FIFA.com: What does the FIFA World Cup mean to you?
Dino Zoff: For me, the words 'World Cup' evoke the happiest and most wonderful days of my sporting life. Actually, I played at a few World Cups and brought the curtain down on my playing career with victory at one of them (1982). So you can imagine the sense of satisfaction and pleasure the competition brings to mind.

Have you maintained close ties with the players you shared your FIFA World Cup adventures with?
Club football brings some of us together from time to time, and we still have a strong bond that comes from sharing victory at the World Cup. Something like that is unforgettable, so it's normal that friendships forged in those circumstances should endure. Occasionally, I also meet some of the guys I played against in those days, and it's always nice to have a few words with them.

What was your secret? Did you have some special psychological preparation or did that steely focus and poise come naturally?
No, not at all. It goes without saying that you prepare for a World Cup, as it's the ultimate in football. So by the time you arrive there, you're already fully focused. Moreover, we Italians have a very competitive and demanding domestic championship, which is why I say concentration is a given. I'd say the greatest danger would be an inability to deal with this tension, but the Azzurri have always gone into the World Cup with maximum focus.

You played in three FIFA World Cups, and it might have been four had you not lost out to Albertosi in 1970.
I'm happy with what I achieved, even if I was annoyed not to play at Mexico 1970, the first World Cup finals I was selected for. I had played in the side that won the European Championship in Rome two years earlier, so I thought I'd start in Mexico. However, in the end I didn't, and that was down to coach Valcareggi and his first choice Albertosi, who, I should add, was a really great keeper. I was quite upset at the time, but I was able to play a full part in 1974, 1978 and 1982.

How do the three FIFA World Cups you played in compare?
Well in 1974, the Italian team arrived in Germany with great expectations. I'd even made the cover of Newsweek magazine, as I hadn't conceded an international goal for two years (1972-74). But that World Cup didn't go well, not necessarily for me, as I think I more or less did my job, but for the team in general. I think it was because we were sort of between generations at the time. Several players were coming to the end of their careers, and the coach had several directors at the FA heaping pressure on him. Everyone knows that when there are too many generals, an army doesn't fare very well.

In 1978, on the other hand, we had a great World Cup - everyone, that is, except me. I wasn't in great shape physically and so didn't perform as I should have. Even today, I'm still blamed for letting in that long-range effort (from Arie Haan in our game against the Netherlands). Nowadays, strikes like that are hailed as wonder-goals, but back then, everyone blamed the goalkeeper. I accept I could have done better and that we could have reached the Final, though I doubt we could've won it. Argentina were very strong at the time, plus they had home advantage. But, yes, I could have done more. Then, there was 1982.

Can we stay with 1978 for a moment longer. Rossi and Gentile told us it was in Argentina that the all-conquering team of Spain 82 began to come together.
Without a doubt, the 1982 team took shape in 1978. We also had Bettega, who unfortunately missed the Spain World Cup because of injury. He was a great player and a huge loss for us. But the nucleus of the team was the same as 1978, and that's when the seeds of the 1982 success were sown. The finals in Spain were an extraordinary experience. We had that really frustrating start with all the ensuing criticism, and then came the instructions not to talk to the press. Generally speaking, Italy are slow starters in major tournaments, and I think that stems from the enormous pressure we're under and a fear of not getting past the first round.

Nonetheless, there was a mechanism in place.
Yes there was, but there was still an awful lot of tension in the (first) group phase, those opening three games. After the Argentina finals, the start of the 1982 edition was very hard, because everyone knew if we didn't survive the group stage, it would be construed as a huge failure and be accompanied by howls of protest. Consequently, the pressure was so intense that the team was unable to express itself freely. Once we got past that stage, we had a superb World Cup.

The defence had to shoulder much of the responsibility in those opening three games.
I wouldn't say the defence was on the rack or anything, just that we weren't playing as we could. We were too reserved and too measured in our overall play. What I mean to say is, there wasn't the freedom there that you need in order to play well. Once we got over that, well, everyone knows what happened.

As captain, how did you get messages across to your team-mates during the games?
Messages? Well, I was 40 years old and their captain, so I had the authority to make my voice heard. In truth, though, in highly pressurised situations, it's difficult to give messages to your team-mates. Once we got things in hand and had stopped talking to the press, we could communicate more directly.

Would it be fair to say you and Bearzot had a close relationship?
Yes, you could say Bearzot confided in me, and that there was a certain complicity, but I don't mean that in a negative sense. I've always believed that everyone should be where they belong. Bearzot was the coach, and the man ultimately responsible. I'm convinced it was because of him we won the World Cup. He managed to maintain unity in the side and knew when to take the flak for us at difficult moments. He was almost like a father to me - we're from the same part of Italy - and there was always a deep respect for each other's position.

Aren't the people from your region famed for talking little but working a lot?
Yes, what characterises we Friulans, or at least what used to, is that we place more importance on facts than words. We're not talkative people by nature. Bearzot believed, as I do, that words have their own weight. When you say something, you have to be accountable for it. Unfortunately, nowadays words have been devalued. You can see that in all these false prophets who talk endlessly but say nothing.

Were you privy to Bearzot's instructions?
No, because I didn't want to be. I've always believed in respecting other people's work, and the coach has to be the one responsible. As captain, I had a different kind of responsibility. Occasionally he would say something to me or confide in me, but it wouldn't have gone any further than that.

Could you see Tardelli's goal (in the Final against Germany) from where you were?
Yes, but more than the goal, I saw Tardelli's reaction. After scoring he went totally...

Crazy?
He was a very passionate and instinctive man, and so his reaction was only to be expected.

When you finally won the world title, did you give free rein to your emotions?
Well, I never lost my composure, although I was naturally thrilled with our win. If you think about it - it's the World Cup, I'm 40 and also the captain, and we have all these great results - we couldn't but be euphoric and do laps of honour. That said, I've never been one for exaggerated celebrations or over-enthusiasm on the pitch.

But it was the culmination of your career?
That's true, but I'm a great believer in reasonable behaviour, out of respect for my adversary. I don't like exaggerated gestures of exasperation and enthusiasm. I always try to think about how my opponent must be feeling (when I win).

Did you ever dream you would bow out with the FIFA World Cup Trophy tucked under your arm?
Well, there was a fair bit of controversy surrounding the team going into that tournament, and my inclusion, at the age of 40, had a lot to do with it. The criticism levelled at us was greatly exaggerated, and no one does exaggeration like we Italians. In spite of that, we believed in ourselves. Bearzot was a down-to-earth person who was never swayed by the media or what was going on around him. He saw things a certain way and refused to be influenced by the circumstances. When Paolo Rossi was unable to score, Bearzot really came under fire, with everyone telling him he'd have to drop him and change this and change that. Instead, what he did was extraordinary: he persevered with him and look what happened. I think he did exceptionally well in that regard.

You have a whole host of records to your name, even if Paolo Maldini took one off you. There is your mark of 1,142 minutes without conceding an international goal, for example.
Yes. Maldini overtook me as most-capped player. I had 112 caps, but he went well past that. But, you know what, records are made to be broken. Moreover, to lose that record to Maldini was almost a pleasure, as he's a truly extraordinary player.

Am I right in saying that one of your proudest records is the one you hold for consecutive games?
Yes. Some of my records have been broken, but I'm very proud of my record of 332 consecutive games (in Serie A), that is to say, 11 straight years in my national championship. I will always be able to say that I was there, that I was ever-present, and that's very satisfying.

Your international career was only four games old when you won the European Championship, and you bowed at the age of 40 as world champion.
From beginning to end, my adventure with the national team was extraordinary. From the European Championship in 1968 to the World Cup in 1982 - you couldn't ask for anything more.

You knew Lev Yashin well, I understand. What about today's goalkeepers, do you follow them much?
Yes, I knew Yashin. We were good colleagues, but I wouldn't say friends, as we lived too far apart for that. I'll always be grateful to him for coming to my testimonial game. He, (Joel) Bats and many others were there that night in San Remo when I bowed out. What's more, he was one of the greatest keepers of all time.

You have a lot of admiration for Bats too, don't you?
Yes. For me, Bats, was a very complete keeper: alert, quick and with total command of his area. I've always held him in the highest esteem.

Do you think the role of keepers nowadays is different, what with the current rules on feet-first tackles and back-passing?
No, I don't think the goalkeeper's role has changed that much. There was a time when, because of all the madness with off-side, keepers were obliged to come out and make those kind of tackles. Nowadays, the goalkeeper's role is clearly a bit more complex. If they come out along the ground, they're frequently penalised. Often they'll get yellow cards or concede penalties, or the striker, instead of trying to score, will push the ball out wide, hoping the keeper will make contact with him. In that respect I think we had it better, as we could come out feet first and with conviction. There was more sportsmanship back then: the striker tried to score as opposed to provoking a penalty. That's a change for the worst, because it limits the keeper's ability to intervene. Now he has to always wait and not commit, as the slightest contact and he could be facing a yellow or red card and a penalty. So I'd say keepers today are in a weaker position.

If you had to choose the best save you have ever made, which would it be?
The best save I ever made was when I stopped the ball on the line from a header by Oscar in the dying minutes of our game against Brazil (in 1982). As I smothered the ball, the Brazilian players were claiming a goal, and I had this horrible feeling the referee would get it wrong and adjudge it to have crossed the line. It was a feeling of absolute terror, so I just stayed down, holding onto the ball for dear life and waiting for the referee to see exactly where the ball was. I'd had a similar experience nine years earlier in Romania, also with the national team, only on that occasion the ref got it wrong and awarded a goal. Those four or five seconds against Brazil were sheer terror, as I couldn't spot the referee and was just praying he'd seen it hadn't gone in.

Is there any save you would like to have made at a FIFA World Cup?
Well, actually, I did make a pretty spectacular diving save against Germany at Argentina 78. People always said I wasn't showy or spontaneous enough. Well that was my answer to them.

Can you tell us what it was like flying back to Rome on President Pertini's plane after the 1982 Final.
That World Cup was an incredibly intense experience for all of Italy. We were flown back to Rome by President Pertini, who got caught up with all the emotion at the stadium. I ended up playing cards with the President, Bearzot and Causio, and that's how we spent the hour-and-a-half flight. Pertini was the type of person who made you feel relaxed in his company, and he seemed just like another member of the group. It was incredible.

When we landed in Rome, there was bedlam until we arrived at the Presidential Building in Quirinale. Pertini then insisted we stay for something to eat. I remember him saying: "I'll sit here and I want Bearzot on one side and Zoff and all the players on the other. If we have room for the ministers and deputies, well and good. If not, then they'll have to go to a restaurant." He really knew how to express himself, did Pertini.

Do you think a single game of football warranted all that outpouring of passion, all those celebrations in the street?
As a people, we've always had this passion for football. It's incredibly popular here and straddles all the social classes. That's why victories like that of the World Cup are celebrated in that way. During that World Cup we delivered, and we got to the final doing things the right way. Along with responsibility, correctness was one of the things that typified Bearzot. We achieved our goal by winning that title and flying the Italian flag high. That was a pleasure, and it's only fitting that the people should have celebrated as they did.

We have a small surprise for you. Do you remember this?
(Holding the FIFA World Cup Trophy) Goodness me! How did that get here?

Yes. Notice how heavy it is.
I remembered it as being much lighter. In Spain, in all the excitement, it didn't seem to weigh anything. Now, though, you can really feel its weight, its importance.

We recently visited Silvio Gazzaniga, the Italian sculptor who created it. He is 84 now and he is touching it up ahead of the next FIFA World Cup.
You know, I ended up, or to be more precise, my arms ended up in that picture of Gattuso's that was used for the stamp. What I mean is, that image of me holding the Cup is never far away.

Would you value the Trophy aesthetically or is it of more sentimental value to you?
Well, the memories it evokes are sentimental. Aesthetically, I think it's a beautiful Cup, not at all like your average trophy. It's very special.