It’s safe to say that the best team has won the World Cup. For all the fact that, as the analysts might say, it’s a small sample size, this is pretty much always the case. It’s the ultimate proof of mentality, momentum, spirit, and the ability to deal with the biggest occasions of all as being vitally important in turning talent into trophies. Just as limited teams always get found out in the course of a 38-game season, so do international sides in the handful of games that comprise the greatest show on earth.
Efficiency wins out over fantasy at the World Cup
Spain and Brazil entered the World Cup as favorites. A number of unexpected darlings captured everyone’s imaginations. And in the end, the Germans won.


In 2014, we saw this happen in the most brutal manner possible. There were more fun underdogs than ever, from Costa Rica to Chile to Colombia to Belgium, and all were disposed of fairly early. In the end, we only ended up with one great team, and a one-horse race is never fun to watch. The final was a good game, classic World Cup fare, but it was a very good side packed with talent against a hugely limited one-trick pony in Sabella's Argentina. It would have left an odd taste in the mouth had it gone the other way.
The lack of great teams suggests that, while this World Cup was one of the most fun for many years, it was still lacking something. Without two great teams, there is no real clash of styles, or identity. There are no titanic struggles with everything to play for, none of the stuff that really defines World Cups. There were plenty of games that shocked, surprised, and where there were long periods of tense, brilliant football which could have gone either way. But it’s hard, looking back, to see how else the ultimate result could have gone.
And yet, the most galling thing of all is perhaps that we should have had great teams. Spain are packed with world-class talent but were dumped out of the group stage with a whimper. Brazil still undoubtedly had the talent to win it and should never have endured what they did. Argentina had the best attacking talent in the tournament and they didn't look dangerous in any of their games. Italy and France also had decent sides which failed to click at the right time. The question is whether a mere coincidence of poor form or mentality struck down all of these potential pretenders to Germany's crown, or whether a stylistic shift in football has happened, similar to when Spain first embarked on their era of dominance.
As well as the big teams, for the first time in a long while, we had newer, younger teams that looked like they might be capable of winning the thing in Chile and Colombia, but both met their demise at the hands of a Brazil team that went on to suffer the most humiliating defeat in the history of the sport. Both were popular sides because of their bold attacking approach, but even in a tournament with an unusually high number of these teams, their universal failure suggests that it is not presently the way to win.
Chile and Colombia are great sides, but their apparent proximity to glory also seemed as much to rest on the weakness of the rest of the field. Both of the encounters between the two and Brazil were end-to-end affairs of an openness usually reserved for the last 10 minutes of a Cup game when one team is a goal down. It was brilliant to watch, but it was also utter lunacy, and attempting to replicate such a style played a large part in the remarkable self-destruction Brazil ultimately suffered.
Scolari and the Brazil side had come under criticism for no longer playing attractive football, for relying on counter-attacks and set-pieces. It’s common to hear people bemoaning their team’s negativity shrug off any talk of pragmatism by saying “if we lose, I’d rather we lost having a go.” It would have to be an extremely romantic soul who still holds that opinion after the Brazil-Germany semifinal. It was a long way from going out in a blaze of glory. It was naive, idiotic, and worst of all, it was sad.
World Cup
Brazil had ridden their luck against Chile, but against Colombia, after that opening 30-minute spell, the game settled down and the hosts began to coolly ease out their opponents. It looked a lot more like a controlled, calm victory in the end, and could have been a huge turning point for the team. Instead, it proved the opposite. When trying to attack against a team that had real, clinical end product and the discipline to face them down, it was a massacre.
In terms of how this will affect the future of football, it's tempting to see it as the final nail in the coffin of the possession and pressing-based style that had dominated previously. Barcelona's troubles had strongly hinted at it for some time, but it was now proven, with a nod to anti-Guardiolaism in Germany only emerging as a great team once they had abandoned the notion of deploying Philipp Lahm in midfield and returned to the old path. But one type of discipline has been replaced by another. The old passing game has been replaced with something different, but still dependent on rigidity and efficiency.
It's hard to see Germany embarking on a similar period of dominance to the degree Spain did unless they evolve significantly. It's probable that we're in a middle chapter of football history, and some other tribe will soon come swarming over the hills to change everything once again. Plenty of teams are in transition and look capable of being much stronger when the time comes to head to Russia. But for now, physicality, discipline and composure are the way to win on the biggest stage of all. And nobody is going to beat Germany at that game.











