Another chance to witness Maghreb glory

I must say that I did never much hold to the World Cup's third-place decider. It has always seemed unfair to me to ask players, already reeling from the heartbreak of missing the finals, to suit up once again; and that too for the eighth time in a month no less, for a match that no one really seems to care much about. 

Sometimes it almost feels like a slap in the face. Take Germany for example. They have played in the fixture on five soul-crushing occasions. I bet not many members of those German teams have their medals hanging from their living rooms walls, or wherever they hang those things. For England, it has historically been an occasion to demonstrate their talent following being frustrated on the big stage. 

No, I am not a big fan of this particular event. Except, maybe, this time around. 

Because, this time, we get to witness the Atlas Lions in all their Maghreb glory one more time. Exactly how much the injury depleted squad will be up for one more run around, with the tireless Croatians no less, is questionable. The opportunity to listen to the indefatigable Moroccan faithful, however, will be worth the price of admission alone. And not to mention the one last chance to see adorable mothers dancing with their lovely sons. 

Here's a piece of trivia. Did you know that the only time that the third-fourth place match was not held was during the very first World Cup, in 1930? That edition was special for all sorts of reasons: the referees wore suits, the Bolivians played in berets, and the chief and only selector for the Romanian team was their king. 

That edition was, of course, hosted and won by the Uruguayans. The European teams went together by steamship along the way, picking up the Selecao, including Jules Rimet with the trophy in a suitcase. The only African representatives, Egypt, were supposed to join the Europeans and Brazilians, but they were late and literally missed the boat. An error that Arsene Wenger is still trying to correct, and avoid, by fielding forty-eight teams in 2026. 

Things in 1930 could not have been more different than 2022, except that one semi-final between Argentina and USA descended into a massive brawl after one American player got his leg broken, one had his teeth knocked out, and one went to the hospital with stomach wounds. The US manager himself ran out to join the melee, but somehow broke a bottle of chloroform and knocked himself out. 

Hmm, a brouhaha during a feisty knockout game featuring the Argentinians. I guess, the more things change the more they stay the same. 

(I thank my friend Asif Sattar for a valuable lesson in World Cup history)