Argentina – Campeon del Mundo

The World Cup is over. Argentina won it. And it was, in short, a remarkable final.

I sometimes think that there is an idea that a game has to be brilliant for 90 minutes, from the first whistle to the last, to deserve the title of ‘big game’, but that’s not really how football works. The way it works is that most of the time it’s ordinary, mundane, maybe even bordering on tedious, but then something happens that elevates our experience.

Yesterday’s game was exactly that. Argentina was deservedly 2-0 ahead. A first-half penalty from Lionel Messi and then some excellent team play that saw Angel di Maria double the lead. France had been terrible, so much so that a double substitution before half time saw Dembélé and Giroud retired; the ignominy of that as a player must be difficult, but in truth, Didier Deschamps could have justifiably rolled 9 or 10 if he had the ability to do so. They were slightly better in the second half, but as the clock ticked down to 80 minutes, they never seemed to threaten Argentina’s goal or Messi’s World Cup dream.

What is so amazing and exciting about soccer is the way a game can take a sharp turn in unexpected ways. A long ball over the defense should not have caused any danger, but instead of clearing it first, Nicolás Otamendi, the Argentinian Mustafi, dallied and France were awarded a penalty. Kylian Mbappé took a step forward and although Emi Martínez went on the right track, it was 2-1. Mbappé’s sensational volley a minute later went over the keeper and he made it 2-2, and the game hadn’t taken such a sharp turn as a full upside down and upside down spin.

Messi’s shot could have won it in stoppage time, but Lloris made a good save and we went into extra time. I thought France would. Losing a 2-0 lead in the last 10 minutes of a final can take the energy out of the most willing legs, but it seemed like the fairy tale had been written when Messi made it 3-2, thanks to the ass of a defender playing a man from the side

It sure was this. This was the story that so many would have written. The greatest player of all, seeing his last chance to win the World Cup almost slip away, but for him to win it came close to death. The fairy tale. Except that fairy tales are really horrible. Filled with horrible people and horrible monsters and children being eaten by witches and wolves in all sorts of nasty settings. France were awarded their second penalty after a handball in the box that must have been grim for Messi, and I’m sure he knew his PSG teammate Mbappé was not going to miss.

3-3, Mbappé with a hat-trick, and then, right at the deadlock, an incredible sequence when France had a chance to win, but Martínez made an incredible save, after which the ball went the other way and Lautaro Martínez had an incredible chance to win, but deflected his header wide. Breathless things.

So, to penalties. First Mbappé, his third penalty of the match. Emphatic, like his talent. 1-0. Messi responds, none of that waiting for the 5th penalty to take the nonsense of glory. A captain who leads by example. And what a pity. To do what he did in these circumstances, with so much pressure on him, just incredible. The weight of a nation on top of everything that must have been spinning inside him, and he rolls in half as Lloris stepped away.

We know what happened next. Anguish for those who failed, glory for those who held their nerves on the biggest stage and victory for Argentina: World Champion.

Just an awesome soccer game. The perfect example of why everyone wants the World Cup because regardless of how much scrutiny is applied, regardless of ongoing criticism or otherwise, the beautiful game sucks you in until that’s all that matters. I look back on my own formative World Cup experiences, 1978 and 1982 in particular, and I think of all the boys and girls who watched their first final yesterday and how those memories will be indelibly etched on the football slate in their minds.

I know that any talk about the romance of Messi lifting the World Cup can be countered with all sorts of rebuttals, but he’s the best player I’ve ever seen and I’m happy for him. He is not just any footballer and, although he has won everything at the national level, the international stage has not always been easy for him. Especially since his entire career in the Argentina jersey has paralleled that of the man who preceded him, who inspired his last World Cup victory.

As a fan of the game, to have lived through separate eras where two diminutive left-handed geniuses emerged from the same nation, each with their own claim to the title of greatest ever, is truly something special. Messi, like Maradona before him, elevates every team he plays for, but similarly, the supporting cast was also vital. What a tournament Alexis Mac Allister has had, for example. The Brighton man is a World Cup winner. Also former gunner Emi Martinez, who I know divides opinion for reasons I fully understand, but imagine if Neal Maupay hadn’t injured Bernd Leno on that fateful day. I don’t think he is where he is now. Soccer writes scripts that would be rejected by Hollywood for being too unrealistic.

I don’t think today is the day to reflect on the tournament as a whole, so all I can do is congratulate both teams on the best final I can remember. My condolences to France, who came so close to doing something extraordinary: retaining the World Cup. In the end, the tears were theirs, the joy was Argentina’s, and the spotlight really was on Lionel Messi (once Gianni Infantino, the limelight-grabbing sociopath, got out of the way).

For more on the final and the World Cup in general, James and I recorded the Arsecast Extra last night, it’s ready for you below, or on your favorite podcasting app right now.

We’ll have a final World Cup show on Patreon later today. For now, have fun.

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