Spain have won the 2026 World Cup: Argentina were beaten by

At the very least, this time round, no one can launch into a description of the grand celestial plan orchestrated by Diego Armando Maradona – now deified in the manner of Imperial Rome – and brought to fruition by his supposed son, Lionel Messi, who one day – let it be as late as possible – will sit at his father’s right hand. Amidst the excess of rhetoric that accompanied Argentina’s World Cup summer, cheap mysticism was often overused. It petered out at the end of 120 minutes of a final that was hardly thrilling for over a hundred minutes, with plenty of yawn-inducing moments and few flashes of brilliance capable of rousing the neutral crowd from their torpor. Spain won the 2026 World Cup. The match ended 1–0 thanks to a goal by Ferrán Torres that came well after the end of the ninety minutes of normal time: in the 106th minute, the first of the second half of extra time. A goal that came without the usual shouting and somewhat slapdash dramatisation. All in all, a good thing.

If nothing else, this World Cup deserves credit for a subtle and bitter irony: a goal scored beyond the natural limit of time that robs one of the greatest champions in football history – certainly in recent times – of the satisfaction of a second World Cup triumph, a champion who had stubbornly refused to leave the stage well beyond his natural time. Lionel Messi did little or nothing other than act as a leader and talisman, the very reason for his team-mates’ existence; the mere fact of knowing he was on the pitch gave them an extra incentive to play beyond their very best.

And yet the Spain v Argentina match had got off to such a good start. After four minutes, Lamine Yamal did what he does best – play good football: a one-two with Dani Olmo and a fine shot. For quite some time, the 2026 World Cup final was just that: a fair few fouls, a bit of provocation, a hint of a brawl, and far too many pointless passes reminiscent of the tiki-taka of yesteryear. Argentina clung to the hope of a miracle – and to the skill, rather swashbuckling, of Emiliano Martínez – whilst Spain held fast to the conviction that sooner or later they would pull it off. One conviction is often mere conceit; two is conceit squared. The miracle never materialised. 

It could have been worse – it could have rained. Except that after such a heatwave, a good downpour takes on a whole new charm.

Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps it was too many matches, or perhaps it’s just that in America the finals are a bit of a let-down – two out of two, since USA ’94 that’s a hundred per cent – the fact remains that there was little to remember apart from a sense of the Spanish national team’s clear superiority, and one goal plus another disallowed for Spain because one player’s foot accidentally stepped on another’s.