World Cup Recap No. 3
trials AND tribulations
I can’t believe (1) it’s already our third recap and (2) I’ve managed to keep up a weekly cadence with these.
The truth is, I’ve already forgotten about Uruguay’s elimination. I mean, obviously that is a lie, but what remains true is the fact that I do not begrudge Cape Verde, our erstwhile groupmates, advancing to the knockout rounds instead of us. They were the better team.
My brother and I were beside ourselves live-texting that second half of Cape Verde’s match against Argentina:
To witness Cape Verde making Argentina’s life a living hell for 120 minutes … to sweetly chronicle the drops of sweat making their way down Scaloni’s face as he faced impending unemployment … to unlock my phone and text everyone I’ve ever met “are you watching Cape Verde rn??!” A beautiful way to end my Friday night, regardless of the match’s final result. This is, I fear, what the World Cup is all about. I think I still have goosebumps.
We were seconds away from a penalty shootout, which would’ve been historic if only to give Vozinha, Cape Verde’s quickly iconic goalkeeper, the chance to keep giving his millions of new fans the performance of a lifetime.
It took a lot of work from Argentina to beat the small island nation, and I need people to realize that this was not a matter of Cape Verde being lucky, or Argentina being unlucky (a mathematical impossibility, as you’ll know if you’ve any vague awareness of football)—the 3-2 outcome occurred because Cape Verde played well. They were disciplined, talented, and took strategic advantage of the pockets of space they negotiated out of Argentina’s half of the pitch. It was a joy to see them play.
Last week, I (correctly!) expressed doubt that Argentina would have as easy a time in the knockouts as they did in the group stage, and while I also (mistakenly!) suggested that Cape Verde wouldn’t be a significant obstacle to them, I’ve never been happier to be simultaneously right and wrong. Hedging your bets is good, actually.
Like, I have watched this Cape Verde goal dozens of times and I will see it dozens more before I hit publish.
It’s stunning. I know Isaac Newton is sitting up in his grave wondering if he fucked up his little physics calculations. If maybe, rather than laws, he’d come up with mere hypotheses, because the way this ball spun and curled through the air, traveling from Sidny Lopes Cabral’s foot to the far post to create one of the most beautiful goals in World Cup history and I mean that … surely that had not been baked into Isaac’s calcs.1
Again, sadly, I have to reiterate how glad I am to be watching an expanded pool of competitors this World Cup. Legendary football is everywhere if only we give it a platform and room to breathe.
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With that, here are a few moments I’ve been thinking about from the third week of the World Cup:
1. Egypt advances to the next round and every non-Aussie rejoices.
It’s hard to explain the extent to which Mo Salah’s happiness brings me happiness. I was at a friend’s when the penalty shootout started, so I brought out my little phone, propped it up against a half-empty water bottle, and subtly suggested we all direct our attention to the last few minutes of the Egypt v. Australia match.2
I love love love watching penalties among friends, especially when it’s not my team facing elimination. You can’t be bored by PKs. The stakes are so high, you will end up invested whether you want to be or not. It’s a beautiful thing. And to see Salah, on his last World Cup, carry his country to their first ever knockout match victory … the tears in his eyes were replicated rather easily in mine, I fear.
2. Senegal is eliminated and every non-Belgian weeps.
The Egypt win was a much-needed balm after witnessing Senegal’s tragic loss against a suddenly-scrappy Belgium on Wednesday night. A 2-0 lead from a consistently superior Senegalese side, destroyed within a 2.5-minute period because Lukaku decided that actually, he did have a bit of football left in the tank … broke my heart, and I say that as a fan of old Romelu’s.
I don’t wanna mince words: it is nothing short of a miracle that Belgium’s World Cup dream is still alive. They can’t believe it either, to be clear. Every time they get on the pitch it’s with a sense of awe and resignation. It would be fascinating if it weren’t also deeply frustrating.
That being said, I do think Belgium v. USA on Tuesday will, against all odds, be a thrilling match. The European country has apparently decided not to let a total absence of energy stand in its way, which will contrast nicely against the Americans’ unrelenting I-believe-that-we-will-win mentality. Choose your own adventure, delusion edition.
3. The enigma of tonight’s England v. Mexico match
I am at a complete loss: I have no idea how tonight’s round of 16 match between El Tri and England will go.
The head-to-head record tells us that of the nine times the two countries have faced off, England has won six times, drawn once, and lost twice. And sure, this sounds like a material point, until you realize the last time they played against each other was 2010. Sixteen years ago. Peter Crouch hadn’t even finished growing yet. Inception had just come out. I still had some tanks from Delia*s folded in my dresser. What I mean is: it’s a dangerous thing, relying on data made statistically insignificant by the passage of time.
Especially when Mexico has, by all accounts, been a strong team this World Cup, comfortably winning all their matches thus far, playing with both the sort of ease and grit that has at critical times been missing from Tuchel’s squad (see, e.g. long stretches of England’s battle against DR Congo). El Tri is a team that may not be frequently boasting flashes of brilliance, but they have been steady, and sometimes, in football, that’s preferable.3
And then, of course, there’s the Azteca Stadium of it all. Home-court advantage. The altitude element. Approximately the entire world rooting for Mexico.
What I think will ultimately result in a victory for England—that’s my prediction, alas, if not necessarily my deepest wish—is the fact that they’re not, as far as I can tell, underestimating Mexico as a rival. It’s why their match against Croatia remains, for me, the Three Lions’ most inspired game of the tournament thus far. They didn’t go in assuming they were the superior team and would therefore be guaranteed a victory. Manifestation and visualization are all well and good, but you have to leave room for the possibility of loss. Of suffering. Not to be dramatic, but survival instincts can only kick in upon awareness of death’s proximity.4
It’s a strange time to have access to my thoughts because I am not, at this time, actively rooting against England. Like, not rooting for them, either, exactly, but still—there is an element of conflict up there. I mostly just want an excellent, hard-fought game, and I think that’s what we’ll get.
4. Somehow, Portugal is still here.
There are certain athletes whose main purpose to me is that of vibe barometer.5 If I, for instance, just spitballing here, announce that I was watching Portugal v. Croatia, and someone I don’t know very well says something like, I was so glad Ronaldo made that penalty, that tells me more about that person than if they’d said something like, I occasionally wonder if the earth is indeed round. The latter is quirky, the former may lead me to question their moral fiber.6 The same works for Novak Djokovic, although I could quite easily imagine a Djokovic fan also being a flat earther. The consistency of it all, if you will. It tracks.
All this to say, I was distraught to see Luka Modric’s Croatia side lose to Portugal, not necessarily because I feel any sort of loyalty to Croatia even though I do have a soft spot for the team, but because that means I have to keep seeing Cristiano Ronaldo on my screen. The trials … the tribulations … never-ending.
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I’ll be watching Brazil v. Norway ahead of England v. Mexico, and while I do find Erling Haaland and the Norwegians charming, I am very much predicting a Brazilian win, and not just because I’m tired of the Viking row schtick. Respectfully.
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And the way he ran into the stands to find his family and his girl … a striker and a yearner. The way God intended.
I’m very fun at parties.
I refer you to Spain’s 2010 run.
I say I want Uruguay to hire a less idiosyncratic coach and then I start putting death and football in the same sentence … like, yes, do not worry, I hear it.
Derogatory.
I have been advised to say I am kidding.
The Cabo Verde game was so exciting even my MOTHER was riveted (hates sports, loves an underdog tale). The announcer said at the end “ I don’t care what the scoreboard says, Cape Verde are the winners today” 😭
I was so overwhelmed by the Cabo Verde game that I forgot there was another match still to come and just went straight to bed