Zinedine Zidane.
France's answer to the cursed generation.
The generation of Cantona, Papin and Ginola, that missed two World Cups in a row and tore itself apart trying to qualify for either of them.
France hosted the next one, in 1998, and needed someone to carry it.
Zidane was twenty-six years old, the son of Algerian Kabyle immigrants who had crossed from a village in northern Algeria to a housing estate on the edge of Marseille.
Growing up in La Castellane, a tough neigbourhood, plagued by unemployment, drug trafficking and prostitution. His father worked nights as a warehouse watchman.
Zidane learned football on a concrete square called Place Tartane, the kind of pitch where the ball bounced wrong and nobody cared.
He idolised Uruguayan playmaker Enzo Francescoli and Marseille striker Jean-Pierre Papin, the very same Papin who never got his own World Cup.
Coaches at his first club spent his early weeks punishing him with cleaning duty for punching an opponent who had mocked his background. The anger was always there.
On his roots, he once said: "I have an affinity with the Arabic world. I have it in my blood, via my parents. I'm very proud of being French, but also very proud of having these roots and this diversity."
By 1998 it didn't matter where he came from. France won the World Cup on home soil, beat Italy to win Euro 2000 two years later, and Zidane became the best footballer on the planet.
In October 2001, France played Algeria, for the first time since Algeria’s independence. A friendly meant as a gesture of reconciliation between the two countries.
Before kick-off, signs in the Algerian crowd read "Zidane-Harki," accusing his father of having collaborated with the French army during Algeria's war of independence.
Young French Arabs eventually invaded the pitch and the match was abandoned.
Zidane addressed it directly afterwards. "I say this once for all time: my father is not a Harki. My father is an Algerian, proud of who he is, and I am proud that my father is Algerian." His father had in fact left for France years before that war had even started.
Then 2006. His final tournament, a goodbye tour that somehow kept getting better the longer it went on. He destroyed Spain in the last 16. He made the difference against Brazil in the quarter-final. He scored the winner against Portugal in the semi.
Then the final, against Italy in Berlin, his actual last match as a professional footballer.
Seventh minute. Penalty to France. Zidane against Gianluigi Buffon, the greatest goalkeeper alive. Zidane did something unexpected. He ran up and chipped it dead down the middle, a Panenka, the single most difficult penalty in football, in a World Cup final, with his career ending in minutes either way.
It clipped the underside of the bar and dropped in. Buffon never moved a muscle in the right direction. "I had to surprise him," Zidane said years later. "I did everything instinctively, with my heart. I didn't calculate. That's why football is so great."
Extra time. 1-1. The 110th minute. Materazzi grabbed his shirt as they jogged back upfield. Zidane had just offered to swap shirts with him after the game. Materazzi's reply, confirmed in his own autobiography more than a year later: "I prefer the whore that is your sister." Zidane turned, planted both feet, and drove his head into Materazzi's chest in front of the entire world. No scuffle, no warning, completely calm.
Red card. Zidane walked past the World Cup trophy itself on his way to the tunnel, head down, the most replayed image of his entire career.
He apologised publicly within days. "I want to ask forgiveness from all the children who watched that, there was no excuse for it." Then added that he didn't regret it, "because regretting it would mean he was right to say what he said."
He never apologised to Materazzi directly. The two men have never spoke again.
France forgave him almost instantly. Polls taken within days showed 61% of the country said they had already forgiven him, 52% said they understood exactly why he'd done it.
President Jacques Chirac called him publicly "a man of heart and conviction."
On the streets where Zidane grew up, kids told reporters that defending his family's honour mattered more to them than the trophy itself.
The image outgrew football entirely. By November 2006, an animated Zidane appeared on Family Guy, headbutting an old lady delivering a birthday cake. The headbutt had become a meme that worked in any country, in any language, without a single word of context required.
Zidane finished his international career with 31 goals in 108 caps, a World Cup, a European Championship, a Ballon d'Or, three FIFA World Player of the Year awards, and one headbutt that never managed to erase any of it.
He turns 54 today. 🇫🇷
Ebola 2014 Outbreak Analysis
The evidence supports cautious lessons around coordinated outbreak response. W.H.O sources frame Ebola control as a package that includes emergency coordination, surveillance, contact tracing, laboratory support, safe burial practices, & trust. #Ebola
#ResearchInAction Jing Huang @UofRegina used X-ray analysis at the CLS to help understand how heavy metals stick to a water filter protype. She is hopeful that this technology could improve access to safer drinking water. Learn more: https://t.co/lI72RzJ9ed
@NSERC_CRSNG
Community trust is essential. During the 2014 outbreak, distrust of governments and health workers led many to hide sick relatives and avoid treatment centers. letting the virus spread. Trust isn't optional in outbreak response. It's the foundation everything else depends on.
The 2014 Ebola outbreak killed over 11,000 people. We learned hard lessons.
DRC and Uganda are facing a new outbreak now. 837 confirmed cases, 196 deaths in DRC as of mid-June. WHO has declared it a public health emergency.
Institutions need to act. Trust needs rebuilding. #Ebola
@steelersluvver@TheAppleDesign If Apple slaps a second camera on the air. People will find another thing to complain about and probably not buy it. Like “it’s too thin”