Argentina disgraced themselves, and the World Cup final, with their charmless petulance

As Spain’s World Cup-winning heroes assembled on the podium, their Argentine opponents, bedraggled and beaten, turned their backs.

It marked the culmination of a tetchy, petulant and distasteful Argentine performance, which left their team a man short on the field, and starting bar-room brawls after the final whistle.

In the heat of battle, scuffles and skirmishes can happen. Their shunning of the Spanish coronation, however, felt uniquely unappealing, a show of disrespect to the winners of the highest-profile sporting event in the world.

It was, however, entirely in-keeping with a charmless Argentine showing which offered little by way of substance or style over 120 minutes.

Beforehand, many had felt that Argentina would need to disrupt a refined Spanish team which has grown in confidence and authority as the World Cup progressed.

Spain are, in many ways, the counter-culture to Argentina. They are a system team; organised, logical and surgical in their play. If Spain keep cool, then Argentina run hot; a warm-blooded, emotional, often chaotic team whose performances swing wildly within games. Never has a team appeared so beatable while so rarely being beaten.

The pre-game framing was clear, even if a little simplistic: Spain would play with its head and Argentina team with its heart. That, however, does a disservice to the steel and desire shown by Spain, who are now both European and world champions, and also to the Argentine ability to lock in under pressure and produce when the pressure turns up.

Argentina sought to drag the Spanish into their game, as they tried to do with England in their semi-final victory in Atlanta. On that occasion, Argentina sought to prod, poke and provoke; Enzo Fernandez left one on the head of Elliot Anderson early on, Leandro Paredes caught the ankle of Jude Bellingham.

The team’s recital of the pre-match national anthem almost acted like a referendum on each player’s patriotism. Neck veins bulging and voices belting, it was an intimidating sight, akin to New Zealand rugby union team’s pre-match Haka. The irony, however, is that Argentina finally outmanoeuvred England not when leaving a sly elbow here or a nasty nibble there, but when they concentrated on the football, comprehensively outplaying England in the final 25 minutes.

If Argentina sought to destabilise the English, the beginning to the final against Spain was more tentative. If anything, Argentina were peculiarly passive, both in how they sought to attack but also in the dark arts. Their descent into anarchy in this final was a slow-burn, rather than instant ignition.

Spain’s shrewdness came in their refusal to engage with off-the-ball trivialities. They settled the game down, placing the Argentines on their carousel and rotating the ball at their leisure. It was the equivalent of a sedative to numb the Argentine provocations. Spain won this game not by rising to the bait, but by simply playing better football.

The Spain center back Aymeric Laporte made clear prior to the game that his team knew what was in store. “In the last few matches we’ve seen things that really surprised us, incidents that were ignored,” he told reporters. “Especially with Argentina, who are a team that leave a lot of little messages with their challenges.”

Laporte’s diagnosis was correct. Referees have exhibited leniency in this tournament towards Argentina players and it happened once again here. Referee Slavko Vincic was perhaps hoping that he could keep 22 players on the field by applying a soft touch. Yet the impact was simply to let Argentine players off the hook.

Alexis MacAllister’s early foul on Dani Olmo was badly timed and nasty. Then Nicolas Tagliafico, a poor defender up against a great attacker in Lamine Yamal, took to attempting to foul the Spain winger in four different ways at once, but most unpleasantly grazed his studs down Yamal’s calf. Both walked away without punishment. Leandro Paredes, when he arrived in the second half, embraced the role of a sneaky villain, shoving Dani Olmo to the floor, barracking the official and appearing both incredulous and offended on any occasion the whistle was blown against his team.

For much of the second half, Argentina played with plenty of perspiration, but little by way of inspiration. Even Lionel Messi, so often the divine saviour, was a peripheral passenger. As Argentina tired, their self-control slipped. Enzo Fernandez’s first yellow card was for dissent, although he was fortunate to not be immediately dismissed, as he sarcastically applauded the referee’s yellow card. His eventual red card was an exercise in rash stupidity, crashing through Spain’s teenage center-back Pau Cubarsi.

Spain’s technical staff and substitutes rushed off the bench to protest. They also recognised the magnitude of the moment, handing the initiative inexorably to Spain. From there, the Argentines became even more desperate. Messi had an exchange of words with Marc Cucurella, and the Spaniard briefly appeared to cover his mouth. That is a red card offence if used to conceal insults during a confrontation, but Messi’s reaction, turning to raise his hand and request an intervention from the referee, brought to mind how a child might behave when seeking to tell tales to a teacher.

On the final whistle, some Argentine players shook Spanish hands. Messi collapsed to the floor and then stood alone. He eventually broke down in tears. But others disgraced themselves. They had exhibited some unappealing traits in victory over England, particularly Christian Romero, who goaded England players after Argentina goals, and the unused substitute Valentin Barco, who ran across the pitch in front of his opponents — a lack of sportsmanship which provoked a post-match slap across the head from Jude Bellingham.

This time, things were more heated. As Spain’s players rejoiced, the Argentine defender Nahuel Molina appeared to try and catch Rodri with his arm. Rodri confronted Molina, who squared up to the Manchester City midfielder.

Spain’s Eric Garcia then leapt to his team-mate’s defence. Paredes was quickly on the scene, grabbing Garcia briefly by the throat and shoving him to the floor. Paredes also went for Gavi. Nicolas Otamendi, the Argentine defender, was caught by DAZN footage in Spain appearing to tell Rodri that he and Laporte had been “crying all week” and should talk less.

Lionel Scaloni, the Argentine head coach, attempted to intervene. In his immediate post-match interview, he said: “We’ve been great in victory and we need to be great in defeat. We have shown today that we know how to lose, too. We lost the game and we accept that.”Others were less impressed. Former German international Toni Kroos wrote that Spain had ensured that “football won”, while his former German teammate Thomas Hitzlsperger wrote on Twitter that “Paredes, Fernandez, Otamendi, the lot” are “disgusting sportsmen… Messi is a genius on the ball, most of his teammates are thugs with no sense for the beautiful game — viva España.”

At this point, we should recognise that the unity of this Argentine team, and the profound sense of allegiance stirred by their national flag, has often been its point of difference, turbocharged by the genius of Messi.

That camaraderie among the Argentine players, who often vacation with one another, has carried this team to a World Cup in 2022 and the Copa America in 2024. It helped  reverse deficits against Egypt and England in this summer’s tournament. These Argentines turn out with an almost frantic patriotic intensity; they play for the flag, but also are bonded in an almost religious subservience to their greatest player Messi. Their fans have provided the electricity of this tournament, travelling in huge numbers, turning Kansas City, Atlanta, Miami and Dallas into oceans of blue and white. The connection with the fans is obvious.

“One of the things people used to complain about with past national teams was a style of play that didn’t connect with Argentines.” the former Argentina striker Gabriel Batistuta told Telemundo. “This one did exactly what any fan would ask for — playing with heart.”

Argentina were not here to win friends. They were here to win matches. Yet on this occasion, they tipped over the tightrope, channelling aggression to their detriment. “We couldn’t compete head to head today when it comes to football,” Scaloni acknowledged.

Ahead of the trophy celebrations, the Spanish extended an olive branch, providing a guard of honour to the Argentine players. Yet when it was time for the victors to be recognised, the Argentines turned inwards. They congregated in front of the goal, concentrating on their own fans, who physically bowed to Messi. When Rodri collected his Golden Ball for player of the tournament, the Argentine fans drowned it out with chants of Messi.

In doing so, they diminished themselves in front of the world.