Rare genius: Messi stamped his authority on Qatar 2022 in a manner only the most gifted could have.
| Photo Credit: Getty Images

The oldest footballing lesson in Spain has always been deceptively simple. If you have the ball, the opponent cannot score.

For years, however, that philosophy became both its greatest gift and its greatest burden. Spain monopolised possession, accumulated passes and controlled territory, but too often it left tournaments wondering whether beautiful football alone could still win the biggest prizes. The echoes of tiki-taka lingered long after the golden generation had faded, sometimes becoming an identity that imprisoned rather than liberated.

At this World Cup, Spain did not abandon its football. It rediscovered its purpose.

Luis de la Fuente’s world champions finished the tournament with the best defence, conceding only one goal in eight matches. They dominated possession as La Roja always have, but possession was no longer the destination. It became the platform from which every other part of the game flourished. They pressed ferociously when they lost the ball, attacked vertically when spaces opened and defended with a discipline that suffocated some of the world’s finest forwards.

By the time Rodri lifted the trophy after the 1-0 victory over Argentina, Spain had beaten Portugal, Belgium, France and the defending champion in successive knockout rounds. There could be little argument about the legitimacy of its crown.

The numbers only reinforced what the eye had already seen. France had arrived in the semifinal with the tournament’s most feared attack. Kylian Mbappe, Ousmane Dembele and Michael Olise had combined for 13 goals and 10 assists in their first six matches. Spain reduced them to shadows. Mbappe failed to register a shot on target. France managed only three efforts on target all evening and generated barely 0.15 expected goals from its celebrated front three. Spain’s centre-backs Pau Cubarsi and Aymeric Laporte defended aggressively on the halfway line, while Rodri and Fabian Ruiz erased passing lanes before danger could develop.

ALSO READ: Football is simple for complete midfielder Rodri

Against Belgium in the quarterfinals, Spain patiently waited until Mikel Merino struck the decisive late winner. Against Portugal, it accepted a tactical battle and found the goal required to make it past the Iberian neighbours. In the final, it denied Lionel Messi the fairytale ending that seemed almost scripted.

Every challenge demanded something different and Spain always had an answer.

That adaptability perhaps best explains why this team succeeded where previous Spanish sides had fallen. The Spain of Vicente del Bosque often appeared convinced that enough possession would eventually solve every problem. De la Fuente’s Spain understood that football offers many different questions.

Sometimes the answer was Lamine Yamal. Still only a teenager, Yamal entered the tournament carrying expectations that would have burdened far older footballers. His acceleration, disguised passing and fearlessness repeatedly tilted matches before opponents had organised themselves. Yet unlike so many young stars, he was never asked to carry Spain alone. Around him functioned a collective that was entirely free of hierarchy.

Rodri remained the team’s metronome, rarely hurried, forever choosing the correct pass before pressure arrived. He has now won the Player of the Tournament both in the Euro and the World Cup. Fabian Ruiz produced perhaps the finest tournament of his career, knitting midfield together while contributing goals and relentless defensive work. Nico Williams stretched defences from the opposite flank whenever he played, while Dani Olmo drifted between lines, creating overloads wherever Spain needed them. Mikel Oyarzabal provided the goals to soothe down the nerves after the initial draw with Cape Verde.

The full-backs pushed high enough to create width without exposing the defence and goalkeeper Unai Simon was called upon surprisingly infrequently, a reflection of how effectively those in front of him protected the penalty boxes. Whenever Spain lost possession, the counter-press arrived almost instinctively, often recovering the ball before opponents could string together three passes.

Every attacker defended. Every defender initiated attacks. Possession, pressing and positional discipline became parts of the same movement rather than separate ideas.

There was also a maturity that distinguished this side from many previous champions.

Spain rarely chased matches emotionally. It never seemed rushed by the occasion, whether facing Kylian Mbappe in Dallas, Belgium in Los Angeles or Lionel Messi in the MetLife Stadium. Its football carried the serenity of a team that knew exactly who it was.

For much of the past decade, international football has been shaped by transition, athleticism and chaos. Spain reminded everyone that control still matters. But it also demonstrated that control no longer means simply completing 800 passes.

It means controlling space, tempo, emotions and ultimately the result.

In doing so, de la Fuente’s players achieved something larger than lifting the World Cup. They completed Spanish football’s evolution.

Published – July 21, 2026 07:28 pm IST

The oldest footballing lesson in Spain has always been deceptively simple. If you have the ball, the opponent cannot score.

For years, however, that philosophy became both its greatest gift and its greatest burden. Spain monopolised possession, accumulated passes and controlled territory, but too often it left tournaments wondering whether beautiful football alone could still win the biggest prizes. The echoes of tiki-taka lingered long after the golden generation had faded, sometimes becoming an identity that imprisoned rather than liberated.

At this World Cup, Spain did not abandon its football. It rediscovered its purpose.

Luis de la Fuente’s world champions finished the tournament with the best defence, conceding only one goal in eight matches. They dominated possession as La Roja always have, but possession was no longer the destination. It became the platform from which every other part of the game flourished. They pressed ferociously when they lost the ball, attacked vertically when spaces opened and defended with a discipline that suffocated some of the world’s finest forwards.

By the time Rodri lifted the trophy after the 1-0 victory over Argentina, Spain had beaten Portugal, Belgium, France and the defending champion in successive knockout rounds. There could be little argument about the legitimacy of its crown.

The numbers only reinforced what the eye had already seen. France had arrived in the semifinal with the tournament’s most feared attack. Kylian Mbappe, Ousmane Dembele and Michael Olise had combined for 13 goals and 10 assists in their first six matches. Spain reduced them to shadows. Mbappe failed to register a shot on target. France managed only three efforts on target all evening and generated barely 0.15 expected goals from its celebrated front three. Spain’s centre-backs Pau Cubarsi and Aymeric Laporte defended aggressively on the halfway line, while Rodri and Fabian Ruiz erased passing lanes before danger could develop.

Against Belgium in the quarterfinals, Spain patiently waited until Mikel Merino struck the decisive late winner. Against Portugal, it accepted a tactical battle and found the goal required to make it past the Iberian neighbours. In the final, it denied Lionel Messi the fairytale ending that seemed almost scripted.

Every challenge demanded something different and Spain always had an answer.

That adaptability perhaps best explains why this team succeeded where previous Spanish sides had fallen. The Spain of Vicente del Bosque often appeared convinced that enough possession would eventually solve every problem. De la Fuente’s Spain understood that football offers many different questions.

Sometimes the answer was Lamine Yamal. Still only a teenager, Yamal entered the tournament carrying expectations that would have burdened far older footballers. His acceleration, disguised passing and fearlessness repeatedly tilted matches before opponents had organised themselves. Yet unlike so many young stars, he was never asked to carry Spain alone. Around him functioned a collective that was entirely free of hierarchy.

Rodri remained the team’s metronome, rarely hurried, forever choosing the correct pass before pressure arrived. He has now won the Player of the Tournament both in the Euro and the World Cup. Fabian Ruiz produced perhaps the finest tournament of his career, knitting midfield together while contributing goals and relentless defensive work. Nico Williams stretched defences from the opposite flank whenever he played, while Dani Olmo drifted between lines, creating overloads wherever Spain needed them. Mikel Oyarzabal provided the goals to soothe down the nerves after the initial draw with Cape Verde.

The full-backs pushed high enough to create width without exposing the defence and goalkeeper Unai Simon was called upon surprisingly infrequently, a reflection of how effectively those in front of him protected the penalty boxes. Whenever Spain lost possession, the counter-press arrived almost instinctively, often recovering the ball before opponents could string together three passes.

Every attacker defended. Every defender initiated attacks. Possession, pressing and positional discipline became parts of the same movement rather than separate ideas.

There was also a maturity that distinguished this side from many previous champions.

Spain rarely chased matches emotionally. It never seemed rushed by the occasion, whether facing Kylian Mbappe in Dallas, Belgium in Los Angeles or Lionel Messi in the MetLife Stadium. Its football carried the serenity of a team that knew exactly who it was.

For much of the past decade, international football has been shaped by transition, athleticism and chaos. Spain reminded everyone that control still matters. But it also demonstrated that control no longer means simply completing 800 passes.

It means controlling space, tempo, emotions and ultimately the result.

In doing so, de la Fuente’s players achieved something larger than lifting the World Cup. They completed Spanish football’s evolution.

Published – July 21, 2026 07:28 pm IST

Legendary status: No one can take away the imprint Messi has left on this tournament.
| Photo Credit: Getty Images

Legendary status: No one can take away the imprint Messi has left on this tournament.
| Photo Credit: Getty Images

Lineups are announced and players are warming up.

Spain: Unai Simon; Pedro Porro, Pau Cubarsi, Aymeric Laporte, ‌Marc Cucurella; Rodri (captain), Fabian Ruiz, Dani Olmo; Lamine Yamal, Alex Baena, Mikel Oyarzabal.

Argentina: Emiliano ⁠Martinez; Gonzalo Montiel, Cristian Romero, Lisandro ⁠Martinez, Nicolas Tagliafico; Rodrigo De Paul, Enzo Fernandez, ‌Alexis Mac Allister, Nicolas Gonzalez; Lionel Messi (captain), Julian Alvarez.

Djokovic interacts with Messi at the fest.
| Photo Credit: AFP

Who will bathe in glory? The 20-year-old Messi and the five-month-old Yamal at a photoshoot in Barcelona in 2007. The two will now vie for football’s greatest honour.
| Photo Credit: AP

By the time Argentina’s players emerged from the tunnel on Wednesday evening, familiar songs had already begun rolling around the Mercedes-Benz Stadium. The crowd came from Buenos Aires and Cordoba, from Rosario and Mendoza.

But they also came with unmistakably different accents from Kolkata and Dhaka, from Kochi and Varanasi, from South Asian immigrant neighbourhoods across the United States.

Every World Cup creates adopted nations. Few have ever been adopted with the devotion that Argentina inspires in South Asia.

The relationship has always seemed improbable. Nearly 16,000 kilometres separate Buenos Aires from Dhaka or Thiruvananthapuram. There is little shared history, little common language and few cultural overlaps.

Yet every four years, countless homes across India and Bangladesh become temporary Argentine territory. Streets fill with blue-and-white flags, children paint their faces, neighbourhoods get together to pray for Diego Maradona and now Lionel Messi.

The connection has outlived generations.

For many, it began with Diego weaving through England in the summer of 1986, turning football into folklore. For another generation, it arrived through Messi, whose genius travelled effortlessly through the television screens into homes where sleep was willingly sacrificed for matches played in distant time zones.

Among those inside the stadium were a father and son from Varanasi. Vipul, who runs an export business, was a young man when Maradona conquered Mexico.

Like millions across the subcontinent, He found himself bewitched by the No. 10 in the sky-blue shirt and four decades back he had to go on a hunt in Delhi’s Sarojini Market to get a cheap replica of the famous jersey. The shirt has now faded, the hair greyed, but the affection remains.

“Television was still a novelty in India back then and the 1986 World Cup was perhaps the first time when all of us watched live international football. It almost felt like Maradona was fighting against the entire world and winning. You had to be bewitched by his genius,” Vipul said.

For son Anmol, his Argentina is Messi’s Argentina. The tears in 2014, the Copa America disappointments, the redemption in 2021 and, finally, Qatar in 2022 are his footballing memories.

Now working in the United States, he persuaded his father to make the journey to Atlanta to support the team they love. Together they watched Argentina overturn England to reach another World Cup final.

They are now heading north to New Jersey, hoping to witness Messi lifting another World Cup trophy.

Football offers opportunities for fathers and sons to discover the same love through different heroes. There are many from Dhaka, Chittagong, Kolkata, Thiruvananthapuram, Kochi, who have made the same journey to follow the blue-and-white in the United States.

Rupak Saha, sporting the blue-and-gold of his beloved East Bengal, was in Atlanta shouting for Messi. “We want Messi to give us another World Cup. We are all here for him,” he said.

The scale of that affection even surprises those inside the dressing room. On the eve of the semifinal, a Bangladeshi journalist asked Lionel Scaloni about the extraordinary support Argentina receives in Bangladesh.

He admitted that his players remain astonished that people on the other side of the world celebrate victories with the same emotion as families in Argentina.

“They are surprised,” Scaloni said. “Thrilled that a country on the other end of the world supports us, loves us and feels proud wearing our blue-and-white stripes.”

Perhaps that is the greatest compliment any national team can receive.

Argentina has also attracted criticism throughout this tournament. Opponents have questioned refereeing decisions, social media has filled with accusations of favourable treatment, the unfurling of a Falklands banner, repeated confrontation with the referees and opponents have ignited arguments.

Yet those debates have barely dented Argentina’s global appeal.

Inside stadiums across this World Cup, the neutral support often seems to tilt unmistakably towards Argentina. Every Messi touch still draws a collective gasp. Every comeback is celebrated by supporters with no Argentine passport. And among those neutrals, South Asians remain remarkably visible.

Perhaps it is because Argentina has always offered more than victories. Its football has carried romance and suffering in equal measure.

It has produced flawed heroes, impossible dribbles, glorious failures and unforgettable redemption. Maradona gave millions permission to believe that genius could overcome power. Messi showed that perseverance could eventually overcome heartbreak.

For countless supporters in India and Bangladesh, those stories are deeply personal, untouched by the oceans that lie between them.

As Atlanta emptied into the humid Georgia night, Argentine songs once again echoed through the streets. Some voices belonged to people returning home to Buenos Aires. Others would soon begin journeys back to Dhaka, Kolkata, Kochi, Chennai, Delhi or Varanasi.