A competition born from ambition
Long before the Champions League became a commercial juggernaut, before petrodollars reshaped the football landscape, there existed a simpler question: who are the best in the world?
In 1960, UEFA president Henri Delaunay had a vision. The man who had helped Jules Rimet bring the World Cup to life three decades earlier wanted to create football's ultimate club showdown. His answer was elegant in its simplicity: pit the European Cup winners against the Copa Libertadores champions. Let the two footballing superpowers settle the argument on the pitch.
Real Madrid, fresh from their fifth consecutive European triumph, faced Uruguay's Peñarol in the inaugural edition. Los Blancos won, and immediately declared themselves world champions. FIFA objected, insisting the competition was merely a private match between two confederations. The governing body refused to recognise it officially. The clubs, and their fans, couldn't have cared less.
Blood, sweat and tears in South America
The early years of the Intercontinental Cup wrote some of football's most brutal chapters. Two-legged ties, one in Europe and one in South America, became battlegrounds where continental pride outweighed sporting conduct.
The 1967 edition between Celtic and Racing Club of Argentina descended into chaos. After a 1-1 draw in Glasgow and a 2-1 Racing win in Buenos Aires, a play-off in Montevideo produced what became known as The Battle of Montevideo. Six players were sent off. Celtic's Billy McNeill described it as organised violence. The Scottish FA begged FIFA to intervene. FIFA refused, claiming they couldn't regulate a competition they didn't organise.
By the 1970s, several European champions simply declined to participate. The journey was long, the matches were savage, and the prestige felt hollow to those who had already conquered their continent.
The Toyota Cup revolution
Everything changed in 1980. Japanese car manufacturer Toyota stepped in as sponsor, and the competition was rebranded as a single match played on neutral ground in Tokyo. The violence subsided. The glamour increased. And for 24 years, the National Stadium became football's December pilgrimage site.
The 1981 edition remains etched in Brazilian folklore. Flamengo, led by the incomparable Zico, dismantled Bob Paisley's Liverpool 3-0 in just 41 first-half minutes. Nunes scored twice, Adílio added a third, and the mighty Reds were humiliated before a crowd of 62,000.
In Rio de Janeiro, the final whistle at 2am local time triggered celebrations that lasted until dawn. For Flamengo supporters, December 13th 1981 remains the greatest day in their 126-year history. A song commemorating that night is still sung today.
Death and rebirth
The old Intercontinental Cup breathed its last in 2004, when Porto defeated Colombia's Once Caldas on penalties in Yokohama. FIFA had finally succeeded in absorbing it into the expanded Club World Cup, a seven-team tournament featuring champions from all six confederations.
For nearly two decades, the mystique faded. The Club World Cup became a glorified exhibition, scheduled inconveniently in December and dismissed by European giants as an unwelcome distraction. Critics argued it lacked the romance of the old two-horse race.
Then, in December 2022, FIFA announced a radical restructuring. The Club World Cup would expand to 32 teams and be held every four years, starting in 2025. But what about the annual showdown between continental kings? The answer was simple: bring back the Intercontinental Cup.
A new format for a new era
The FIFA Intercontinental Cup, launched in 2024, preserves the spirit of its predecessor while expanding its scope. Six continental champions compete in a knockout format: the OFC winner faces either the AFC or CAF champion, then the Derby of the Americas pits CONMEBOL against CONCACAF, before the Challenger Cup determines who faces the UEFA representative in the final.
The European champion receives a bye to the final, a privilege reflecting the continent's continued dominance but also sparking familiar debates about fairness. Real Madrid won the inaugural edition last December, defeating Mexico's Pachuca 3-0 in Qatar. The old kings claimed the new crown.
PSG and Flamengo: history rhymes
On Wednesday evening in Doha, Paris Saint-Germain and Flamengo will contest the second FIFA Intercontinental Cup final. The symmetry with 1981 is striking: once again, a European powerhouse faces the Brazilian giants in a winner-takes-all clash for global supremacy.
Flamengo arrive carrying the weight of expectation that comes with being South American and Brazilian champions. They dispatched Cruz Azul and Pyramids FC to reach this final, proving their quality across two continents. For the Mengão faithful, this is a chance to relive the glory of Zico's generation.
PSG, meanwhile, chase an unprecedented sextuple. Having already lifted the Trophée des Champions, Ligue 1, Coupe de France, Champions League and UEFA Super Cup, Luis Enrique's men stand on the brink of history. No French club has ever won this competition. The 1993 Marseille side, Champions League winners, were denied their shot due to the VA-OM scandal.
For Paris, lifting the trophy would complete the most remarkable season in French football history. For Flamengo, it would add another chapter to their storied December legacy.
The Intercontinental Cup may have changed its format, its sponsors, and its host cities over six decades. But its fundamental question remains the same: who are the best in the world? On Wednesday night, we find out.