THERE IS SO MUCH TO ENJOY ABOUT THE WORLD CUP, I DON'T WANT IT TO END
Now we are moving into the quarter-finals, I have started to muse ruefully about the end of the big carnival, the drabness of the summer without football, the lesser challenge of the next domestic season.
The club game, great as it is, cannot hold a candle to the four-yearly global big top that is the World Cup. Football does unite the world, as FIFA's slogan says,.
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| FIFA World Cup 2026 Official Poster |
As the schedule winds down towards the final showdown, the sadness of eliminations piles up alongside the euphoria of victories. Every match after the group stage has a loser as well as a winner. It is the old Chinese concept of Yin and Yang, the opposite yet essential forces of the universe.
As an admirer of 'El Loco' Bielsa after his rollercoaster ride at Leeds, I took a sip of bitter defeat as Uruguay self-combusted in the first round amid rancour around the eccentric manager's methods. Then there was Canada, never a footballing hotbed but a team with host nation momentum, who were shown the exit. Jesse Marsch, their perennially positive manager and Bielsa's successor at Elland Road, gave a typically praise-packed post-match tribute to his losing side.
When the Dutch lost to Morocco on penalties, which was no disgrace given the Atlas Lions' recent pedigree (African champions and World Cup semi-finalists), the nation of Oranje was plunged into another round of recrimination and angst-ridden self-analysis to work out what had gone wrong with their football. They have lost three World Cup finals of course, yet gave the world Johan Cruyff and total football, so feel frustrated at being the eternal bridesmaid.
The Germans are going through a similar process but have a prince in waiting in the form of Jurgen Klopp, and Italy, having failed to make it to the States, their astonishing third no-show in a row, have begun an organisational overhaul, finally.
Turkey must have been the unluckiest first round leaver, having peppered their opposition's goals without success. Iran were unlucky too, having gone out without having lost a match and having had two very marginal offsides deny them goals.
Now it is one-match knockout, the bad luck stories pile up. Just ask Croatia, eliminated by the Snickometer and the flick of some hair strands against Portugal. Now if that were the final, imagine the furore. The Croatian VAR scandal eclipsed that of Davinson Sanchez's 92nd minute winner against Portugal, which was ruled out for an offside toe, as Colombia won the group anyway and with Croatia, the flight of the ball was unchanged.
Then the cruel hand of fate alighted on Egypt, who were 2-0 up with 11 minutes remaining but lost 3-2. Was the referee guilty in disallowing a goal they scored for a foul at the other end of the field, while allowing one for Argentina with a similar detail? Possibly there was a curse on the Pharaohs.
Senegal were two up on the Belgians with five minutes to play but also lost, while DR Congo and Japan threw away knockout-stage leads to lose.
Plus one has to mention the USA, who collapsed 4-1 to Belgium despite, or perhaps because of the temporal power of the world's most powerful man forcing the hand of FIFA. Their dazed and lethargic approach to an eminently winnable game must be somewhat due to the alliance with the White House fostered by FIFA House, an unhealthy and risk-filled relationship, even if it has a summer time-limit.
It is not just the teams we can lament but also some major individuals - the last international hurrah of Cristiano Ronaldo for starters, but probably also for giants like Javier Aguirre, Bielsa, Luka Modric and Mohamed Salah.
So the universal wave of happiness and hope at the start of the tournament now gives way to a veil of tears, regret and fond farewells. Twas ever thus. The millions following the tournament intensely feel the same, that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
What we are left with are memories and World Cups punctuate our lives. As England returned to the Azteca to play Mexico, my memories of a Sunday night in 1986 came flooding back, as Diego Maradona performed in sunshine and shadow and the hand of the deity was invoked.
Boston and Miami missed the Tartan Army once Scotland were knocked out, but keep cherished recollections of an unheralded cultural crossing. We should not forget 2026. Beyond the winners, Cape Verde are the greatest heroes of this World Cup, a team from a country nobody can place on the map let alone opine about their football, but who drew with Spain and Uruguay and gave holders Argentina an almighty fright, losing only 3-2 in the end.
The Blue Sharks became everyone's favourite underdogs with forty-something goalkeeper Vizinho an unlikely global star. Expect their world ranking of 67th to shoot up this month. At the turn of the century they were 182nd.
47 of the 48 qualified teams will leave unhappy at having lost in the end but at least they can shine brightly along the way, fight until the end and relish their time in the sun while it lasts. That has to be a metaphor, of which football fandom is stock-full.
Like life itself, just enjoy the moment of the World Cup, the greatest show on earth, for every minute while it lasts.
(c) Sean O'Conor & Soccerphile