The Crown of a Generation: France at Euro 2000

On July 2, 2000, joy erupted in the stands of De Kuip, yet Roger Lemerre’s face betrayed no such ecstasy. As teammates embraced in the ecstasy of Sylvain Wiltord’s last-gasp equaliser against Italy, the French coach stood still, his expression unreadable. He had learned too well that football, in its cruel theatre, never concedes its drama until the very end.

What unfolded was not merely a comeback but the apotheosis of a team that had already carved its name into history. Two years after conquering the world on home soil, France seized the European crown, fashioning a “grand slam” that only a few national sides in history could claim. Yet the triumph was double-edged, prolonging the reign of an ageing core and masking fissures that would later crack open in the disastrous 2002 World Cup.

Jacquet’s Shadow and Lemerre’s Inheritance

Lemerre’s journey was not one of sudden ascendancy. For years, he had worked in the shadow of Aimé Jacquet, absorbing the lessons of a man besieged by critics yet vindicated in the most emphatic way imaginable. Jacquet’s defiance in 1998—his refusal to appease the press, his insistence on youth over the cult of Cantona—etched a philosophy of independence. Lemerre inherited not only Jacquet’s tactical framework but also his stoic resilience against outside noise.

If Jacquet’s revolution was one of demolition and reconstruction, Lemerre’s was of continuity. He kept faith with the warriors of 1998—Blanc, Deschamps, Desailly—while slowly blooding new strikers such as Wiltord, Anelka, Henry, and Trezeguet. This delicate balance between loyalty and renewal would define his reign, for better and worse.

Zidane and the Rhythm of an Era

France’s tactical identity rested, as so many opponents learned bitterly, on the velvet feet of Zinedine Zidane. In an era before gegenpressing and relentless verticality, Zidane thrived in the slower cadences of play. He was not a strategist in the modern sense but a conjurer—slowing, pausing, dribbling into traps only to dissolve them with elegance.

Jonathan Wilson aptly described him as “a playmaker of genius but limited pace and defensive instinct.” Yet it was precisely this freedom from defensive duty that gave France its aura. In the 4-2-3-1, Zidane dictated tempo while Henry and the wide forwards stretched half-spaces. In the 4-3-1-2, the burden fell to Vieira and Petit, engines who oscillated endlessly between the flanks and the centre, permitting Zidane to remain the untouched pivot of invention.

The age of Deschamps, Blanc, and Desailly limited mobility but not wisdom. Their collective positional awareness created a structure resilient enough to absorb pressure, even if vulnerable in open duels. France’s defensive strength lay less in energy than in shape—a compactness that funneled opponents wide, while Zidane floated back into pockets to choke passing lanes.

The Final: Breaking the Italian Labyrinth

Italy’s defensive rigour in the Euro 2000 final was a tactical masterpiece. With a 5-2-3 that suffocated space, they aimed to starve Zidane of the ball. “Every square metre was ceded so grudgingly,” wrote David Lacey in The Guardian, capturing the suffocating precision of the Azzurri.

Yet France, as in their semi-final against Portugal, revealed a crucial quality: adaptability. They never dominated possession, but they manipulated rhythm. Midfielders rotated, full-backs surged in overloads, and Henry darted into channels to destabilise the rigid Italian backline. When Marco Delvecchio struck in the 55th minute, the test became psychological as much as tactical.

Lemerre’s calm on the touchline seemed to seep into his players. Wiltord’s desperate equaliser in stoppage time was less a stroke of fortune than the manifestation of belief: a team unwilling to concede to destiny. And when Trezeguet’s golden volley ripped into the net in the 103rd minute, it was not merely a goal—it was the culmination of a cycle of greatness.

Legacy of a Golden Generation

That French team embodied paradox: aged yet irresistible, tactically traditional yet capable of fluid improvisation. From 1998 to 2001, as Marcel Desailly later remarked, they were the best in the world, precursors to Spain’s later dynasty. Their triumphs, however, delayed the inevitable need for renewal. By 2002, fatigue and complacency had calcified into vulnerability, and their crown slipped at the first hurdle.

Still, their place in football’s pantheon is unshakable. They were not merely champions but dramatists of the game, offering the sport moments of exquisite beauty and unbearable tension. Many of those players went on to become voices in media, mentors in coaching, or figures in public life. Yet the indelible image remains that night in Rotterdam: Lemerre, stoic on the touchline, his players sculpting glory in the crucible of time.

The footsteps they left remain colossal, almost oppressive for any subsequent Équipe Tricolore. For in those years, France did not just win—they defined what it meant to reign.

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Faisal Caesar

Cristiano Ronaldo’s Redemption: Portugal’s Grit and Grace Under Pressure

In a night of high drama and unyielding tension, Portugal edged past Slovenia to secure a quarterfinal showdown with France. It was a match that showcased both the resilience of Cristiano Ronaldo and the defiance of a Slovenian side that came agonizingly close to a historic upset. 

For Ronaldo, the night oscillated between agony and redemption. His missed penalty in extra time—a save of sheer brilliance by Jan Oblak—seemed destined to define the game. Yet, as is so often the case with the greats, he found a way to rewrite the narrative. 

When called upon again in the penalty shootout, Ronaldo exorcised the earlier miss with a composed strike into the opposite corner. His celebration was a symphony of emotion: hands clasped in prayer, palms raised in apology, and tears streaming in relief as Portugal’s supporters erupted in ecstasy. 

 The Wall That Was Slovenia 

Slovenia, unheralded and underestimated, delivered a defensive masterclass. Organized and disciplined, they frustrated Portugal’s intricate play, often retreating into a deep block with all ten outfield players behind the ball. Their defiance was epitomized by Oblak, whose brilliance kept Slovenia alive through 120 minutes. 

Portugal dominated possession, recording more than double Slovenia’s passes and touches, yet struggled to convert territorial advantage into tangible threats. Ronaldo, still chasing a goal in major tournaments after eight appearances, saw three free-kick attempts sail off target, with one forcing a save. 

Slovenia’s stubbornness extended into the shootout, but there, their fairytale faltered. Diogo Costa emerged as Portugal’s saviour, delivering three sensational stops. His final save, a low dive to deny Benjamin Verbič, broke Slovenian hearts and underscored his burgeoning reputation as one of Europe’s finest goalkeepers. 

Tears and Triumph 

For all the tactical battles on the field, the night was as much about raw emotion. Ronaldo, visibly distraught after his first penalty miss, wept uncontrollably on the pitch. His vulnerability was mirrored in the stands, where his mother shed tears of her own. 

Yet, when Bernardo Silva converted the decisive penalty to seal a 3-0 shootout victory, it was a moment of collective catharsis. Portugal had survived not just the Slovenian resistance but also their own anxieties, emerging stronger for the test. 

 Looking Ahead 

Portugal’s progression sets up a tantalizing quarterfinal clash with France, a team whose attacking struggles mirror Portugal’s recent challenges. While the focus will inevitably be on Ronaldo, Portugal must harness the broader strengths of their squad. Costa’s heroics, Silva’s composure, and a resilient defensive unit provide a solid foundation. 

Slovenia, though defeated, left the tournament with heads held high. Their defensive organization and tenacity showcased the beauty of the underdog spirit, a reminder that football’s magic lies as much in resistance as in flair. 

For Ronaldo and Portugal, the journey continues—fraught with challenges but imbued with belief. In the margins of greatness, where heartbreak and glory often coexist, they march on, seeking redemption and the ultimate prize.  

Note;: Excerpts from The Guardian

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Faisal Caesar 

France’s Paradoxical Progress: A Tale of Resilience and Expectation

France’s journey to the quarterfinals of the Euros paints a paradox: a team brimming with world-class talent that has, so far, relied more on fortune than fluency in front of goal. With just three goals to their name—one from the penalty spot and two courtesy of opposition mistakes—they remain enigmatic contenders, both frustrating and formidable.

It took nine minutes for Antoine Griezmann to register the first shot against Belgium, but it was a weak attempt, emblematic of France’s early struggles. By halftime, France had fired nine shots to Belgium’s solitary effort, yet none carried a genuine threat. The attack, led by marquee names like Kylian Mbappé and Marcus Thuram, appeared laborious, lacking the incisiveness often defining French football.

There were flashes of ingenuity: Thuram’s near-post headers, Aurelien Tchouaméni’s long-range effort sailing over, and Mbappé’s determined runs down the left. But these moments were fleeting, swallowed by a malaise of predictability.

Belgium, for their part, countered with verve. Jérémy Doku and Yannick Carrasco were perpetual motion machines, driving their side forward. Loïs Openda’s sharp turn into the box created an opportunity for Carrasco that might have been capitalized upon with better precision. Kevin De Bruyne, ever the orchestrator, nearly caught Mike Maignan off guard with a cunning free-kick masked by a wall of bodies.

A Second-Half Awakening?

After the interval, France added a degree of urgency. The passes zipped faster; the intent was clearer. Mbappé and N’Golo Kanté combined to set up Tchouaméni for a curling effort that finally forced Koen Casteels into a meaningful save. Thuram’s aerial dominance continued but without the finishing touch. And when Mbappé sliced wide after being teed up by Griezmann and Jules Koundé, frustration mounted.

It wasn’t until the 84th minute, after 66 attempts across four matches, that France finally seemed to score from open play—only for it to be revealed as another own goal, Jan Vertonghen inadvertently deflecting Randal Kolo Muani’s strike. It encapsulated France’s campaign: promising build-up, fortuitous conclusion.

The Silent Anchors

Amidst the offensive misfires, France’s defensive solidity has been their bedrock. William Saliba, a colossus in the backline, boasts an impressive record: no goals conceded from open play in his 387 minutes of European Championship football. Against Belgium, he was immaculate, not losing possession even once in the first half.

Jules Koundé, tirelessly patrolling the right flank, covered 10.65 kilometres, recovered possession seven times, and created five chances, including one deemed a "big opportunity." His versatility and energy kept Belgium’s attackers at bay while contributing to France’s forward thrusts.

And then there’s N’Golo Kanté, the quiet heartbeat of Les Bleus. With a staggering 95% passing accuracy, a flawless dribble record, and a knack for delivering key passes, Kanté broke Xavi’s record for the most European Championship appearances without defeat. His influence remains understated yet indispensable.

The Missing Conviction

While the defensive and midfield units have excelled, the frontline has flattered to deceive. The talent is undeniable, but conviction—a ruthless edge—is missing. France’s campaign teeters on the precipice of potential unfulfilled, yet their resilience cannot be dismissed.

For all their flaws, this team’s ceiling remains as high as their pedigree suggests. With quarterfinal opponents looming, France must rediscover the incisiveness that has defined champions of old. If they can, the title is still theirs to claim. If not, their paradoxical journey might end as curiously as it has unfolded.

Note;: Excerpts from The Guardian

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Faisal Caesar 

Spain’s sublime symphony silences Georgia, eyes fixed on Germany

When Spain conceded an own goal early on, a familiar fear gripped the hearts of their supporters—was this the beginning of an accident waiting to happen? But like a high-performance engine merely sputtering before igniting in full force, that momentary misstep dissolved into irrelevance as Spain unfurled a spellbinding performance. Georgia's hopes of an upset were buried beneath a masterclass in precision, flair, and control—a clinic in modern football.  

Goals from Rodri, Fabián Ruiz, Nico Williams, and Dani Olmo demonstrated the seamless marriage of quality, composure, and velocity, marking Spain as clear favourites moving deeper into the tournament. From the outset, it was evident that this Spanish side, blessed with the leadership of Rodri and the electric talents of Lamine Yamal and Williams, would be too much for the lowest-ranked team still standing.  

Georgia, ranked 74th in the world and 35th in Europe, fought bravely, but their fairytale campaign was always destined to meet an abrupt end here. Credit must be given to Willy Sagnol’s team for their journey to this stage, but Spain’s dominance was absolute from the very first whistle.  

It took Nico Williams all of 50 seconds to glide past Otar Kakabadze and barely 100 seconds more for Fabián Ruiz to unleash Spain’s first warning shot. By the 10th minute, goalkeeper Giorgi Mamardashvili was already called upon to make the first of his nine saves—a prelude to a long and relentless night. Spain’s grip on the match was evident in every metric: 86% possession and nine shots before Georgia could muster even a single attempt.  

And yet, football is a fickle game. Despite their dominance, Spain momentarily found themselves 1-0 down, and the slightest wobble crept into their rhythm. It was Rodri, Spain’s midfield maestro, who restored order with a stunning strike to level the scoreline. A moment of controversy followed, as Georgia’s coach, Willy Sagnol, argued that Alvaro Morata had interfered from an offside position. VAR disagreed, and the goal stood—much to Georgia’s dismay.  

Spain’s composure remained intact, and soon Lamine Yamal’s artistry came to the fore. Recovering the ball with poise, the 16-year-old prodigy clipped a sumptuous cross for Fabián Ruiz, whose well-placed header gave Spain the lead. Yamal, a constant thorn in Georgia’s side, saw two efforts flash narrowly wide of the posts, signalling that Spain’s intent was far from satisfied.  

With Georgia visibly tiring, their attacks grew fewer and more desperate. Khvicha Kvaratskhelia—the lone beacon of Georgian hope—was shut down on the edge of Spain’s box, and before Georgia could regroup, Nico Williams was off like a bullet. With dazzling footwork and audacity, Williams sliced through the Georgia defence and deftly chipped Mamardashvili to make it 3-1, effectively sealing the result. Any lingering doubts were put to rest when Dani Olmo rounded off the scoring with Spain’s fourth.  

Now, Spain’s gaze shifts to their next challenge: a quarterfinal clash with Germany. The prospect is tantalizing, a battle between two heavyweights of European football. This Spanish side, brimming with youthful exuberance and guided by Rodri’s steady hand, is playing with a level of fluidity that evokes the memories of their golden era.  

Germany, though formidable, will need to be at their absolute peak to withstand the storm that is this Spanish squad. Every move, every pass, and every counter must be executed to perfection if they are to halt a team that blends artistry with ruthless efficiency.  

Spain’s performance against Georgia was not just a statement—it was a symphony, played at full volume, warning all who stand in their way: The path to glory demands brilliance, and this Spain is prepared to deliver it.

Note: Excerpts from the The Guardian

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Faisal Caesar 

The Ferrari that stalled: England’s narrow escape against Slovakia

The current England squad is like a Ferrari—glimmering with talent but sputtering in the crucial moments. Throughout the group stage, Gareth Southgate’s men looked devoid of rhythm, resembling a powerful machine that refused to roar into life. Despite their struggles, they scraped their way into the knockout rounds, where in Gelsenkirchen, against a disciplined Slovakia, the engine continued to cough and sputter. But sometimes, football turns on moments of daring. And on this night, Southgate decided to gamble big—a gamble that flirted with disaster before blossoming into triumph. 

This was reminiscent of a moment etched deep in England’s football folklore. In the blistering heat of Naples during the 1990 World Cup, Sir Bobby Robson made a courageous substitution in the quarterfinal against Cameroon. With England trailing 2-1, he withdrew the battle-hardened defender Terry Butcher and threw in Trevor Steven, adding verve to England’s midfield. The switch from a 5-3-2 to a 4-4-2 proved decisive. England clawed their way back, eventually winning 3-2. 

But Southgate’s roll of the dice in Gelsenkirchen was even riskier. With England running out of time and ideas, he pulled off the mercurial Phil Foden—a player capable of producing magic at any moment—and sent on Ivan Toney, a striker who not long ago was on the verge of representing Jamaica. It was an audacious move that raised eyebrows across the stadium. Yet, somehow, Toney slipped into his role like the driver who finally understood how to unlock the Ferrari’s hidden power. 

England had been lethargic for much of the game. Schranz’s goal for Slovakia, coming midway through the first half, sent the Three Lions into a spiral of frustration. The midfield looked disjointed, unable to connect with the front line. Kane and company were isolated, their shots few and feeble. The defence, normally reliable, appeared skittish. As the clock ticked towards 90 minutes, the atmosphere grew heavy with a sense of impending failure. 

Then, the electronic board flashed six minutes of added time—six minutes for salvation. Kyle Walker launched a long throw-in, flicked on delicately by Marc Guehi. The ball looped tantalizingly in the air, and there was Jude Bellingham, soaring like Ronaldo in his prime. Time seemed to freeze as Bellingham’s acrobatic overhead kick found the back of the net—a touch of Madrid in the heart of Gelsenkirchen. England were alive, by the skin of their teeth. 

Extra-time began with renewed urgency. Eberechi Eze, who had injected creativity after his introduction, rifled a shot across the box. It found Toney at the far post, who rose with perfect timing to nod the ball back across goal. And waiting, as ever, was Harry Kane, England’s talisman, to drive the header home. From despair to delirium, the turnaround was complete. 

Yet beneath the euphoria lies an uncomfortable truth. England’s performance for much of the match was pedestrian at best. Their midfield lacked bite, their attack was toothless, and their defence wobbled against a resolute Slovakian side. There was no denying that this victory had been snatched from the jaws of defeat, a narrow escape that left Slovakia tasting the bitterness of missed opportunity. 

Southgate’s Ferrari roared to life in the end, but it remains a temperamental beast. The road ahead will demand more than moments of inspiration and bold substitutions. If England is to go further in this tournament, the engine must fire from the outset—not sputter to life in the dying moments.

Note: Excerpts from the The Guardian

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar