The infamous 6-3 demolition of England by Ferenc Puskas’ Magical Maygars at Wembley in 1953 counts among English football’s darkest days. Walter Winterbottom’s national side had never lost to continental opposition on home soil, not counting a 2-0 defeat to Ireland in 1949 at Goodison Park, and despite a lacklustre showing at the 1950 world cup, which included an equally embarrassing 1-0 defeat to the USA, papers and public refused to see England as anything other than standard bearers of world football.  Gusztav Sebes’ revolutionary Hungarian side’s comprehensive victory exposed the rampant arrogance and complacency within English football, the result serving as a haunting reminder that Great Britain was no longer the master of a sport over which it claimed ownership. Six months later a far less heralded but equally damning game between the two sides compounded England’s misery and ended with a now all too familiar score line.

Oscar’s utter dejection in scoring ‘the most pointless goal in world cup history’, Captain David Luiz’s tear soaked cheeks and reddening eyes as he was led from the pitch at full time and Toni Kroos’ astonished, almost apologetic reaction as he celebrated coolly guiding home Germany’s third of seven, have all rapidly become enduring images of a World Cup that will eternally be remembered for one result. Although it was truly a wonderful festival of football on the whole and may have gone quite some way to restoring the prestige and relevance of football’s world championships, and the international game in general, but the eight goals scored at the Estadio Mineirao that day amount to arguably the most momentous result in the sport’s history.

Brazil’s demise cast the health of the national game in sharp relief. The sheer delightful football of Pele’s or Zico’s Brazil is undeniably dead, the domestic game is a catastrophic mess of outdated and pointless state championships and selfish political manoeuvrings while an overt strategy aimed at capitalising upon the huge potential for young talent across the country is practically non-existent. Dramatic World Cup semi final humiliation aside, a number of comparisons could be drawn between Brazilian football and the current state of the English game. Insufficient youth development, domestic competitions obstructing the national side and an increasingly routine and humbling failure to live up to high expectations imposed by the media and fans, which appear to be based on little more than the shadow of previous successes and a sense of entitlement, are dilemmas nothing new to the average England supporter.

However, while realisation of the Selecao’s shortcomings has only relatively recently begun to dawn on the Brazilian people, although keen observers may argue that their previously ubiquitous reputation for the flair and fantasy of samba football has scarcely been earned since Spain 82, England have been struggling with their own problems for far longer. May 23rd 1954, Budapest: Hungary 7 England 1. The result served to only compound frustrations and help instil the malaise that is all too prevalent today, a match that still represents England’s heaviest defeat in over a century and a half of international football.

While the earlier encounter with the 1952 Olympic champions at Wembley in November 1953 was billed in England as ‘The Match of the Century’, criticism widespread in the wake of the defeat and praise lavished on the Hungarian team after their unerringly devastating display, the return meeting in Budapest has gone relatively unmentioned since. At the time, the previously vociferous English press responded with the now customary reaction that defeat had always been inevitable. In Hungary spring 54 however, the mood was markedly different.

“Two months before the match I had to change my telephone number. Day and night I was being called by every friend and acquaintance. They all expected me to get them a ticket for the great occasion. […] Some fans who were lucky enough to get a ticket went into the ground with racing pigeons in their pockets. As soon as they reached their places, they tied the ticket to the pigeon’s foot and released the bird to fly out to a waiting friend.” Recalls the Hungary’s greatest player, Ferenc Puskas, in his autobiography ‘Captain of Hungary’.

Written and released in the mid-fifties before the uprising of 1956 and his subsequent spell at Real Madrid, Puskas delivers an honest and intelligent account of Hungarian football’s rise through the post war years and of their travels and triumphs around the globe. It is laced with his renowned lack of modesty and an unwavering self-assurance. However, Puskas’ writing also portrays him as an honourable, respectful and thoughtful individual, recounting wistful and wide-eyed tales of the Aranycsapat’s (meaning Golden Squad) tours overseas. He delightfully quips; “I know far less about writing than scoring goals. But I will do my best, and hope that readers may decide that perhaps I can at least write better than some famous authors could play football.”

Meanwhile in England, the approaching contest was met with trepidation, gritted teeth and little more than forced hope. A mood far from the bulshy arrogance of the papers and pundits before the meeting at Wembley the previous year. “Sleeves up, Finney it CAN be done” insisted the headline in the Daily Express on Saturday May 22^nd. Fifty years before David Beckham’s injured foot was splashed across the front of the Sun and Rooney’s childish red card in Montenegro, English hopes were already being rested on one man. “Keep your fingers crossed. Touch wood. And don’t walk under ladders for the next 48 hours.” Began the Express’ correspondent Desmond Hackett; “The soccer men of England need all the luck that is going when they tackle Hungary on Sunday.”

Hackett’s appraisal of Guzstav Sebes’ outfit on the other hand was quite different from his reactionary heaping of responsibility onto the shoulders of Preston North End’s Tom Finney. Disgruntled, he reports; “I have just returned the final workout of the Hungarians […] there I saw 20 Stanley Matthews. Men who can do things with the ball that would be top-of-the-bill stuff at the Palladium. Not one man but every man was a complete artist.” Sounding increasingly terrified, Hackett’s arguments for an England victory – pointing to Finney and ‘Battler of Belgrade’ Ivor Broadis – are half hearted at best, eventually admitting; “Right now – I hate having to say this – I cannot see a great deal of hope for England. […] Best we can hope for is a sleeves-up piece of resistance.”

Whereas Mirror Sport’s Bob Ferrier is far more realistic and even cynical about England’s chances; “England, this England – this perplexed and preoccupied England team which has feverish bouts of optimism and pessimism by turn goes into action”. Even then England’s inconsistency, relative lack of ability and an unbalanced squad where to be combated with the usual hustle, bustle and rolled up sleeves when faced with technically gifted international opposition. Eventually Ferrier concludes that “perhaps the instinctive and immediate thing to say about this match is that it is a happy thought that only a tight little band of visiting Englishmen will see the debacle. All logic points to an easy Hungarian win – perhaps by three or four goals.” He was close, but still fell short in his prediction.

Feverish excitement built ahead of the meeting at the Nepstadion. The ‘People’s Stadium’s’ capacity was enlarged to accommodate 54,000 fans, although the actual attendance pushed 100,000, adding to an atmosphere that Hackett described as a “boiling cauldron of fiercely-partisan excitement”. England started apprehensively, losing possession direct from kick-off which saw Hungary pour forward with their now familiar verve and pace to threaten England keeper Gill Merrick’s goal within the first 15 seconds. An early reminder of the previous meeting, when deep lying forward Nandor Hidegkuti had put Sebes’ men ahead inside the first minute. England’s mind-set coming into the meeting was certainly questionable. Perhaps they too saw little chance of victory even before the match had begun, as Puskas comments – “In contrast to our previous meeting, it was England who looked depressed when they arrived in Budapest. Probably we looked the same in London, but there was this difference: England seemed to be without hope or ambition.”

Hungary eased in a 3-0 lead within the first quarter. Puskas feigning to allow left back Mihaly Lantos to drive home the opener from a free kick which fizzed past Merrick on 10 minutes, Puskas doubled the lead from close range seven minutes later shortly before strike partner Sandor Kocsis made it three with an effortless left footed finish from just inside the area. By all accounts England were dramatically outplayed and woefully outclassed through the first period, barely threatening eccentric goalkeeper Gyila Grosics’ goal. “After that our forward line settled into its stride”, explains Puskas. “We kept play in our opponents half and maintained constant pressure on their goal. The England attack never showed signs of developing.”

Winterbottom’s side improved marginally after the break but their brief hopes of regaining some pride were finally extinguished as outside left Zoltan Czibor and future Barcelona team mate Kocsis broke away after a poor England corner to seal the victory, Kocsis easily slotting home for 4-0. By the time Broadis had collected England’s consolation, smashing home on the half-volley 11 minutes later, Jozsef Toth had already bundled home to add to Hungary’s haul, while Hidegkuti added to his Wembley hat trick, beating Merrick at his near post as England collapsed. Puskas tucked home the final goal of the game on 71 minutes to compound England’s embarrassment. 7-1, “which most of the sports writers and international authorities considered a true reflection of the play.” Hungary’s captain, slightly smugly, informs his readers.

Although the coverage was not as prominent as it had been for “The 6-3”, as the Hunagrian’s refer the match at Wembley, the words we equally cutting. “This is not so much a report as a requiem to mourn the passing of England’s football greatness. It is a sad story of a team ruthlessly and scientifically dissected and strewn around the People’s Stadium today.” Opens Hackett in Monday’s Express. The Mirror neglects to afford any prominence to the defeat in its sports pages at all, instead leading with Gordon Pirie’s record victory time in the Surrey Mile. Hungary’s performance had indeed been universally praised however while England were again comprehensively condemned. “Hungary had forgotten nothing and England hadn’t learnt a thing.” World Sports editor Willy Meisl writes, “They were no match for Hungary’s forwards and they were no more successful in clearing the ball than they were at Wembley”, concluding that “football needs to be played in the Hungarian style.” While in Reuters’ Vernon Morgan’s opinion “the Hungarian team played even better than they did at Wembley. I would say that they could have scored far more goals, and I don’t think they need have any fears about taking part in the World Championship.” While even Walter Winterbottom concedes that “the Hungarian’s deserved to win – even by that score. We were completely outclassed.”

English football had once more been shown to be outdated, predictable, stubborn to a fault and lacking in the wherewithal to develop a modern competitive side. Where England toiled in their “unskilled labour” as Hackett put it, Hungary were artists and master craftsmen, taking the game to new heights – an example for England to learn from. “When I saw you play Hungary at Wembley I thought then that England will learn the lesson that her football is no longer in fashion. But you learn nothing”, writes bemused Gazzetta Dello Sport reporter Gianni Bera, “You try to beat this Hungarian team with the same technique that failed you so dramatically at Wembley. That does not make sense to me.”

This antiquated and futile ‘technique’ Bera referred to was England’s perpetual use of the ‘W-M’, the 3-2-5 formation, throughout the football league and national sides. Variation was almost unheard of at the time, to the point where shirt numbers became the definition of their positions, while the reliance on pacey, tricky wingers was an absolute. English football had clung onto it’s trusted footballing family air loom for far too long and had been woefully exposed by the tactical revolution of Sebes. Along with his successor Marton Bukovi and the enigmatic Bela Guttmann, Sebes formed a triumvirate of Hungarian coaches who would rethink the way the game could be played and would go on have a long lasting impact on modern strategic thinking.

Sebes dropped the W-M’s central forward, the number 9, in this case Nandor Hudegkuti, into a role that would now resemble a more modern attacking midfielder, allowing the inside fowards of Puskas and Kocsis to form a striking partnership. Of the two half backs in midfield, Jozsef Bozsik was pushed closer to Hudegkuti to form a central creative midfield pair, while Zakarias, another Jozsef, moved into a deeper position closer to centre back Gyula Lorant. With the only remaining living member from ‘The 6-3’, Jeno Buzanszky, at right full back, Lantos on the other side and Czibor and Toth kept as more traditional outside forwards, Sebes’ new line up was verging on a 4-2-4 formation, or even 4-4-2.

Just as at Wembley, Hudegkuti was able to drop-off England’s solitary centre back Syd Owen at the base of the ‘M’, leaving the Luton Town defender with a conundrum. He could either follow Hungary’s number 9 up field, aiming to nullify the creative flow, thus leaving space for Puskas and Kocsis to exploit in behind, and without a centre back partner to cover, the English defence would be left venerable. Alternatively, Owen could stay in position between full backs Ron Staniforth and Roger Byrne, although this would afford Hudegkuti the space and time in front of the defence to pick his passes and cause havoc, much as a number 10 might do today. The rigidity of the English set up meant that, without help, Owen (not to mention Harry Johnson the previous November) were overwhelmed and outmanoeuvred, unable to combat Hungary’s evolved forward line. A leading cause attributed to the astonishing 13-4 aggregate result.

Hungary went on to lose a controversial World Cup final later that year. Despite taking a 2-0 lead against Germany, Puskas and the Magical Maygars were eventually pegged back and beaten 3-2. England on the other hand were left embarrassed in Budapest that day 60 years ago, just as Brazil were this summer. The Brazilian press were famously no less forgiving, Correio Braziliense’s headline read “A Shame for Eternity” the morning after their own 7-1 humiliation, O Globo rated every player zero out of 10 and O Dia told manager Feilpe Scolari to ‘go to hell’.

While even before England’s historic thrashing, Ferrier wrote in Saturday’s Mirror – “Our football a grossly commercialised business is on trial against their football, a science, a culture and an art at one and the same time”, decades before multimillion transfer fees, third party owners and parachute payments. Just as Winterbottom’s England did then, Roy Hodgson’s England face a raft of technically proficient cultured foreign opposition who commonly espouse a more nuanced ideology that supports their play and invest in the systematic production of younger players through that philosophy. England, and Brazil too, can take much from the way Germany entirely re-imagined their youth development policy over the last decade and from Spain’s unwavering focus on technical ability and protection of the ball. Much as there were lessons to learn from the Aranycsapat’s display across both fixtures in the 1950s.

However, “England’s problem goes much deeper”, explains Puskas, “there is not nearly sufficient unity in the team […,] individual ability alone is not sufficient and in any case the brilliance of the individual must be subordinated to the interests of the team. […] Unless they possess this truly united spirit… the eleven best football players will not make the best football XI. England’s players are excellent, but they have no idea how to cope as a team with any unorthodox situations which may arise. Their attacks are so obviously organised according to the textbook and it is easy for their opponents to recognise and take steps to counter their intentions.” Even six decades later, Puskas’ comments are strikingly relevant and seem to beg the question; if the great man was writing today, would he be saying anything different?