Ah, the 1970 World Cup in Mexico. A tournament that had everyone, from players to pundits, collectively mopping their brows before a ball had even been kicked. The twin spectres of searing heat and lung-bursting altitude loomed large, demanding revolutionary preparation. And some nations, bless their cotton socks, delivered. Just perhaps not in the way they intended.
Take Bulgaria, for instance. Faced with the unique physiological challenges of Mexico, their authorities hatched a plan so daring, so 'outside the box', it had to be... well, a bit daft. Their solution? A high-altitude training camp in the Pirin Mountains, south of Sofia. Logical, you might think, to prepare for several thousand feet above sea level.
What could possibly go wrong? Only, someone, presumably after several days of shivering, noticed a minor, almost imperceptible detail: while Mexico was expected to be a balmy mid-20s Celsius, the Pirin Mountains were, shall we say, a tad nippy. Closer to freezing, in fact. A slight discrepancy in ambient temperature, one might argue.
But fear not, for the Bulgarian boffins were not to be deterred by such trivialities! If they couldn't replicate the heat, they could replicate the *effects* of heat. How, you ask? By severely restricting the players' water intake. Because nothing says 'optimal athletic performance' like voluntarily induced dehydration in sub-zero temperatures, right? A true testament to scientific rigour, or perhaps, sheer stubbornness.
Unsurprisingly, this pioneering approach yielded precisely the results one might expect. Bulgaria promptly lost their first two World Cup group games and were on the earliest flight home, eliminated before they’d even had a chance to properly rehydrate, following a draw with Morocco. It’s almost as if the human body prefers to be adequately watered, even when cold.
Other nations, perhaps less creatively 'inspired', opted for slightly more conventional methods. Israel jetted off to Ethiopia and Colorado, sensibly seeking out actual altitude. Uruguay did similar, playing in Quito and Bogotá. Even the host nation, Mexico, embarked on a marathon five-month training camp that featured 13 friendly internationals in four months, followed by a couple of games against the Scottish side Dundee United. One can only imagine the Dundee lads' travel expenses.
While we can safely assume today's World Cup preparations are a *smidgen* more sophisticated – probably involving actual climate chambers and not, say, a very cold mountain and a ban on liquids – the tale of Bulgaria in '70 serves as a salutary reminder. Sometimes, even with the best intentions (or the most bewildering logic), a 'genius' plan is just a one-way ticket to early elimination and a desperate thirst.