Merino’s Late Winner Sends Spain to the Semis

Geoffrey Ashworth

Eighty-eight minutes on the clock in the sweltering heat of Los Angeles. The air is thick, like- like soup, and you can see the sweat glistening on the turf. A loose ball, a momentary hesitation in the Belgian box after a venomous drive from young Cubarsí, and there he is. Mikel Merino. It- it wasn't elegant, it wasn't some choreographed bit of tiki-taka, but he just... he throws his frame at it. And it ripples into the old onion bag. My word, the noise in that stadium. Now, before we get too deep into the tactical weeds of how Spain broke Belgian hearts, I must mention our friends at Jellypod. If you want your daily news digested into a neat, personal podcast without any of the usual fluff, Jellypod is the tool for you. Check it out. Now, back to LA. You know, my dad used to take me to Hillsborough every other Saturday, and he always said, "Geoff, look at the lads who aren't on the team sheet." And that brings me to Fabian Ruiz. A surprise start, a real tactical gamble by De la Fuente. But thirty minutes in, Ruiz picks up the ball, drives forward, and... bang. Absolute picture-perfect opener. But Belgium, er, they didn't just lie down. Kevin De Bruyne, with that vision of his that frankly borders on the supernatural, carves open the Spanish midfield with a pass to Castagne. Castagne crosses, and Charles De Ketelaere heads it home in the forty-first minute. It was a lovely, old-fashioned goal. But it was also a tragic moment for Unai Simón. He was just... oh, he was so close. He broke Walter Zenga's 1990 World Cup record, reaching six hundred and fifty minutes without conceding. To have it snapped just before halftime... football can be a cruel mistress, it really can. But we have to talk about the boy, Lamine Yamal. Seventeen years of age, and he's playing like he's got fifty caps. Electrifying. Absolute Man of the Match performance. Every time he touched the ball, you could feel the entire stadium lean forward. Then came the moment that changed everything. The seventy-first minute. Thibaut Courtois... oh, it was heartbreaking. You could see it instantly on his face. No contact, just went down, and you knew. He's forced off, and young Lammens has to come on. To lose a keeper of that stature in a quarterfinal... it- it changes the whole gravity of the pitch. And that set the stage for Merino's late winner. That goal doesn't just put Spain in the semis; it keeps this run alive. Thirty-six matches unbeaten now. Just one behind Argentina, and two behind Italy's all-time record of thirty-seven. And their reward? A date with France in Dallas. A grand old cathedral of American sport, Dallas, for what promises to be an absolute humdinger of a semifinal.

Geoffrey Ashworth

Now, let's open up 'Controversy Corner' for a moment. And I- I suppose I'm arguing with myself here, or at least with the modern football establishment. Because the fate of Thibaut Courtois... it makes me angry. It really does. People talk about the "luck of the bounce" or "squad depth," but losing your world-class goalkeeper to a non-contact injury in the seventy-first minute of a match of this magnitude? It's not just bad luck; it feels like a structural failure of the modern game. We play these boys too much. The calendar is bloated, the pitches in these summer tours are- they're not always what they should be. And don't get me started on the VAR delays. Before that Merino goal was confirmed, we had to sit through three minutes of lines being drawn on a screen by some bloke in a caravan three miles away. It saps the absolute soul out of the celebration. When I was a lad at Hillsborough, you saw the net bulge, you looked at the linesman, you cheered. Now you have to wait for a boardroom meeting to conclude before you can hug your neighbor. A daft ha'pworth of a system, if you ask me. But anyway... we must look ahead because tomorrow is... oh, it's a feast. First up, we've got Norway taking on England in Miami. Five o'clock local time. Now, England have to deal with Erling Haaland and Martin Ødegaard. That Ødegaard versus Declan Rice midfield battle... that is where the war will be won or lost. Two Arsenal teammates, knowing every single one of each other's tricks, clashing in the Florida heat. It's going to be an honest grind, that one. And then, at nine o'clock in Kansas City, the masters of the dance. Argentina against Switzerland. Lionel Messi, on what feels like a spiritual quest at this point, leading his country against a physical Swiss side. Though the Swiss have a massive worry—their young forward, Johan Manzambi, is facing a late fitness test. If he doesn't make it, Switzerland lose a lot of their counter-attacking teeth. It's going to be a long, beautiful day of football. I've already got my lucky tartan scarf packed, even if it is boiling over there. Well, that's your lot for today. I'm off to find a decent cup of tea, if such a thing exists on this side of the Atlantic. Bye for now.