I am not the biggest sports fan in the world by any measure, but do root for my various home teams and enjoy a good contest sometimes even without context, but I do have an enduring weakness for international team sports.
When all the talk of contract negotiations, free agents, salary caps and whole teams being bought and sold like chattels, it can be difficult to discern the difference between the sports pages and financial section sometimes. But in an event like the World Cup, when everyone competes for a spot on the national side and then fights to qualify for the tourney and then tries to battle their way out of group and eventually lift one of the globe's most iconic sports trophies, and only get to make the attempt once every four years? That's something pretty special.
And even though the governing body is almost irredeemably corrupt and the host nation bribed their way to an economic and sportswashing victory (and tip my hat to anyone with more willpower than myself, able to boycott this event), there are still thrilling stories to be found.
Canada scoring their first goal at a World Cup in more than three decades.
Amazing upsets like Saudia Arabia beating the eventual champions, Argentina.
So much of the world lining up to cheer for Morocco, the first African team to make it to the semi-finals.
I have a number of teams I cheer for until I have to make a choice (which, tragically, seldom happens) including England, Holland, my home nation (obvsly!) and most any African team (who seem to have a lot of the best nicknames, like Les Fennecs, the Atlas Lions and the Black Stars). But as we went into the final, it was less about my cheering for Argentina and Lionel Messi and more cheering against France, the returning champions.
It wasn't always this way - I remember scheduling our return from a trip to Gettysburg in 1998 so that a friend could watch the final between France and Brazil, with el Canarhinhos heavily favoured but les Bleus obliterating them 3-0, a true underdog victory.
But their behaviour on and off the pitch in 2010, including a player strike and the team being recalled to France in semi-disgrace, really soured me on the team. And so I have resolutely cheered against the Gallic side, despite their obvious skill, despite their many strengths, and two marvelous players like the goalkeeper Lloris and 23-year-old phenom Mbappe.
After today though, and what many commentators are calling the greatest Wrold Cup Final in the tournament's near century of existence, and possibly one of the greatest matches of football in the history of the sport, I can let it go.
I was cheering for Argentina, eager to show up the reigning champions and hoping retiring legend Lionel Messi could gain the last accolade that has eluded him, and I got that, but I got so much more.
- Exemplary football played by gifted athletes with skill and tenacity.
- Besides stars like Messi and Mbappe, the chance to marvel at the astonishing speed of Enzo Fernandes and the astounding goalkeeping of Emiliano Martinez/
- An indomitable French side which, despite rumours of a virus infecting the team, managed to come back from a 2-0 deficit to push the game into extra time, then answer a goal late in extra time to push the game into PKs.
- Fantastic officiating, with Polish referee Szymon Marciniak making bold, tough calls in a high-pressure environment.
- After a grueling tournament and 120 minutes of play,m descending into a penalty shootout - possibly one of the most feared and hated ways to end a major tournament until you realize they used to replay the entire match or decide it with a coin toss.
Football is not everyone's sport, and overall I probably prefer the pace of hockey, but watching world-class athletes run around an enormous pitch for up to two hours of virtually uninterrupted play gives them a claim on standards of endurance no other team sport can hope to match.
It also might explain the surfeit of emotions at the ends of every elimination game: players on both sides with tears in their eyes of either relief or anguish, grown men wracked with sobs, inconsolable due to lost opportunities that may never come again.
Today's final game was an astonishing window into human competition, in all its artificiality and sincerity. It ensured a legend for Messi bordering on divinity, and has wiped away my dispassion for an excellent French squad that I have no doubt will be a force to be reckoned with yet again in 2026.
Truly a match for the ages, and a sporting event the likes of which I may never see again. Amazing!
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