Back at home, Panenka was interested in every single penalty shootout, almost every day.
Closer to training at his Prague club, Bohemians, Panenka and goalkeeper Zdenek Hruska stayed back to practice shooting from the penalty spot.
It used to be an overly private match. Panenka would have 5 consequences: he must score all 5, Hruska must save only one. Whoever lost would buy their post-workout beer or chocolate.
“I paid him constantly,” Panenka says.
“So at night I was thinking of ways to beat him; then I realized that, as I was running, the goalkeeper would wait for the last second and then play, diving left or right.
“I thought, ‘What if I hit the ball almost immediately into the middle of the goal?'”
Panenka tried. He found that introducing another potential penalty and some hesitation into Hruska’s mind meant he was earning more, spending less and still receiving his post-workout reward.
It could have stopped there and remained an invisible show-off piece. But Panenka realized that his new technique was more than that. He had discovered a legitimate 12-yard tactic.
Over the next two years, he tried it on larger and larger stages. First, in training, then in friendlies and finally, the month before the 1976 Euro Cup, against local rival Dukla Prague in an official match.
Each time it worked and his conviction grew.
“I didn’t disclose it incorrectly,” Panenka says.
“Right here [in Czechoslovakia] Society has been very aware of this.
“But in the Western countries, in the main football countries, no one was at all interested in Czechoslovak football.
“Maybe some effects were saved for them, but they didn’t monitor our games.”
So there was no laminated cheat sheet or whispered instructions from a secret analyst to Sepp Maier.
As the West Germany goalkeeper crouched on the goal line and fixed his eyes on Panenka, he had only his own instinct to move forward.
Maier’s teammate Uli Hoeness had taken the previous penalty over the bar. It was the first ruling of the penalty shootout, after extra time ended with the teams still tied at 2-2.
Instantly what was at stake became sudden, sky-high death. If Panenka scored, West Germany was defeated.
Panenka’s career was long and fast. He seemed determined, like Hoeness, to hit the back of the ball with his instep.
Instead, with probably the most impressive kick of his time, he fell back into his trusted trick. A deft tick sent the ball floating near the center of the goal. Panenka’s arm was raised at a birthday party before hitting the web. Maier, bewildered and unsuccessful, stood on tiptoe, but only then did a sad look explode at Panenka who was walking away at the birthday party.
