“And when good soccer happens, I give thanks for the miracle and I don’t give a damn which team or country performs it.” Eduardo Galeano, Soccer in Sun and Shadow
So, France has won the World Cup, beating a spirited Croatia side by a 4-2 margin. For long stretches of the Final, Croatia was ascendent, the better side, but as they did throughout this tournament, France did what they needed to do in order to win. The football wasn’t always free-flowing or lovely or technically brilliant or pretty, but it was effective. France won ugly when it needed to, usually a characteristic of a champion. Half the possession, many fewer corners than Croatia, no problem. France has players who can flick the switch and turn in a moment of quality.
Croatia deserves all the credit it has garnered from the media and public. If you want to see a side with spirit and resiliency, one that will never quit no matter what, look no further. Luka Modric was the best player in this tournament, followed, perhaps, by a duo of my favorites, Eden Hazard and N’golo Kante. A true football fan has to admire what Croatia achieved, a small nation not expected to go deep into the tournament, that defied the experts and the odds and proved they belonged in the Final. Modric, Rakitic, Perisic and Mandzukic proved that they deserved to play in the Final, that Croatia wasn’t a fluke.
Winning the World Cup takes a conspiracy of fortune -- an advantageous sorting in the group stage, fortunate pairings in the knockout rounds, being on the better side of the draw, having a healthy side that peaks at the right time, a measure of pure luck. To lift the trophy a lot has to go right. Football is a game of fine margins, inches, feet, seconds. Having what seems to be an unbeatable squad of talented players isn’t enough -- just ask Germany, Argentina, Brazil or Spain. In this tournament, giants were toppled, and some of the finest players in the world took an early vacation. Talent is one thing, a necessary thing, but so are intangibles like resilience, heart, and belief. Croatia believed. After storming to victory against Japan in one of the greatest comebacks in World Cup history, Belgium believed.
France should have won the 2016 European championship. They were on home soil, after all, and before thirty minutes of the final were over, Portugal’s star player, Cristiano Ronaldo, was subbed off with an injury. The door was wide open, big enough for a locomotive to plow through, but France lost. They avenged that loss in Russia. Kante and Griezmann and Giroud and Pogba and Mbappe, the latter all of nineteen, with the ability to change the game when the opposition got stretched and space opened before him.
The 2018 World Cup was one long feast, a banquet table groaning under the weight of a hundred delicacies; Russia gave us drama and heroics and passion and heart-stopping anxiety; Mexico beating Germany, Croatia stunning Argentina, Sweden going as far as it did, Russia ousting Spain.
When the tournament began I hoped Belgium would lift the cup, and after Belgium, France, and my third choice was Argentina, a pity vote for Messi. If Croatia had won, I would have been happy because they showed incredible mettle and teamwork. For the last month my life has revolved around who was playing who and at what stage. After the winnowing of the group stages there are few easy matches. The deeper into the tournament a team ventures, the tougher the going. Didier Deschamps and his team deserved to lift the trophy in the pelting Moscow rain.
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