The man proudly stands in the cramped dressing room. There’s a damp smell in the air, a mix of rain, mud and sweat. The assembled press pack surround him, notepads at the ready. He chooses his words carefully, delivering them in the accent his father gave him, that of the Black Country of England’s midlands, despite a childhood spent on Merseyside. ‘There they are’ he motions to his players, gently setting up his next line, ‘the Champions of the World.’^

The ‘they’ were Wolverhampton Wanderers, the Champions of England, of that there was no doubt. Now Wolves had won 3-2 against Honvéd of Budapest, the Army team which served as a de facto incubator for the Mighty Magyars of the Hungarian National Team.

The man who gave them their new title was 38-year-old Stan Cullis. Already a legend as a player at Wolves, he was now well on the way to achieving the same status as manager. In an outstanding career that saw him named England captain at 22, win three league titles and two FA Cups, he considered this victory his finest moment.

The match was the highlight of a series of friendlies Wolves had hosted beneath their state-of-the-art floodlights following their installation in 1953. Costing the club £25,000, Cullis, had personally overseen their installation. Floodlights opened up the opportunity for midweek games, allowing clubs to increase revenues at a time when gate receipts were the primary source of income and foreign opposition provided the perfect draw to lure spectators.

Appetite for the curiosities of overseas football had been satiated by the 1945 Dynamo Moscow tour. Arranged in the brief post-war, pre-Cold War glow of British-Soviet relations, the Russian Champions played to capacity crowds in London, Cardiff and Glasgow. They beat an Arsenal side featuring guests Stanley Matthews and Stan Mortenson and drew with Chelsea and Rangers. In all three games, the British teams struggled to deal with Dynamo’s fast-paced passing game. ‘They flash the ball from man to man in bewildering fashion, often while standing still,’ recalled Chelsea and England forward Tommy Lawton.

Wolves would create an extensive schedule of matches over the next five years, which would see some of Europe’s best clubs visit Molineux. Prior to Honved, they had seen off Celtic, Racing (Argentina), First Vienna, Maccabi Tel-Aviv and, one month prior, Spartak Moscow, Russia’s dominant team, 4-0. The Spartak game had remained 0-0 for most of the game, but Wolves struck four times in the last ten minutes giving the result a gloss it did not warrant. Still, Wolves were now ready for the big test.

Though Hungary did not win the 1954 World Cup cruelly, letting a two-goal lead slip against West Germany, they were widely considered the best team on the planet. Famously, England had been humbled by the Hungarians 6-3. only one year previous. Their first defeat at Wembley to foreign opposition. The misery was compounded earlier in 1954 when they lost 7-1 in Budapest. The Hungarians were the standard-bearers for the next wave of Danubian power, taking the mantle of the Austrian Wunderteam, but this time they were also representatives and products of the Socialist State. Six of the starters at Wembley in 1953, would start for Honved in the English Midlands.

Wolves would wear specially produced shirts for the occasion. Lighter and brighter, they would shimmer under the lights, illuminating the players on the field. It wasn’t just the 55,000 inside Molineux who would watch. The second-half would be broadcast live on the BBC, pigeon-holed between Science Review and Music for You. For a nation usually only served up the FA Cup Final and England Internationals, this was a rare treat. A young George Best, without a television of his own, kicked a ball outside his neighbour’s house, hoping to be invited in to watch the action.

If the whole affair exuded a post-war futuristic glamour, Cullis did his bit to ensure that there was still an authentic English element. Wolverhampton had endured four days of rain and prior to kick-off and youth players were sent out with watering cans to top it off. It was described by the Daily Mail as ‘like a cattle ground at the end of a four-day show in the rain.’ It did not, however, slow the thoroughbreds of Honved, at least initially. Within 15 minutes, they were two goals to the good, courtesy of Kocsis and Machos. Footage of the game illustrates Honved’s calmness on the ball and careful selection of passing.

Slowly Wolves worked their way back into the game. Cullis was a firm believer in getting the ball quickly from back to front and getting crosses into the box. He was ahead of his time in many aspects, with an intense focus on fitness and employing the Wing Commander Charles Reep to analyse games statistically. He liked to cut through perceived media biases both domestically and abroad and believed the idea that it was short passing that did for England in the 6-3 game to be ‘a great Hungarian myth’, noting the number of long passes that the visitors had played. Though the pitch played its part in stopping Honved, Wolves high intensity, direct approach in front of a partisan crowd bore the hallmarks of future memorable European nights across the UK.

They halved the deficit via an extremely soft penalty, won, and converted, by Johnny Hancocks after 49 minutes. Honved held on but their defence was breached twice in two minutes. Roy Swinbourne levelled in the 75th minute with a trademark downward header and followed up with a winner a minute later. Wilshaw playing him through and he drilled a first-time shot past Lajos Faragó.

‘Hail Wolves ‘Champions of the world’ now’ proclaimed the Daily Mail borrowing Cullis’s post-game remarks. The sub-headline, ‘England’s Masters win in the mud’ may have had more validity however. ‘The genuine, original, unbeatable article … still the best of its kind in the world’ said the Daily Express in no less hyperbolic fashion.

It’s not clear if amongst the thousands in the crowd, anyone recognised the grey-haired Frenchman watching on. If Cullis and the Press had been looking for a reaction, they got their response in the papers of the world’s foremost sporting newspaper two days after the fixture. Whether they read it was another question.

‘Non Wolverhampton, n’est pas encore le ‘champion du monde des clubs’! (No Wolverhampton is not yet the club world champion!)’ screamed the headline from the Parisian daily L’Equipe. The words came from the pen of special correspondent Gabriel Hanot, one of France’s most influential football personalities.

It was the sub-headline, however, that would change football:

‘But L’Equipe launches the idea of a European Clubs Championship, the realisation of which will be better and more sensational than that of the European National Teams Championship.’

One can only wonder what would have happened if Stan Cullis hadn’t watered the pitch that night? If Honved had continued how they started and secured a comfortable victory? If the British press had been more reserved in their praise of Wolves? Perhaps the occasion itself would have been enough to whet the appetite for a regular competition and Hanot would have penned a similar article, post-game.But it’s hard not to think that the over-zealous reaction from the UK newspapers played a part in the desire to create a vehicle to settle debate.

The English and British FAs had maintained a self-image as guardians of the game, looking down their nose at the continental upstarts, for whom the unwarranted and expired arrogance would prove infuriating. It was convenient for them to avoid competitions that aimed to settle debates. One-off challenge matches (mainly at home) were far more likely to maintain the illusion of superiority. The two wins over World Champions Italy in 1934 (the Battle of Highbury) and in 1948 proved after all that England remained the best team in the World despite being humbled in their first World Cup appearance in 1950 and failing in their first two outings to get past the quarter-finals. They had been well beaten by the Hungarians twice within a year, home and away and here they were, after a couple of wins at home, in the mud and rain, announcing their domestic champions as the best in the World. This was most effectively illustrated by Clifford Webb in the Daily Herald who wrote in his match report: ‘Wolves showed that English football on an English pitch in an English season is still good enough for anybody in the world.’

This, Mr Webb, was exactly the point.

Willy Meisl, the journalist and brother of the pioneering Hugo, noted that earlier in the month Honved had been beaten by Red Star Belgrade, seventh in the Yugoslav league well behind leaders Partizan and ‘no one called Partizan champions of the world.’

Hanot had long been an advocate for a pan-European club competition, first proposing the idea in 1934. An excellent player in his day who won twelve caps for France, Hanot was the driving force behind implementing professionalism in France. He played an important role in the French football association, becoming national manager following the war, and organising the first coaching courses. His articles in L’Equipe and its sister publication, France Football became a platform for him to shape the footballing landscape in France and beyond. Notably, his 1949 piece, following Les Bleus failure to qualify for the 1950 World Cup, called for wide scale reform within French football and the removal of the manager: Hanot himself.

Hanot was supported in his initiative by colleagues Jacques Ferran and the Head of the Football Department, Jacques de Ryswick, a veteran of European football journalism.

The article laid out the simple concept in a couple of sentences:

‘Before we declare that Wolverhampton are invincible,let them go to Moscow and Budapest. And there are other internationally renowned clubs: Milan and Real Madrid to name but two. A club world championship, or at least a European one – larger, more meaningful and more prestigious than the Mitropa Cup.’

The journalists saw themselves as stakeholders, with a part to play in shaping the game. This was not uncommon at the time and the French especially had a long-standing tradition of developing sporting institutions and competitions. Pierre de Coubertin, a Parisian academic and educator, had created the modern Olympics in 1896, and was IOC President from 1896 until 1925. The predecessor of L’Equipe, L’Auto started the Tour de France in 1903, adding the famous yellow jersey in 1919 for the leading racer to reflect the yellow paper it was printed on. And, of course in football, it was the French and Jules Rimet who were the driving force behind the creation of FIFA and the World Cup.

L’Equipe had the legitimate voice to have their ideas respectfully considered, the platform to raise awareness and generate buzz, the connections to have conversations with the important clubs and associations and the motivation to make it happen and they were able to have the proposal covered in many influential newspapers across Europe. Of course, from a financial perspective, more games to cover equals more papers to sell, and with their extensive network of foreign reporters, they would be in the perfect position to provide unrivalled coverage of the games across the continent.

Hanot’s original article was published the day following the Wolves v Honved match – December 14th. Two days later, de Ryswick sketched an extensive proposal for the competition. As Ferran recalls:

‘He (de Ryswick) actually designed the European Cup and said, ‘Why don’t we set this competition up?’ The very next day, we got to work. We consulted the big European clubs to see whether they would buy into our idea and would be interested in taking part in the competition. Nine times out of ten we got a response, either via the special reporters that we dispatched to foreign capitals and major cities or through the post or over the phone,and we published the responses as we received them.’^

L’Equipe’s network of correspondents gave them access to decision makers across the continent, allowing them to generate enthusiasm for the project. They did this via a weekly specialised series with writers reporting back favourably about the proposal’s reception throughout Europe. As detailed in his extensive paper ‘A Competition that Shook European Football: The Origins of the European Champion Clubs’ Cup, 1954–1955’ historian Phillipe Vonnard, noted that De Ryswick could write in his December 30th column, two weeks after Hanot’s initial article, that ‘the European championship is not a pipe dream! It is making its way towards the ‘ideal formula.’ The next month, they announced they would publish the rules of the competition.

Within a short amount of time, Hanot, De Reyswick and Ferran had turned an idea into action. Their location in the heart of Europe, extensive network, wide circulation and lack of regional bias helped build great momentum from the public and the clubs. This created an issue for the federations and governing bodies, notoriously sceptical of anything that may affect their own interests. On the flip side, L’Equipe ultimately knew that they could not run the competition, and the clubs were reluctant to confirm their participation without approval from their national associations. If the competition was to build on its early promise, someone would need to step into the breech and unite all the factions.

Dealing with the positive responses to their venture, L’Equipe made its first official approaches to authority in early February 1955. They went to FIFA. Based in Europe and with over 50 years of governing experience, it was the obvious choice. Unfortunately, for the journalists and for future FIFA Presidents who would find themselves desperate to access the money tree of club competitions, the response was a no. Belgian President Rodolphe Seeldrayers, noted in his response that FIFA’s statues had no provision for tournaments between clubs and thus such a competition ‘does not depend on the prior authorisation of FIFA, the statutes of which only apply to competitions between teams representing national associations.’ Seeldrayers directed them towards the newly formed Union of European Football Associations (UEFA).

Visit the UEFA website now and the first item on the menu bar is the UEFA Champions League. Since its rebranding in 1992, UEFA has ensured its brand and that of its signature competition are synonymous. The competition provides the bulk of UEFA revenues and its slick marketing has created a juggernaut propelling Western Europe’s clubs and countries to an unassailable position at the head of football’s long queue. It’s hard to think of a world without UEFA and the European Cup/Champions League. But it did exist.

The need for a European association was borne from the growth of the game across the globe. FIFA had effectively fulfilled the same role as when it was formed, but most of its new members were now coming from outside Europe. Between 1946 and 1950, 21 countries joined, only seven of which were within Europe and those numbers are skewed by the fact it was the four British home nations (who had been in and out many times by now), and another was the administrative territory of Saarland, between France and Germany. This brought the total members up to 84, with Europe representing 31 of those. It would not be until the break-up of the Soviet Union that FIFA started adding European members again in numbers.

The South American associations had already established their own confederation in 1916: the Confederación Sudamericana de Fútbol (CONMEBOL) which managed the Copa Sudamericana (precursor to the Copa America) and in 1948 the South American Championship of Champions for clubs (itself an inspiration to Hanot, Ferran and De Ryswick). It also provided them a voting bloc within FIFA. Despite having a major influence on the game, there are only 10 nations in the South American association, and historically, they fought to ensure their voice was heard within Euro-centric FIFA. Away from the traditional powers, there was mobilisation to create a Pan-African association as small unions had been forming, which ultimately led to the creation of the Confederation of African Football in 1957.

The FIFA congress in November 1953 recognised these developments leading to a restructure of the executive committee, which saw direct election undertaken by the regional bodies, i.e. confederations. The European group was given two spots on the Executive committee, hence the need to create a European confederation to select these members.

In spring 1954, the European associations met to determine the nature of their organisation. 31 nations were invited, 22 of which attended, notably the Soviet Bloc nations (except for Hungary and Czechoslovakia) sent their apologies. Turkey was not included as FIFA had determined their headquarters lay on the Asian side of the Bosphorus and thus they were not considered to be part of Europe. The Union of European Football Associations was named in October 1954 with the first congress was to be held in Vienna in March 1955. Ebbe Schwartz, President of the Danish FA was named as the First President.

Hanot and Ferran presented their proposal to the UEFA members at the original congress but received a lukewarm response. According to UEFA’s own publication to commemorate 60 years: ‘The assembly heard them out but told them it was up to the ‘associations to give their clubs permission to participate in such an event.’^

Whilst this seems to be quite remarkable given that the Champions League has become UEFA’s golden goose, it is understandable given the following conditions. Firstly, this was an entirely new body. The primary reason for establishment was based around electing representatives to the FIFA executive committee. As a result, there was a significant number of discussions to be had as to what the organisation wished its primary functions to be in its first congress. Secondly, following the example of FIFA, governing bodies had up to that point only served national teams and not the club game. Those represented at the meetings represented national associations and not clubs. Lastly, UEFA’s primary focus on competitions was related to developing a cup for the nations, to follow the South American example.

There was also another concern over the number of club competitions. At this point the Copa Latina was in its prime, the Mitropa Cup had begun plans to return and FIFA was set to launch the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. Supported by Stanley Rous and the Italian administrator Otto Barassi the competition was designed to strengthen business ties, alongside footballing, between cities which hosted trade fairs. As the competition was not related to clubs, i.e. a London XI played in the first incarnation, it was not suspect to the same want for regulation from a governing body. Ultimately, the format was not overly successful, the first run of the competition taking three years, and subsequently, it would be rebranded as the UEFA Cup and open to club teams.

Undeterred by the slow chains of bureaucratic process, Hanot, De Ryswick and Ferran decided once more they would take matters into their own hands after their disappointing meeting with UEFA. They began a series of initiatives that would fulfil De Ryswick’s statement that this was ‘no pipe dream’. They would attack on two fronts.

First, they continued to detail the progress on the format of the competition publicly and put pressure on FIFA and UEFA, indirectly, to oversee the tournament, Ferran writing in early March that the competition ‘is imposing itself, clear for all to see. But it is looking for a place to land. It would seem that despite certain more or less acknowledged and more or less acknowledgeable obstructions, it will not look around much further.’^

Second, behind the scenes, they arranged a meeting with the clubs they had identified to take part and received positive responses from all to attend. Hibernian of Scotland stated their agreement but did not attend whilst Dynamo Moscow declined the opportunity, owing to the harshness of the Russian winter, although it is likely that Cold War tensions played a part in this decision.

The club selections were likely firmed up in February when L’Equipe presented their idea to FIFA. Whilst FIFA did not respond positively to the concept, it allowed the journalists the opportunity to get in front of representatives of National Associations and raise awareness. A case in point is the eventual Scottish selection of Hibernian F.C. Their chairman Harry Swan was also President of the Scottish Football Association. Hibs had been touring Europe for several years and had won two successive Scottish titles in the early part of the decade, but had finished fifth in 52/53 and would do the same in 53/54. That they were chosen to compete was almost certainly a product of Swan’s connections and awareness of Hibernian amongst the L’Equipe staff. It has been suggested that eventual Scottish Champions Aberdeen turned down the invitation to play, but the timelines simply don’t add up for them to have even been invited.

A higher profile example is FC Barcelona. They had originally been approached to be the Spanish representative by L’Equipe’s Spanish correspondent, Carlos Pardo. The Catalans who had enjoyed success in the Copa Latina declined as they could not see the project getting off the ground. Pardo, then contacted Raimundo Saporta, the Vice President of Real Madrid, who invited him to Spanish Capital the next day. The rest is history.

Chelsea’s selection as the English representative was interesting. At the time of the meeting, the Blues were leading the English Division 1 but only by two points over Wolves, with the latter having two games in hand. Perhaps a London club was preferred or maybe Hanot was putting Wolves in their place after their vociferous claims after the Honved match.

In the novel Thunderball, Ian Fleming placed the headquarters of the International crime organisation SPECTRE on the Boulevard Haussmann in Paris. It was on those tree-lined avenues at the Ambassador Hotel in the Gobelins meeting room that a group of journalists and club officials met to create their own plan for world domination. They did it in one weekend.

L’Equipe had secured the backing of the Groupement des Clubs Autorisés (GCA), the association of French Professional Clubs and its Vice-President Ernest Bredignans chaired the meetings, providing an official air to proceedings. The rules of the competition were ratified on the first day, with a section added on the financial terms of the competition and on day two, they selected the first set of matches. This was done in order to navigate some political minefields and the only occasion in the competition’s history where a blind draw was not employed. The schedule was featured in newspapers across Europe and the European Cup was now established.

Crucially, the organising committee was set up with Bredignans as Chairman and Vice-Presidents of Gusztáv Sebes and Santiago Bernabéu. Of the two, Sebes, the Hungarian coach, was certainly the more famous of the time, representing one of the foremost footballing cultures. He was also a Vice-President of UEFA. Bernabéu had become Real Madrid President in 1943 and was embarking on a major rebuilding project which had seen him sign the Argentine superstar Alfredo Di Stéfano and clinch only their third league championship in 1954. That the two men represented East and West and showed that the competition was one for all of Europe and above political mechanizations.

Announcement of the meeting, the impending schedule and influential figures involved sent UEFA into a panic and an emergency meeting was held in May. They requested FIFA adjudicate on whether the competition be allowed to proceed.

FIFA’s authorised the competition as long as three conditions were met:

1. Clubs must be approved by their national association to compete
2. UEFA must organise and take responsibility for it
3. The name European Cup could not be used and must be reserved for a National team tournament involving European Nations. (Ironically, only a month earlier, their idea for a European Cup of Nations had been rejected by the countries.)

UEFA had now been handed a competition to run, and they maintained much of the original plan. Their only changes were that there be a blind draw for all subsequent rounds and the participation of League Champions only, following the inaugural season. The name chosen based on FIFA’s requirements was the European Champion Clubs’ Cup.

Before the action began, there was one major controversy. England, the country that prompted Hanot’s original article would not be represented. Chelsea, now crowned Champions, withdrew in late July of 1955 after the matter came before the Football League management committee. Unlike the FA, the Football League were not members of UEFA or FIFA, and their sole focus was on maintaining the sovereignty of their own competition.

As Matthew Taylor has illustrated, the Football League ‘had maintained a consistent stand in opposing any arrangements which might affect the competition it ran: refusing to rearrange Arsenal’s fixtures when they toured the Soviet Union in 1954; censuring Tottenham for playing a match in Denmark the day after an important league fixture; and objecting to clubs allowing the broadcast of floodlit friendlies when other clubs had domestic matches.’^

Chelsea’s Chairman Joe Mears also held the same position at the Football League, however the power lay with the secretary Alan Hardaker, a noted isolationist. Suggestions had been made that the reduced attendances in the 1954-55 season could be attributed to additional games played during the week. Hardaker also cited a rule that gave the Football League the option to veto club matches against foreign teams. In the end, when the vote was put to the committee, the decision was made that Chelsea’s participation was ‘not in the best interest of the League’. Mears, despite having a vote, was unable, or unwilling, to affect the outcome. Hardaker would later recall that the committee ‘decided [the European Cup] was something of a joke and, at best, a nine days’ wonder. It took them just fifteen minutes to decide that they did not want Chelsea… to take part in the first European Cup.’^

Chelsea would be replaced by the Polish side Gwardia Warsaw, one of seven teams not domestic champions. The others were Hibernian (Scotland), Partizan Belgrade (Yugoslavia), PSV Eindhoven (Netherlands), Servette (Switzerland), Sporting Lisbon (Portugal), and, completing the field Saarbrücken, at the time part of the post-war Saar Protectorate but which would in 1957 become part of West Germany. The nine Champions selected were Aarhus (Denmark), Anderlecht (Belgium), Djurgårdens (Sweden), Milan (Italy), Rapid Vienna (Austria), Stade Reims (France), Real Madrid (Spain), Rot-Weiss Essen (West Germany), and Voros Lobogo (Hungary).

In less than a year the European Cup had gone from newspaper theory to a living, breathing competition backed by footballing authority. It was now time for the cream to rise to the top. And for one club, and two men, the timing was everything.