eastern side of Lake Michigan, I headed south out of the city. I didn’t get too far, though, before realizing that I had had too much to drink, so I stopped at Comiskey Park on Chicago’s South Side to watch a few innings of the baseball game between the White Sox and California Angels, to eat some ballpark food, and to drink some coffee.
Sufficiently sober, I resumed my drive down the interstate and around the south side of the lake, listening to game five of the NBA Finals between the New York Knicks and Houston Rockets. As I entered southwestern Michigan, though, the game was interrupted–-to cover the slow speed car chase along the Los Angeles freeways with Al Cowlings driving a white Ford Bronco and his wife’s suspected murderer, O.J. Simpson, in the back seat. Stopping at a Holiday Inn bar off the highway with the hope of seeing the rest of the game (which the Knicks ultimately won), proved frustrating as NBC and Tom Brokaw had also interrupted the game broadcast, reduced to a small inset box on the television screen, to follow the car chase.
Reaching my Benton Harbor hotel room sooner vs. later was okay, though, as I had an early wake-up call the next morning: The USA’s opening match against Switzerland–with kickoff at 11:30 AM–would take place at the Pontiac Silverdome, the first indoor stadium to host a World Cup match. With another hot, humid day brewing as I made the four hour trip to Pontiac, I wondered whether the stadium would be air conditioned. No such luck, though. The atmosphere was stultifying, especially as I took my seat in the 300 level of the stadium just before kickoff. The main benefit of my corner location, above the Swiss goal, was a prime view of Eric Wynalda’s golazo just before the end of the first half. His direct kick over the wall skimmed the underside of the crossbar and dropped into the upper left corner of the goal, eluding the desperate dive of the Swiss keeper, Marco Pascolo, whose disbelieving shake of his head is still priceless more than thirty years later. Wynalda’s incredible strike equalized the free kick goal by Switzerland’s Georges Bregy just five minutes earlier, and ultimately yielded a point that would be critical in the USA’s advancing to the second round.
AWESOME Story Tomas…
Many “Happy Returns” to that and Future Experiences….
What a “Beautiful Game” we Share.!!!
I took my 3 year old son to the US v Switzerland game. I was very concerned that the US would lack fan support (as we often were outnumbered by visitor’s fans when we played at home in that era). I remember the giant flag (yeah, I was impressed…) and of course, during the game, the Swiss fans had those stupid cowbells they rang (yeah, kudos to them on that one as well). So when the Swiss scored, and the crowd erupted, I feared it was evidence of us once again being outnumbered in a home event. But then Eric Wynalda hit that beautiful goal, and the roar from the crowd was many times greater than it had been for the Swiss goal. The US support was strong.
I was also worried about attendance at the WC generally; I was concerned because so many other sports drew more fans than soccer, we might be embarrassed by empty stadiums. On our drive back to Pittsburgh after the game, we stopped after about 2 hrs to get something to eat in the middle of nowhere in Ohio, and the restaurant was filled with people who had been at the game. It was that weekend that I realized that soccer had turned a corner and had a good chance to make it as a major sport in the US.
Was at the opener, with a ticket only a few rows back from President Clinton. One of the highlights was when Diana Ross, after her performance(s) refused to stay because she wasn’t seated close enough to the president.
Also had a one-on-one talk on the concourse during halftime with a soccer fan, and tenor, by the name of Jose Carreras. But that’s another story.