08-Mar-2018 11:00:03 | The Guardian
Police were desperately hunting for leads after the 1966 heist, but it turned out the most important one was tied around a collie’s collar in south London
The Jules Rimet trophy went walkies in March 1966. Upon discovering that the most precious prize in world football had been snatched from under their hapless noses, the folk at the Football Association responded in a manner that couldn’t have been more English had their press release been soaked in weak milky tea. “The FA deeply regrets this most unfortunate incident,” began their clipped, haughty study in brazen understatement. “It inevitably brings discredit to both the FA and this country.”
They’d struck the right tone with that last bit, at least. The FA was way out of the good books for losing the cup. “I’m damned angry!” spluttered Erik von Frenckell, honorary president of the Finnish FA. Abrain Tebet of the Brazilian Sports Confederation was even more strident. “Even Brazilian thieves love football and would never commit this sacrilege! It would never have happened in Brazil.” Oh Abrain! No good will ever come of talk like this.