The Draghi plan explained using the World Cup as an example

The World Cup final, like much of the tournament itself, was a great European spectacle, despite the festive American setting, despite the Americanisation of the half-time breaks, and despite Donald Trump’s clumsy attempt to worm his way into the final celebrations – peek-a-boo. And Spain’s victory over Argentina was as European as it could possibly be, in a World Cup dominated by European teams (European teams in the quarter-finals: six out of eight, 75 per cent, comprising France, Spain, Belgium, Norway, England and Switzerland), by European players (final starting line-up playing in Europe: 19 out of 22), and by European goalscorers (goals scored by players competing in European leagues: 245, 84.2 per cent), with the sole exceptions being the most ‘European’ of all non-European teams: the only non-European sides to reach the quarter-finals were Argentina – the South American team with the highest number of players based in Europe, twenty-one out of twenty-six – and Morocco, whose squad included eighteen out of twenty-six players born in Europe. Europe, as we have already mentioned, triumphed at Donald Trump’s World Cup. And the fact that this World Cup triumph came via Spain is, for us Europhiles – who see Europe everywhere, at Wimbledon (Sinner), in Formula One (Antonelli), in cinema ("The Odyssey" – where is it set?) – an interesting point, because no other team embodies so many traits reminiscent of Europe as Spain does.

Think about it. The World Cup was won by a team not built around the talent of a single player, but around the talent of a playing system, which got the better of a team built around a lone genius in the final. The World Cup was won by a team whose leader, Rodri, is not a superstar built on individual brilliance, but a champion accustomed to keeping the machine running, pulling the strings, connecting the dots, creating chances and, through his talent, making complex systems work. The World Cup was won by a team that found the decisive goal in extra time thanks to a player called Ferran Torres, whose story is the perfect snapshot of a facet of European identity: reaching the top, achieving great things, then falling, suffering, failing to score, slipping down the table, and then learning from one’s mistakes, re-evaluating oneself, changing roles, turning difficulties into a wealth of experience, and returning to be decisive. The World Cup was won by a team whose top scorer, Mikel Oyarzabal, closely mirrors that Europe which only intermittently recognises its own talents, its infrastructure, its assets and its supply chains, because it is too busy looking at those of others. The World Cup was won by a team whose decisive assist came from a player, Nico Williams, whose parents, María and Félix, arrived in Spain from Ghana many years ago without papers, after undertaking a 4,000-kilometre journey to Melilla, crossing the Sahara partly on foot and partly hidden in a lorry, and were subsequently granted political asylum in Spain (On the subject of integration: the World Cup, as one clever soul on Twitter astutely noted, might be remembered as one of the few instances in history where Trump did everything in his power to prevent a Black man from being deported – see Folarin Balogun).

In the end, the winning team was led by a manager, De la Fuente, who is not an outsider revolutionary who takes a system and turns it inside out, as we hope Pep Guardiola (another Spaniard) will one day do with Italy, but a man of the establishment, trained within the system, raised within the system, and nurtured through the national youth teams. Ultimately, as the New York Times wrote yesterday, Spain’s victory was a triumph of teamwork, of intelligent and controlled football based on possession, and of composure – in stark contrast to their opponents’ aggression and lack of attacking ambition. A triumph of perfection and predictability, of attention to detail that enables them to manage the talents of others and to compensate for even the less brilliant performances of their own players, such as Yamal’s in the final. Predictability that becomes a virtue, organisation that becomes talent, a functioning system that becomes lethal, a deep squad that provides an abundant supply of players to draw upon in times of difficulty. The Europe of nation states, as we know, does not always come close to reflecting the Europe of football.

But Spain’s victory at the World Cup offers Europe food for thought in understanding its strengths, no less so than Draghi’s plan. Competitiveness, efficiency, predictability, organisation, a long supply chain, an orderly system, cogs that turn, egos to manage, barriers to break down, talents to nurture. Europe’s enthusiasts sometimes go over the top, just like us, but when Europe shows itself at its best, exposing the clumsiness of anti-Europeans such as Trump, it’s acceptable to play with symbols. And despite Italy’s tragicomic absence – absent from the World Cup, as we know, but also absent from the final for the first time in history, with Serie A virtually invisible in the final match (the only player registered with an Italian club was Niko Gonzales of Juventus, who, however, spent last season at Atlético Madrid) – the European spectacle of the World Cup offers reasons to rejoice. On the state of European football, of course. But also on the special formula that enabled Spain to win the final with a secret ingredient which, however hard we try not to, we cannot help but describe as follows: disciplined football, lethal efficiency, perfect organisation and lessons in European spirit by the bucketful.