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| How appropriate |
THE LOSE didn’t have the chance to write about the World Cup Final the other day, owing to having some work obligations. Apologies for that, and thanks to the many people who’ve made it a point to visit this space over the course of the past month. I always enjoy writing about the World Cup, finding it to be the single-most compelling sporting event on the planet, one whose meanings and metaphors often transcend the game of soccer itself.
But, of course, the final game itself is often bad. It’s usually bad, in fact. It’s tense, it’s tight, players are nervous, the tactics are cagy, the pace ponderously slow. There hasn’t been a truly good final in more than 30 years before this past Sunday, when France defeated Croatia 4:2 in a game which embodied the entire tournament. There were set piece goals, a goal from a penalty kick, a VAR controversy, another tally for vaunted striker Own Goal, the play was generally progressive and attack-minded, the game was competitive but generally disciplined, the underdogs took no shit and played like hell, and there were goals galore. It’s about all that you could ever want in a final.
Was it ‘great’ in terms of play? Well, yes and no. There were mistakes galore, some of them of the jaw-dropping variety – what are you doing, Hugo Lloris? – but I ultimately judge matches by how exciting and entertaining they are, and this year’s final (and the tournament as a whole) left me wildly entertained. Frankly, playing well is overrated a lot of the times in the game of soccer. It’s a game, more than any other, where playing really well will frequently not make a damn bit of difference.
And Croatia were great. They were great in that first half and the first 15 minutes after break. Quite honestly, if the Belgians had approached the semi final in the manor that the Croatians approached the final, Belgium probably would have wound up beating France and winning the damn World Cup. I’m still annoyed about that, even though my winning Las Vegas ticket will cushion the blow:
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| Viva Las Vegas, baby |
And early on in the game, The Official Spouse of In Play Lose actually asked me, “which side are you rooting for,” since I was applauding the Croatians for their efforts. More than anything, I wanted a good game. I didn’t want to sit through another 90 minutes in a dentist’s chair that was France playing pragmatic soccer.
But where was I? Oh, right, the Croatians were great. Their spacing was terrific, they used the full width of the pitch to great effect, they pressed the French high and were committed full-bore to attacking. It was one helluva risk to do that, of course, but it was also the right strategy. It’s what Croatia does best. They have a whole stableful of fantastic players going forward. It’d be stupid to be cautious and minimize those talents. So the Croatians pushed high and pressed the French and really controlled the game. The French defense looked pretty shaky at times, and more than a few lethal Croatian passes fizzed through the box and came perilously close to their desired target. Croatia were all over them for the first 60 minutes.
And they were losing, 2-1, because soccer is a stupid fucking game sometimes.
And to blame both of the goals entirely on the officiating is, well, simplistic. The first goal was an own goal from Mandžukič as he defended a set piece given for a foul on Griezmann that was clearly a flop. It was a flop. It was a bad call, but guess what, bad calls happen all of the time. There are plenty of free kicks given out for bad calls that don’t result in a goal. So play the next play! Defend the set piece! And for godsakes, don’t score on yourselves in the process! The second goal, coming at 1-1 after a spectacular volley by Perisič to equalize, came from a penalty that was, well, by letter of the law probably the right call, but one which would have bothered no one if it hadn’t been given. That sucks. That’s just a tough break, and those happen from time to time. What’s lost in the discussion of whether or not it was a penalty is the fact that the penalty stemmed from a French corner, which stemmed from Vida aimlessly, sloppily shanking a ball over the end line. One play always leads to another, and Vida’s bumbled clearance is what started this whole mess. So yeah, the officials played a part in these two goals, but Croatia also contributed to its own demise, which is what usually happens.
And mistakes happen all the time, of course, but the point here is that, as the underdogs, the Croatians had such a small margin of error when it came to winning this game. France had barely got a kick in during the first 15 minutes, then they get one opportunity and boom, the Croatians are down a goal. All of their excellent work, their precise passing, their adherence to a solid strategy and game plan, came undone in just a couple of moments here and there, both of which went against the run of play. This is why soccer is a stupid game sometimes. Moments change matches, for better and, often, for worse.
But we should love the Croatians for going for it, for not trying to sit back and play it safe. It’s the World Cup final, damn it. You’re the underdogs! Take some risks! And Croatia doubled down and went hell-bent for leather in the second half. It was breathtaking to watch, with the action going end-to-end at a frenzied pace.
At which point the French said, “oh, you want to run with us? How cute,” and then did this and this. Game over.
And that’s just mean. That’s just nasty. That’s the killer instinct, the next gear. That’s Tom Brady throwing two TD’s on consecutive possessions sandwiched around a three-and-out. That’s the Warriors going on a 22-2 run to start the third quarter. That’s “we’re better than you, and we’re going to kill you, and we don’t care who you are.” It’s that sort of display of talent we all want to see, but dread when it happens. I’ve been annoyed with the French during this tourney because we don’t see it enough. They get down a goal against Argentina and score three in 20 minutes. They have the Croatians running at them and taking it to them and then they go scorched earth and end it all. It seemingly takes being legitimately threatened in order for that switch to be flipped and that talent to be unleashed.
I thought the Croatians were terrific in this game. They played with class and they were worthy adversaries to a team which were, in the end, a worthy champion. And France had to win this game. Remember, they lost two years ago on home soil in the finals of the Euros. Lose two straight finals, and some hack with a blog about failure is likely to brand you a bunch of choking dogs. There was legit pressure on this team, and not winning this game would have been seen as nothing other than an enormous failure.
But the French are worthy winners, and we should just get used to them winning all the things from now on, because they were one of the youngest teams in the tournament and still have room to improve. With Varane and Umtiti, they found their center back pairing for the next two World Cups. Pogba played, and behaved, like the future captain of this team that everyone knows he can be. Mbappé, meanwhile, is only 19 years old, he’s humble and well-spoken and exceptionally generous, and he’s one of those unique talents who has literally no limit to what he is capable of doing. He embodies pretty much everything that’s good about the game. He can win everything, as far as I’m concerned. Ballon d’Ors, World Cups, you name it. Go ahead and win all of it. Soccer is moving away from the world of Messi and Ronaldo and into the world of Mbappé. In that regards, the game is obviously in excellent hands.
Not only is this French team ridiculously young for a championship side, but there is room to grow. Deschamps, whom I figured would be fired by now, did a marvelous job coaching this team, all of whom bought into his plan. But they can get better. Deschamps knows it, the players know it. They can be more dynamic, more decisive, and they struck me as a group that is not all that interested in resting on their laurels. They want to get better. This could get really terrifying in the future.
The main reason to be excited about the French is that not only are they barely scratching the surface of their abilities on the pitch, but they are only beginning to wade into their pool of talent. They have more young players in the pipeline, as Paris is the richest talent pool on earth right now. The French are producing enough good players to field entire national teams for other countries: we’ve seen multiple African nations now throw out World Cup sides made up predominantly of members of the diaspora who’ve grown up in the French system (a fact whose long-term impact on CAF football is yet to be determined, but will likely be substantial). There will be more. Lots more. Success is never a guarantee, of course, but the French are well-positioned to dominate international soccer for the next decade.
Not only is France going to keep producing players, but their national team is likely to keep looking like this one does – and this is important to remember, in this age of xenophobia and intolerance. France’s players had their pick of nations for which to play, and they chose to play for France. Pogba could have played for Guinea; Kante could have played for Mali; Mbappé has parents from Cameroon and Algeria, etc., etc. Even a white kid like Griezmann is a child of immigrants. Football runs so deep because, in some way or another, it reflects the true nature of a society – whether or not you want to admit it. It was French striker Karim Benzema who said, “when I score goals, I’m French, and when I don’t, I’m an Arab.” France’s national football team is half-Muslim, more than half-black, and all of those guys were out there shouting, “Vive la France! Vive la republique!” once the World Cup match was over. They are proud to be French, and France should be proud to have them, and have those who are like them.
The World Cup was once the undisputed pinnacle of the game. This has changed, over time, mostly due to the fact that the entire world has integrated. Talent moves from nation to nation, coaching ideas travel across the globe. When I first started watching the World Cup, back in 1982, this rarely happened, so there was a sense of mystery and intrigue about the proceedings. One of the fascinations of that 1982 tourney was that the 19-year-old wünderkind, Diego Maradona, was set to join F.C. Barcelona after the event was over – and a South American venturing to play in Europe was scarce at that time. There was a mystery and an intrigue, an element of the unknown to the proceedings. You knew a side of domestic Brazilians would be good, but you didn’t know just how good they would be.
That uncertainty has been lost, of course, in this day and age. Every great player is plying his trade in Europe somewhere. There are no secrets or golden nuggets waiting for the World Cup to be unearthed. And with integration has come a homogenization of tactics and of techniques. Most everyone plays in a relatively similar way, with only minor tactical variance. It’s really a question now of just how organized you can be. It’s no surprise so many goals in this tourney were scored on set pieces, since set pieces are about all a national team has time to practice for these days.
But I challenge someone to find something better. And no, the Champions League is not better. Some cup tourney where the 3rd-best team in Spain is playing the 4th-best team in England in the final is not the pinnacle of the game. Seriously, go back and watch the Real-Bayern semis from this year’s Champions League, in which two teams with hundreds of millions of euros of talent produced 180 minutes of the most comically awful football imaginable. I don’t know where you’re going to find the ‘best’ of the game, as best is this nebulous concept which lacks definition. Club football rules the calendar year, but I’ll take the World Cup any time. I’ll take the passion and the drama, the resourcefulness among its coaches, the pride and the desire. Give me that any day.
This was nothing short of the best World Cup I’ve ever seen, in terms of day-in, day-out drama and competitiveness. The minnows gave zero fucks and felt like they could punch the big guys in the mouth and challenge them to a street fight. We had tension, we had high drama, we had the throwing of caution to the wind time and again. For consistently fun and energetic and exciting play, this was as good as I can remember. In most of the confederations there have been efforts to try to maintain interest in the international game (including the UEFA Nations League debuting this fall, which sounds ridiculous, but who knows?), but I think the World Cup showed that the international game is alive and well. Not even the largesse and bombast and arrogance of FIFA has managed to kill it quite yet. In time, they still might – that time being this nonsense in 2022 if it actually comes to pass – but if anything, what this event in Russia showed is that those who grossly mismanage the game can, and often are, saved both by those who decide to play it.
