Shakib Al Hasan: A Champion's Trial by Fire in North Sound

On a lively pitch tailor-made for the pacers, Kemar Roach unleashed a masterclass in fast bowling on the opening morning of the first Test. The seasoned campaigner turned tormentor-in-chief, ripping through the Bangladesh top order with precision and venom. Within the first session, the Tigers’ hopes of a solid start lay in tatters. Tamim Iqbal, Mominul Haque, and Mushfiqur Rahim departed in quick succession, leaving the burden of resurrection on their captain’s shoulders.

But Shakib Al Hasan, the prodigal all-rounder reappointed as Bangladesh’s Test skipper, faltered almost immediately. Facing only his second delivery, Shakib nicked an outswinger from Roach that left him grasping at thin air—his comeback as Test captain igniting with a disheartening duck. By the end of a torrid hour, Bangladesh was skittled for an abysmal 43 runs, a collapse as stunning in its brevity as it was in its inevitability.

Under normal circumstances, such a catastrophic performance would have ignited a firestorm of criticism across Bangladesh. The cricket-obsessed nation holds its heroes close but spares no mercy when they stumble. Shakib, a perennial target for his perceived arrogance and inconsistencies, often bears the brunt of such ire. Yet, with the FIFA World Cup capturing the collective imagination, the full force of public discontent was mercifully diluted. Still, murmurs of disappointment pervaded the cricketing fraternity, questioning the ability of their talismanic leader to navigate the storm.

Shakib Al Hasan is no ordinary cricketer. He is, without a doubt, one of the finest all-rounders of his generation—a player blessed with sharp instincts, a brilliant cricketing mind, and the rare ability to single-handedly turn games in his team’s favour. However, at Antigua, none of these qualities were on display. Instead, Shakib appeared a shadow of himself: a man searching for answers under the unrelenting Caribbean sun.

The Antigua pitch offered variable bounce and assistance for bowlers, conditions Shakib might have exploited in his prime. But his deliveries lacked the bite and menace of yesteryears, his trademark arm balls missing their sting. On this day, the champion cricketer seemed adrift, his body language reflecting his internal struggles. Even champions are entitled to off-days, but captains—especially those burdened with the mantle of greatness—are seldom afforded the luxury of excuses.

In Bangladesh, where cricket is both a passion and a barometer of national pride, captains are expected to embody resilience and fortitude. For Shakib, the challenge is magnified. He carries the expectations of a nation and the weight of his own storied legacy. His critics, quick to brand him as aloof or arrogant, often overlook his undeniable contributions to Bangladesh cricket. Yet, when the team falters, the spotlight inevitably finds its way to him.

Antigua served as a grim reminder of the brutal demands of Test cricket. The format, often regarded as the ultimate test of skill and character, leaves no room for complacency. For Shakib, who has occasionally expressed ambivalence toward the rigours of Test cricket, this was a wake-up call. As captain, he must shoulder not only his personal performance but also the collective spirit of the team. Leadership, after all, is about rising in moments of adversity, about becoming the lighthouse that guides the ship through treacherous waters.

Shakib’s story is far from over. He has the intelligence, charisma, and skill to reclaim his place at the summit. But to do so, he must embrace the demands of Test cricket with renewed vigour. He must inspire his team, not just with words but with deeds, proving once again why he is celebrated as one of the world’s finest all-rounders.

For Bangladesh, success in Tests often mirrors Shakib’s fortunes. When he thrives, the Tigers roar. As the dust settles on a disastrous opening day in Antigua, Shakib Al Hasan must rise, for himself and for his team. The Tigers need their captain to lead them out of the abyss, reminding the cricketing world why Bangladesh’s brightest star still burns with untapped brilliance.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Reflection on Brazil’s World Cup Exit: A Journey of Heartbreak and Hope

For a Brazilian football fan, defeat in a World Cup match is more than a loss—it is a national wound that takes years to heal. The sting is sharper when the Samba Boys are eliminated in the knockout stages, their dreams dashed on the grandest stage. Such heartbreak lingers, haunting fans until the next World Cup arrives with a fresh promise of glory. The ghost of that devastating 7-1 defeat to Germany at the Mineirão in 2014 still looms large, and in 2018, hopes were high that Brazil would exorcise those demons in Russia. Yet, it was Belgium who delivered the crushing blow in Kazan, extinguishing Brazil’s aspirations. 

A Tale of Dominance and Defeat 

As the final whistle blew, Brazilian fans clung to the consolation that they had been bested by a superior side on the day. But for many, including myself, that rationale offered little solace. It was a bitter pill to swallow: a Brazil team that dominated the second half, created over twenty chances, and relentlessly tested Belgium’s defense, left the tournament empty-handed. 

The loss was not for lack of effort. Brazil’s players poured their hearts into the game, particularly in the latter stages. Yet, football is a game of fine margins, and Belgium capitalized on theirs. The Selecao, for all their brilliance, were left to rue their missed opportunities. 

Tite’s Revolution and the Road Ahead 

When Tite took the reins from Carlos Dunga, Brazil was a team adrift, struggling to find its identity. Under his stewardship, the Selecao underwent a remarkable transformation. Tite restored confidence to a demoralized squad, turning them into a cohesive, dynamic unit that dominated the World Cup qualifiers. His tactical acumen and ability to instil belief in his players seemed to set the stage for greatness in Russia. 

Yet, the World Cup is an unforgiving arena, and Brazil fell short of expectations. Still, Tite’s work should not be dismissed. His vision and methodology have laid a strong foundation, and he remains the ideal architect for Brazil’s future. His influence could shape a new generation of players capable of fulfilling the Hexa dream in Qatar 2022. 

Temperament: The Missing Ingredient 

Technically, Brazil remains a footballing powerhouse, but temperamentally, they have been found wanting in recent years. In key moments of major tournaments, their mental fragility has been exposed. Even against Costa Rica in the group stages, cracks in their composure were evident. The team’s ability to handle pressure and maintain focus under duress must be addressed. 

Brazil needs players with the mental toughness of legends like Romário. When Romário arrived at Barcelona in 1993, he boldly declared himself the best—and then proved it with his performances. The Selecao must cultivate players who exude confidence and back it up on the pitch, rather than succumbing to theatrics or wilting under pressure. 

The Next Wave of Talent 

Brazil’s footballing pipeline is brimming with promise. Young talents like Vinícius Júnior, Malcom, Richarlison, Arthur, Rodrygo, and Lincoln Henrique represent a bright future. These players, combined with established stars like Philippe Coutinho, Gabriel Jesus, and Casemiro, have the potential to usher in a new era of Brazilian football. 

This new generation needs nurturing, and Tite’s steady hand is crucial. His ability to foster unity and discipline will be instrumental in transforming raw talent into a formidable team. If Tite chooses not to continue, someone like Rogério Micale could take up the mantle. However, Tite’s experience and understanding of the current squad make him the ideal candidate to lead Brazil forward. 

A Time for Renewal 

Brazil’s exit from the 2018 World Cup is a painful chapter, but it also marks the beginning of a new journey. The Selecao must learn from their shortcomings, particularly in terms of mental resilience, and channel their energy into building a stronger, more composed team. 

The task ahead is daunting, but the path to redemption is clear. Brazil’s footballing heritage demands excellence, and the fans deserve nothing less. As the nation turns its eyes to Qatar, hope flickers anew. The dream of Hexa lives on, and with the right leadership and a reinvigorated squad, the Samba Boys can once again dance their way to glory.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

Croatia vs Russia: A Ballet of Nerves, Memory, and Mortal Time

The night was thick with tension in Sochi, where two teams, neither regular patrons of football’s deepest chambers, danced precariously on the edge of history. When Ivan Rakitić stepped up for his penalty—history compressing itself into a single inhalation—he wore the look of a man who had already travelled this particular corridor of fear. Against Denmark he had proved nerveless; here, he merely repeated the ritual, sending Croatia into a delirium that was half joy, half incredulity.

A generation after the swagger of Suker, Boban, and the glory of France ’98, Croatia had clawed its way back to the last four of the world. The echo was complete.

The Small Violence of Vida’s Header

They might have believed it was theirs even before Rakitić’s final word. When Domagoj Vida rose in extra time to meet Luka Modrić’s corner, it was less a thunderous statement than a conspiratorial whisper. The header was neither forceful nor clean, its journey long and uncertain, yet it crossed the line all the same, helped along by bodies that confused Akinfeev’s sightlines.

That ball, slow-motion in its lethality, underlined football’s strange geometry: sometimes it’s not velocity that kills, but the subtle corruption of time and vision.

Russia’s Impossible Dream and the Shock of Self-Belief

It is worth recalling how Russia arrived here, burdened by scorn. Winless in seven before the tournament, the lowest-ranked team in the field, derided as national shame. But football is a solvent for all narrative certainties. A hopeful group stage and that cathartic mugging of Spain cracked open a window to an impossible dream.

They pressed Croatia with unexpected vigour, playing the first half with a boldness utterly alien to their cautious dissection of Spain. Golovin floated close to Dzyuba, a battering ram made flesh, and Cheryshev uncoiled to produce a goal of radiant arrogance—his left foot sculpting a curler from 25 yards that Subašić watched with quiet awe. It was a strike that rewrote the very air, bending it into belief.

Croatia’s Response: The Subtle Recalibration of Fate

But football rarely obeys the initial swell of romance. Zlatko Dalić had left Marcelo Brozović on the bench, electing to start with Modrić and Rakitić unanchored in midfield, inviting Kramarić to float ahead. The gamble bore mixed fruit: Croatia were vulnerable to Russia’s high press, yet once Mandžukić’s intelligent cross found Kramarić unmarked, order was restored. The Russian defence, momentarily hypnotised, left Kramarić free to nod home. The stadium’s silence was like the held breath of an entire nation.

As the match wore on, Dalić adjusted, inserting Brozović and freeing Modrić and Rakitić to orbit higher. Slowly, inexorably, Croatia claimed the middle of the chessboard. Modrić in particular unfurled his influence—turning, pointing, measuring time itself with each delicate touch.

The Tragedy of Fernandes, the Cruelty of the Gods

Extra time swung again, as football often does, like a pendulum with a blade. After Vida’s goal seemed to seal Croatia’s ascendancy, Russia dredged up one final act of collective will. From Dzagoev’s delivery, Mário Fernandes—who would later inhabit the cruel theatre of missed penalties—powered home an equaliser that detonated the Russian bench into a sprint of delirium. They leapt barriers, tumbled into embraces, feeding off a communal madness.

It would not last. Penalties are a distillation of football’s deepest dread, the point at which technique and psychology meet under a withering sun. Smolov attempted a panenka, a fragile conceit that betrayed the nervous mind, and Subašić devoured it. When Fernandes, flush from his heroics, dragged his own attempt wide, it felt as though destiny itself had leaned down to whisper: not tonight.

Modrić’s Wicked Luck, Rakitić’s Inevitable Calm

When Modrić stepped up, he seemed spent. His penalty was modest, paltry even, pushed by Akinfeev onto the post—but football’s impish gods decreed it ricochet across the goal line and nestle inside the opposite net. Even luck appeared to bend to Modrić’s exhausted grandeur.

And then Rakitić, with that studied air of a man signing off the final line of a script already written. Calmly, inevitably, he found the corner. Croatia erupted, a small nation of four million roaring across continents.

Russia’s Poignant Exit and Football’s Brief Illuminations

For Russia, there was only ache, though of the noble kind. Stanislav Cherchesov’s side had advanced far beyond ridicule into a quarter-final that gave them vivid, luminous memories. They did not bolt the doors as they had against Spain; they dared to stride out, to impose themselves, to create. In the end, they died by the same open spirit that made them new heroes.

The Now or Never of Croatia

England’s scouts would have seen all this—the way Croatia’s midfield can smother opponents once Brozović frees Modrić, the warning bells of fatigue in their ageing core, the way Perišić ghosted in to strike the post, the vulnerability on set pieces.

For Croatia, the future is both a promise and a threat. Modrić, Rakitić, Mandžukić, Subašić—all on the wrong side of 30, all knowing that this World Cup might be their last waltz at the grandest ballroom. And so they dance with desperation that makes them dangerous, chasing not merely victory, but immortality against the creeping dark.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Brazil Are Out: The Selecao Are Exposed Temperamentally

The 2018 World Cup witnessed moments that will forever be etched in the minds of football fans. The Kazan Arena, a stadium that has hosted its fair share of drama, became the setting for the sudden exit of two of football’s heavyweights: Germany and Argentina. While Argentina’s downfall was perhaps not entirely unexpected—given their lack of tactical coherence and direction—Germany's exit was nothing short of a riddle. Watching the World Champions bow out to South Korea was a sight that defied belief. Since I began following football in 1988, I have never witnessed a German side perform so poorly on the World Cup stage.

Jonathan Wilson’s words about Kazan will surely echo through the ages: “In years to come when this stadium is a crumbling white elephant, they will sit in almost empty stands, hear the wind whisper across the marsh that surrounds it, and believe what they hear are the ghosts of giants. In three games, Kazan has claimed the winners of 11 World Cups.” The ghosts of footballing greatness lingered in the air, but for some, the spectre of failure overshadowed the hallowed turf.

But the biggest shock for many came on June 7, 2018, when Brazil—still the overwhelming favourite—lost to Belgium in a dramatic quarterfinal. With all due respect to Belgium, who had a formidable team, Brazil's surrender felt like a betrayal of their legacy. The Samba Boys had all the qualities necessary to lift the trophy—flair, skill, and an almost invincible aura. But despite dominating the opening stages, Brazil were undone by a combination of mistakes, missed opportunities, and clinical finishing from Roberto Martínez’s men. To the astonishment of millions of Brazil's loyal supporters, Belgium weathered the storm and advanced to the semifinals for the first time in 32 years.

A Brazil defeat in the knockout stage of a World Cup is a shock to the system, a jarring experience that takes the sheen off the tournament for many. For decades, Brazil’s presence at the global stage has been synonymous with brilliance. Their elimination—especially at the hands of a side like Belgium—was nothing short of heartbreaking for their fans.

Why Brazil Lost - A Tactical Analysis

 Several interwoven factors converged to orchestrate Brazil’s downfall on that fateful night—a tapestry of missteps, structural flaws, and cruel twists of fate. It would not be hyperbole to describe their defeat as the consequence of a sequence of unfortunate decisions and pivotal moments.

At the heart of Brazil’s troubles lay the absence of Casemiro, the indispensable shield of their midfield. Without his disciplined reading of danger and forceful interceptions, Brazil’s spine was left exposed. Fernandinho, tasked with filling this critical role, found himself outmatched throughout. His struggles were twofold: not only did he fail to provide the robust screen needed to thwart Belgium’s incisive counters, but he also unwittingly put Brazil on the back foot with an own goal that would prove costly. His inability to track Kevin De Bruyne or regain control under Belgium’s pressing proved to be one of the night’s decisive fault lines.

Tite’s decision to start Marcelo over the steadier Filipe Luís compounded these issues. Given Romelu Lukaku’s intriguing deployment as a right-sided wide forward, Brazil’s left-back was required to exercise caution and positional discipline—qualities that have never been Marcelo’s foremost attributes. Too often, he was caught ahead of the ball, leaving vast tracts of grass behind him for Lukaku to surge into. It was from precisely such a scenario that Belgium struck again, with Lukaku carrying the ball forward before laying it off to De Bruyne, who dispatched a searing shot beyond Alisson’s reach.

As the match wore on, Brazil gradually rediscovered their rhythm. Tite, seeking to claw the game back, introduced Roberto Firmino and Douglas Costa to sharpen his side’s attacking thrust. Wave after wave of Brazilian attacks ensued—over 20 shots in total—but time and again they found themselves repelled by Belgium’s resolute defending and the towering presence of Thibaut Courtois. The Belgian goalkeeper stood as an impenetrable wall, thwarting Brazil’s most intricate efforts with an almost cruel certainty.

Structurally, Brazil remained in their familiar 4-3-3, albeit with two significant adjustments. Marcelo’s return from injury was supposed to restore verve down the left, while Fernandinho stepped in for the suspended Casemiro. In the early stages, Tite’s side created the more dangerous opportunities, particularly through inswinging corners that tested Belgium’s organisation. Thiago Silva nearly handed Brazil the perfect start but saw his close-range touch ricochet off the post.

Yet football often punishes wastefulness. It was Belgium who struck first, capitalising on Brazil’s vulnerability when Fernandinho inadvertently headed into his own net. Chasing the game from the 13th minute, Brazil began funnelling their attacks down the flanks, as Belgium’s midfield compacted centrally. Neymar, however, found himself shackled by a clever Belgian plan—Marouane Fellaini and Thomas Meunier doubled up effectively, denying him the space to weave his magic.

Marcelo’s overlapping runs were infrequent and oddly hesitant. Too often he lingered behind Neymar, resorting to hopeful crosses that were easily dealt with by Belgium’s imposing back three. The samba spark was conspicuously absent, replaced by a mechanical rhythm that Belgium dealt with comfortably.

The game’s pivotal tactical imbalance lay in Fernandinho’s positioning. With Belgium continually threatening in transitions, the Manchester City midfielder drifted right to cover for the advancing Fagner, abandoning the centre. Even so, this adjustment did little to plug the gaps. It was precisely from this fractured shape that Belgium added their second—Lukaku bulldozing forward, unchallenged, before releasing De Bruyne for a stunning strike that underscored Brazil’s fragility.

Neymar and Coutinho began finding greater joy down the left as the half wore on. Coutinho’s smart movements and curling deliveries probed Belgium’s back line, but the usually incisive runs of Paulinho went missing. Despite Neymar’s darting dribbles, Belgium stood firm and took their two-goal lead into the break.

Tite’s second-half substitutions were proactive but ultimately insufficient. Firmino replaced the peripheral Willian, pushing Gabriel Jesus wide right—a position that nullified his central instincts. Later, Douglas Costa’s introduction gave Brazil direct dribbling threats on both flanks. The Juventus winger relentlessly drove at Belgium, forcing Jan Vertonghen to step out and leaving central gaps. Coutinho began to exploit these spaces, and it was through such a passage that he picked out Renato Augusto, whose delicate header breathed life into Brazil’s hopes.

Augusto’s energetic runs continued to trouble Belgium, and he might have equalised had he not scuffed a gilt-edged chance wide. Belgium, by continuing to leave three players forward, lived dangerously. Neymar and Costa gradually seized control of the channels, stretching Belgium’s defensive shape to its limits. But time, cruelly, slipped away, and with it Brazil’s composure in front of goal.

A late flourish was thwarted by Courtois’ acrobatic intervention, cementing Belgium’s place in the semi-finals and sealing Brazil’s fate. As the whistle blew, it was clear this was not merely a tactical defeat, but a narrative woven from missed chances, individual lapses, and the brilliance of Belgium’s counter-attacking symphony—a night where destiny favoured the Red Devils and left Brazil to contemplate what might have been.

Neymar’s Disappointing Performance

Then there was Neymar. The Brazilian talisman, who had been hyped as the man who would lead his country to World Cup glory, was disappointingly absent when Brazil needed him most. Neymar had his moments, but the spark and magic that we associate with Brazilian football legends like Pelé, Garrincha, Romário, and Ronaldo was missing. His performance was far from the game-changing influence fans had hoped for, and even his PSG teammate, Thomas Meunier, remarked on Neymar's lacklustre display. The weight of expectation proved too much for the 26-year-old, who failed to make the impact that Brazil so desperately needed.

The VAR Controversy

Adding to Brazil’s woes was the controversial role of VAR. Throughout the tournament, Brazil felt that they were not given the necessary support from referees or VAR. The tackle by Vincent Kompany on Gabriel Jesus in the penalty box, which many thought should have been a penalty, was not reviewed, and no action was taken. Whether it was a case of bias or simply bad luck, the lack of favourable calls left many Brazilian fans frustrated and feeling unjustly treated.

Unlucky Brazil?

Luck, as they say, plays a significant role in football, and on that night, Brazil had none on their side. As Jonathan Wilson pointed out, Belgium rode their luck, enduring numerous close calls. Thiago Silva’s header against the post, Paulinho’s miss, and Courtois’s heroic saves were all moments where fortune could have swung in Brazil’s favor. Yet, Belgium remained resilient, cutting through Brazil on the counterattack, always looking dangerous with every break forward.

Martínez’s Tactical Masterstroke

 Head coach Roberto Martinez made two significant changes to Belgium’s starting line-up, introducing Marouane Fellaini and Nacer Chadli in place of Dries Mertens and Yannick Carrasco. Tactically, Belgium retained their now-familiar defensive back three in possession, though this often morphed into a back four when defending deeper.

Notably, Chadli’s role diverged from the conventional wing-back duties Belgium had employed earlier in the tournament. Instead of forming a back five out of possession, the West Bromwich Albion man frequently tucked into central areas, bolstering Fellaini and Axel Witsel in shielding the middle. When Belgium had the ball, however, Chadli and Thomas Meunier stretched wide, reverting to the classic wing-back model and offering critical width.

Belgium were content to cede early possession to Brazil, inviting them to advance their lines. In an intriguing tactical wrinkle, Romelu Lukaku began on the right flank, with Eden Hazard and Kevin De Bruyne fluidly rotating across the forward line. Brazil carved out the initial opportunities and arguably should have taken the lead. But with De Bruyne occupying a more advanced, almost false-nine role, Belgium posed an ever-present menace on the counter. Their rapid transitions from deep began to repeatedly pierce Brazil’s structure, with De Bruyne’s drifting movements forging seamless links between defence and attack.

It was somewhat against the tide of play that Belgium struck first—Fernandinho inadvertently nodding into his own net from a near-post corner. This setback compelled Brazil into a more aggressive posture, precisely the invitation Belgium craved. The ensuing spaces in midfield and defence proved fertile ground for their blistering counters.

In possession, Brazil pushed both full-backs high, with Fernandinho dropping between the centre-backs to orchestrate from deep. Yet the Manchester City man, deputising for the suspended Casemiro, lacked the same defensive acumen in one-on-one duels, and Belgium repeatedly exploited this frailty. De Bruyne roamed with almost spectral freedom, drifting from central pockets into the channels before darting behind Brazil’s last line.

Belgium’s most incisive transitions emerged through the elegant interplay between Hazard and De Bruyne. Often gravitating toward the same flank, the pair drew Brazilian defenders en masse, opening vast swathes on the opposite side. This frequently allowed switches toward Meunier and Fellaini, who together outnumbered Marcelo down Belgium’s right.

Despite enjoying less of the ball, Belgium’s threat only swelled. Their second goal epitomised the ruthless dynamism of their approach. Echoing their late winner against Japan, they surged forward after a defensive clearance. Lukaku’s robust hold-up play and surging carry dismantled Brazil’s midfield shape, before he released De Bruyne, who drove an unerring shot low beyond Alisson into the far corner.

The second half, however, brought renewed challenges. Tite’s introductions of Roberto Firmino and Douglas Costa injected directness and width, pinning Belgium back. Maintaining three players high up the pitch, with De Bruyne only sporadically dropping in to assist, Belgium invited waves of Brazilian pressure. When Brazil finally clawed a goal back, Martinez acted decisively.

Belgium shifted into a more resolute back five, though their earlier fluid transitions between a back three and four had all but evaporated. While this reinforced structure initially offered resistance, Brazil’s relentless advances—buoyed by Firmino’s clever movement and Costa’s aggressive dribbling—had Belgium teetering.

Yet this aggressive Brazilian shape was a double-edged sword. Keeping Hazard, Lukaku, and De Bruyne forward granted Brazil room to build but simultaneously preserved Belgium’s capacity to break decisively. De Bruyne continued to drop and knit passes through midfield, while Hazard and Lukaku’s positioning in the half-spaces stretched Brazil’s defensive fabric thin. Surprisingly, Belgium lacked the clinical touch for a third goal that would have sealed matters unequivocally.

Ultimately, it fell to Thibaut Courtois, with a late sprawling save, to safeguard Belgium’s triumph. As the final whistle confirmed a landmark victory, Martinez’s side stood tantalisingly close—just one win away from an unprecedented World Cup final, their blend of strategic discipline and counter-attacking poetry having undone one of football’s perennial heavyweights.

Conclusion

Brazil’s exit from the World Cup is a bitter pill to swallow. Despite being well-prepared, the dream of a sixth World Cup title—HEXA—remains unfulfilled. This defeat, though painful, is a reminder of the unpredictable nature of football, where the best-laid plans can be undone by a series of unfortunate events and decisions. The shock of Brazil’s departure will linger in the hearts of millions, but as the tournament progresses, the world will move on. For now, Brazil’s golden generation must return home and reflect on a missed opportunity, while Belgium moves on, continuing their quest for glory.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

France vs Uruguay: A Study in Composure, Collapse, and the Cruel Geometry of Football

Didier Deschamps, ever the master of controlled utterance, had little appetite for conjecture. Pressed on whether France could go all the way, the man who knows the heft of the World Cup trophy chose stubbornly to peer no further than the next match. The question was an invitation to hubris—one he wisely declined.

But such caution could not long mask the truth: France are advancing with a quiet inevitability. In Nizhny Novgorod, they eased past Uruguay with a dispassionate efficiency that was almost chilling, winning 2–0 thanks to Raphaël Varane’s artful header and a moment of haunted incompetence from Fernando Muslera. This was no riot of French flair. Instead, it was the cold dismantling of an opponent that had thrived on grit but had little left once their main blade, Edinson Cavani, was dulled by injury.

There is something ominous in France’s progress—dispatching Argentina and Uruguay with six goals combined, all while carrying the sense they are yet to hit their full stride. If there is another gear, the rest of the field should rightly shudder.

Muslera’s Folly: The Long Echo of an Error

Football is as much governed by geometry as by genius. A cross arcs at precisely the moment a defender hesitates; a goalkeeper’s hands tremble infinitesimally on the ball’s spinning leather. Muslera’s calamity was one of these cruel geometries. Antoine Griezmann’s shot was speculative—more a question than an assertion—but it dipped and quivered in the air, asking Muslera if he could solve its riddle. His hands answered wrongly. The ball, contemptuous of his grasp, somersaulted over the line.

Such mistakes are not ephemeral. They echo in careers. Only Muslera will know in his lonelier hours how he allowed the ball to slip through fingers that, a breath earlier, seemed certain.

Varane’s Redemption: The Head that Learned

France’s first goal was a small act of revenge by Raphaël Varane upon his own past. Four years ago in Brazil, it was Varane who lost Mats Hummels for the decisive German goal that ended French hopes. Here, on a warm Russian evening, he timed his glide across Stuani to perfection, meeting Griezmann’s cunningly stuttered free-kick with a header that kissed the far netting.

It was a beautifully plotted sequence—a moment where memory and redemption collided, and where a ghost from Brazil was quietly exorcised. 

Uruguay’s Lost Teeth

Much was made of Uruguay’s snarling defence—one goal conceded in seven matches, a fortress patrolled by the stern visages of Godín and Giménez. But fortresses fall not just to battering rams but to the slow depletion of morale. Without Cavani’s clever violence upfront, Luis Suárez was left to chase shadows, snarling at the void. Cristhian Stuani was a placeholder, not a partner.

When Uruguay did finally glimpse France’s net, it was through Martín Cáceres’ neck-snapping header, clawed away by Hugo Lloris in the match’s most delicate balancing act. Godín’s wild slash at the rebound betrayed a man already suspecting the night was lost.

Óscar Tabárez, dignified even in surrender, admitted as much with a philosophical shrug: “There was a very big distance between the teams.”

Mbappé’s Tarnish: The Art of the Fall

For all the thunderous anticipation whenever Kylian Mbappé galloped into space, there was a petty theatre to his performance. When Cristian Rodríguez brushed past him, the 19-year-old collapsed as though struck by an unseen sniper, rolling across the grass in farcical agony. Godín’s attempt to lift him by the shirt sparked a swarm of indignation, yellow cards brandished like comedic props.

It was a stain on Mbappé’s rising legend—a reminder that in the modern game, play-acting has become as studied as the dribble or volley. One hopes he learns that such scenes diminish his own considerable grandeur.

France: A Quiet Tyranny of Talent

If Uruguay were hoping for a contest of wills, they found instead that France were simply too rich in gifts. Even when they struggled to fashion clear chances—Olivier Giroud still searching vainly for his first goal of the tournament—there was an inevitability about their command. They orchestrated the game’s tempo, reduced Uruguay’s breath to huffs of frustration.

Deschamps’ only real concern came when Pogba, involved in the second-half melee, flirted dangerously with a booking that might have ruled him out of the semi-final. Otherwise, it was a night of composed dominance, blemished only by moments of petty farce.

A Shadow Over the Horizon

France move on, growing more certain, more lethal, yet still with the sense of a storm held in reserve. Deschamps will not dare say it aloud. Perhaps he fears that the moment you name destiny, it begins to slip from your grasp.

But there was a chill in how clinically they dismantled Uruguay—a team famed for its appetite for battle. For France, the war continues, and ominously, it seems they have not yet needed to show all their weapons.