Spain, France, Argentina and England beware: Demons haunt the World Cup semi-finals

Carles Puyol of Spain in 2010; Didier Six of France in 1982 and David Beckham of England in 1998 all experienced notable World Cup moments. Composite: Guardian Picture Desk World Cup games mean more. England have only ever played 79 games in the finals, which is to say, not much more than two Premier League seasons in the 76 years since they first entered. Those games draw huge audiences: more than 17 million in the UK watched Saturday’s win over Norway, even though it was after midnight by the time it finished. In most countries, World Cup matches are more discussed, more analysed, than any other in sport, perhaps any other cultural phenomenon. They are rare moments that bring vast numbers of people together, hoping, agonising, celebrating, commiserating. They become part of the culture. Moments from games become touchstones. Allusions can be made to games from six decades ago in the reasonable expectation of being understood. That has a strange, distorting effect. Far too much is read into individual games, in a way it just wouldn’t be in a league game. Senne Lammens’s error that cost Belgium the quarter-final against Spain was watched by far more people than watch the average Manchester United game. There is not another match in three or four days that would mean Lammens’s mistake would be readily forgotten. It will always be part of his story, even if it subsequently becomes about redemption with a brilliant display in some future World Cup. Related: World Cup 2026 power rankings: who leads the pack as semi-finals loom? The scarcity of games is part of the story. Each one matters. Which is why the suggestions, now happily shelved, that the World Cup should be played every two years must be resisted. Less is definitely more. But because the history is so familiar, because it is so present, it means that every country is to some extent playing against ghosts of its own past. Psychology matters far more in World Cup football than in any other form of the game. Spain have only ever played in one World Cup semi-final before, which they won 1-0 against Germany in 2010. It was a classic performance of control, grinding their opponents down before Carles Puyol scored a 73rd-minute header. That in itself is a mark of their long history of underachievement up to Euro 2008. They’ve reached the semi-final of the Euros on six occasions, winning five of them. They won five of the six major finals they’ve been in. They’re good in the latter stages of tournaments. But the final they lost, in 1984, was to France, their opponents in Tuesday’s semi. And they also lost to France in a memorable Euro 2000 quarter-final, when Raúl missed a late penalty that would have levelled it at 2-2. But France have their demons too, especially in semi-finals. The 1982 game in Seville ranks as perhaps the most traumatic night in their footballing history. With the score at 1-1 and an hour played, the France substitute Patrick Battiston was the victim of a horrendous unpunished foul by West Germany goalkeeper Toni Schumacher. He was knocked unconscious, broke his jaw and three ribs and lost two teeth. France went 3-1 up in extra-time, but on a hot night they paid for the fact that they effectively had one sub fewer. West Germany came back, levelled, and won in the World Cup’s first penalty shootout. France then lost to West Germany again in the semi-final four years later. Three successive semi-final successes perhaps have eased anxieties – but the nature of demons is that they rise unbidden. And of course, whatever history France and Spain share is nothing compared with that of England and Argentina. From Bobby Charlton’s goal in 1962 to the sending off of Antonio Rattín in 1966, to the “Hand of God” in 1986, to David Beckham’s red card in 1998 to Michael Owen’s collapse over Mauricio Pochettino’s leg in 2002, there is plenty of history. The two sides haven’t met since Geneva in 2005, a remarkable game in which both sides seemed to forget it was only a friendly, producing a classic in which Juan Román Riquelme looked to have inspired Argentina to victory only for Owen to score two goals in the final five minutes to give England the spoils. Memories of 1998 and 2002 were clearly fresh back then. Two decades later, with Argentinians a prominent feature of the Premier League, and the Falklands conflict and “Hand of God” that much further in the past, it may be that the animosity has lost some of that sting, but the nature of the rivalry goes back much deeper than that. There is always an oedipal frisson when England and Argentina meet. Their first encounter, in 1951, was previewed in the Argentinian press almost entirely in the terms of pupils taking on the master, the quasi-colonial power who had given them the sport. Something of that dynamic – albeit now, obviously, of extremely accomplished former pupils – still lingers. And England, of course, have their traumas from semi-finals past, from Turin and the penalty shootout defeat to West Germany in 1990 and from Moscow and the collapse against Croatia in 2018. In this tournament they have put behind them part of the “Hand of God” pathology by winning at the Azteca. The next step would be to beat Argentina in a knockout game. This is an extract from Soccer Desk: World Cup edition, a newsletter from the Guardian US that will run regularly during the tournament. Subscribe for free here.