Antonin Panenka: The Euro 1976 penalty that killed a career and sparked a feud

At home, Panenka was involved in another, almost daily, punishment competition.

After training with his Prague club side Bohemians, Panenka and goalkeeper Zdenek Hruska will stay behind to practice spot-kicks.

It was a personal duel. Panenka had five penalties – he had to score all five, Hruska had to save just one. Whoever loses buys their post-training beer or chocolate.

“I always pay him,” Panenka said.

“So at night I would think of ways to beat him – that’s when I realized that when I ran the goalkeeper would wait for the last second and then gamble, dive left or right.

“I thought: ‘What if I send the ball almost directly into the center of the goal?'”

Panenka tried it. He found that introducing another possible punishment and some doubt into Hruska’s mind meant he won more, spent less and still got his post-training treat.

It could have stopped there and remained a piece of invisible showboating. But Panenka realized that his new technique was more than that. He dug up a legitimate 12-yard tactic.

Over the next couple of years, he tried it on bigger and bigger stages. First, in training, then friendlies and finally, the month before Euro 1976, against local rivals Dukla Prague in a competitive fixture.

Each time it worked and his conviction grew.

“I’m not hiding it,” Panenka said.

“Here (in Czechoslovakia) people know it.

“But in the western countries, in the leading football countries nobody is interested in Czechoslovak football.

“Maybe some results keep them going, but they don’t watch our games.”

So, no laminated cheat sheets or whispered instructions from backroom analysts for Sepp Maier.

As the West German goalkeeper crouched on his goalline and fixed his eyes on Panenka, he had only his own instinct to carry on.

Maier’s teammate Uli Hoeness blazed the previous spot-kick over the bar. That was the first miss of the shoot-out, after extra time ended where the teams were still tied at 2-2.

Immediately the stakes became sudden death and high heaven. If Panenka scored, West Germany was beaten.

Panenka’s run-up was long and fast. It looked like he intended, like Hoeness, to stick his instep behind the ball.

However, in the most important kick of his life, he falls for his trusted trick. A deft tickle sent the ball floating into the center of the goal. Panenka’s arm was up in celebration before it hit the net. Maier, confused and frustrated, returned to his feet, but just in time to shoot a sad look at Panenka who was running in celebration.