If you arrive in Monaco on the coastal train from Nice, it’s not hard to grasp why they call it Le Rocher (‘The Rock’). Step out of the station and you’re looking straight down its sheer face and into the glistening Mediterranean. In this rarefied air, it seems unlikely that the winding hill road will lead down to a scene of high-level sporting duel. It is even less so when you finally arrive and consider the distinctly down-at-heel, municipal reality of the Stade Louis II. The Principality will never be a firepit of football passion, but this was no normal Wednesday evening.

For while this match offered the victors a prize befitting the royal surrounds in the shape of a place in the Champions League final, it should have been as dead as the proverbial duck. The mighty Juventus had already made their intentions quite clear, making April fools of Monaco in the first leg in northern Italy. Though Costinha had briefly brought Jean Tigana’s side level, an Alessandro Del Piero hat-trick and a late cherry on the cake from Zinedine Zidane (Juve’s 500th goal in Europe) saw the Bianconeri arrive on the Côte d’Azur as overwhelming favourites.

One look at the squad list would have done the same job. Aiming for a third successive final, Marcello Lippi was blessed with a trunkful of stars, and even without Didier Deschamps and Angelo Di Livio, he felt he could afford to leave the yellow-card-carrying Edgar Davids on the bench.

At 23, Del Piero was already one of Europe’s most feared attackers. His impudent back-heeled finish in the previous year’s final against Dortmund had just failed to tip the balance back in Juve’s favour, and following his display in the first leg now had 20 European goals in just 35 appearances. 

If Juve thought they’d had a job picking themselves up from the disappointment of the Munich final, it was little compared to the reconstruction that Tigana had been forced to carry out in the same period. In the wake of Monaco’s league title triumph, five regulars left, including Emmanuel Petit (Arsenal) and the Barcelona-bound Sonny Anderson.

After losing the tournament opener on an abysmal Estádio José Alvalade pitch in Lisbon to Sporting, the new-look Monaco side motored impressively, brushing aside the likes of Bayer Leverkusen and scoring 15 group stage goals in the process, a Champions League season-high shared with Real Madrid. David Trezeguet, one of the youngsters afforded a chance by the summer ’97 exodus, then scored an early goal at Manchester United in the quarter-final second leg which eventually saw Monaco into the last four on away goals.

Juve, meanwhile, had diced with danger. Only a snooker - Predrag Dordevic’s late equaliser for Olympiakos against Rosenborg in December - had sent Juve through to the quarter-finals as a best group runner-up (along with Leverkusen) instead of Nils Arne Eggen’s impressive team. A Filippo Inzaghi equaliser at the Stadio Delle Alpi had salvaged a quarter-final first leg draw against Dynamo Kiev, before the same man’s hat-trick viced the tie firmly in its grip in the return in Ukraine.

The absence of Ciro Ferrara and Paolo Montero at the heart of the Turin side’s defence might have given the home side the glimmer of hope they needed facing such a heavy deficit, but their own defensive frailties – given the dual absence of Franck Dumas and Bosnian centre-back Muhamed Konjic – made Monaco minds up. It would be attack, attack and more attack on the menu. Juve captain Angelo Peruzzi was called into action in the first five minutes by the Belgian Philippe Léonard following Ali Bernabia’s corner, and in teeming rain, his workload rarely lagged.

The charismatic Anderson may have left the Louis II, but he had left a keen disciple in his wake. Thierry Henry had arrived on the south coast from suburban Paris as a 14-year-old, and by the time he turned pro just short of his 17th birthday in 1994 he was joined in the first-team squad by the Brazilian, recently arrived from Marseille. By the time Anderson left for the Camp Nou, Henry was wearing his socks pulled up over his knees in his now-trademark style – a quirk that he copied wholesale from his top-scoring teammate. 

In no time at all in this return leg, the visceral thrill of Henry surging past a floundering Moreno Torricelli became as familiar to Monegasque eyes as that of multi-million euro yachts gently bobbing on the harbour. The full-back’s crude early slide on Henry received the benefit of official doubt, probably due to the sodden surface, and Torricelli would need every joker he could get in the bank, as he grabbed and body-checked his way through the remainder of the match.

As the occasion began to glow, Juve quietly prepared their bucket of cold water, and let it tip on the quarter-hour. Del Piero’s smooth step-over fooled Martin Djetou, and Nicola Amoruso – on as an early substitute for Inzaghi – side-footed the opener past Fabien Barthez. Having refused to bow to Monaco’s robust approach, with Inzaghi put out of the game by a crunching aerial challenge by Djibril Diawara, Juve were able to change gear and show their class at the drop of a hat.

All over, then? Not a chance. Monaco resolved to skid, slide and scrap for every ball. Henry’s power was prominent, and after he cut in and played a lightening quick one-two with Lilian Martin, he blasted in a shot from the edge of the area that Peruzzi again dived to block. 

Bernabia was starting to exert himself too, and when Martin curled in a delicious cross just after the half-hour he took a break for his geometric passing to fling himself at a diving header. Again, Peruzzi sprawled to save his side.

When Monaco did draw level in the 38th minute, it came with a slice of luck. Léonard’s free-kick from distance was lustily hit, but took a big deflection off Antonio Conte to take it in. It was hard to argue against them deserving it. Henry glided onto Bernabia’s precision pass as the interval approached, and this time Peruzzi saved with his legs. By half-time Monaco had mustered ten attempts on goal to Juve’s two, and the Juve goalkeeper was man-of-the-match by some distance.

Still, Tigana had some talking to do, with perhaps the biggest speech of his managerial career in front of him. One of the cornerstones of France’s revered carré magique (‘magic square’) as a player in the ‘80s, he had seen it all and done it all. Described to the Ramble as “very calm” by Scottish midfielder John Collins, he had expertly guided his side through the tie at Old Trafford.

Summoning a superhuman effort to force the game of their lives from his team would be quite different. Yet, as Collins told us, “there were quite a few leaders in the team.” He was one, and thirsty to make reparation having missed the match in Turin through suspension. “I watched it on TV at home. It was a terrible experience,” he said.

Perceived as a Rolls-Royce at home in the UK (and not without reason), Collins showed the other side of his game here too, snapping and biting at finely-cut heels as he aimed to follow in the steps of fellow Scot Paul Lambert, who was in Dortmund’s Champions League-winning side the season before.

In front of him, Bernabia was increasingly difficult to contain. Peruzzi tipped the Algerian’s deflected shot around the post shortly into the second half. Yet it was Collins who made a decisive contribution on 50 minutes, pickpocketing Zidane and playing in Henry, who drew Peruzzi and dinked the ball over the diving ‘keeper. Monaco were undeniably back in business.

It takes a rare occasion for real atmosphere to swell in the Louis II but here it came, as those present – a still below capacity 15,000 – scented something era-defining. Juve, always so well supported away from the Delle Alpi, needed their fans to respond and they did. As ‘ole, ole ole ole, Juve, Juve’ resonated against the unseasonal wind, Zidane nearly made immediate amends, but Barthez came out to bravely thwart him. It had almost been a reprise of the first leg action, where Zizou broke almost directly after Costinha’s equaliser to win a penalty – from which Del Piero had put Juve back in front.

Lippi decided to bring Zidane off (himself on a yellow card) just before the hour mark; an action met by whistles from disappointed Frenchman as much as Juventinos, but we were into the realms of rearguard action. If Davids too was one false move away from missing the Amsterdam final, Lippi decided the risk of not even getting there was perhaps greater, and sent on his midfield dynamo for the last twenty minutes in an attempt to exert some control, having seen Peruzzi spectacularly bat away another Bernabia header as Juve began to rock. “We pummelled them,” observed Collins, “especially after the second goal. We really could have won it.” 

Clearly the Juve staff agreed, and the decision to bring on Davids was the ultimate mark of respect to Monaco - but not so much to Amoruso, with the substitute substituted, to his clear chagrin. It must have been tempting for Lippi to withdraw Del Piero instead, with his star having been booted from pillar to post and looking far from comfortable.

The cigar-toting coach always had a touch of Paul Newman about him, and in the capital of high rollers, he had fully morphed into Eddie Felson in The Hustler. With fifteen minutes left, Fabio Pecchia crossed from the right, and Del Piero smashed a sumptuous volley past Barthez, with the aid of a deflection off Martin. The gamble had spectacularly paid off. 

The chants from the Juve fans grew louder, but there was little else to suggest the goal had actually happened. Monaco certainly continued as if it hadn’t, maxing every challenge and breaking forward at every opportunity. Bernabia and Peruzzi had been conducting a private duel for most of the second period, with the Italian holding the upper hand. After Monaco substitute Robert Spehar towered over Alessandro Birindelli to head the excellent Martin’s inswinging delivery in and regain the lead on the night, Peruzzi produced perhaps his best save, tipping over Bernabia’s wickedly-dipping volley.

The game was up, but with the last action of the match, Bernabia played another magnificent through pass to Spehar. Peruzzi pulled off a double save from the Croatian. It was an ultimately futile, but proud, gesture. The same could be said of Henry’s lung-busting sprint back into his own half to dispossess Conte just before, as stoppage time began. The image clearly stayed with Juve, who signed the Frenchman eight months later.

It seems harsh – if fitting – that a flagging Monaco ultimately finished third, nine points behind champions Lens and their close rivals Metz; and thus out of the Champions League places, only afforded to the top two at the time.

Juve retained the title, but fell short in the Champions League final for the second successive year – again, after dominating the showpiece, this time against Jupp Heynckes’ Real Madrid. Lippi’s stellar side may not quite have collected the extent of silverware that their brilliance deserved, but at least they weren’t forgotten by history as were this Monaco.