A Victory Has No Enemies

Some coaches call up players. Others rally a nation. The difference isn't in tactics; it's in language. It's in the words they choose when the game ends and the microphone approaches.

Because a national team doesn't just wear jerseys. It embodies memories, accents, disagreements, and affections. It carries an entire country on its shoulders. And a country never fits entirely within a locker room.

Carlo Ancelotti understood this in Brazil. When he decided to call Neymar back, he wasn't just calling a footballer.

He was calling a symbol. He knew Neymar's legs no longer solved everything, but he also knew some things aren't measured in kilometers covered. They're measured in the sparkle in the eyes of those who believe again. A World Cup is also played on that invisible territory where hope is as valuable as a dribble.

Scaloni grasped the same lesson long ago. He never used Messi to divide Argentinians. He did the exact opposite. He turned him into a rallying point. He never fueled wars with those who criticized the national team. He never needed to invent enemies to strengthen the group.

He understood that a team's identity grows when it stops looking for scapegoats and starts offering reasons to believe. That's a virtue of great leaders. They don't waste energy dividing; they manage it to unite.

Portugal seems to have chosen a different path. After the victory over modest Uzbekistan, several players and the coach himself insisted that the response had been given to the critics.

There was too much talk about Portuguese who believe and Portuguese who criticize. As if there were two national teams. As if the country were condemned to choose a side.

It's a trap. The criticism of the draw with DR Congo didn't stem from malice or a lack of patriotism. It came from a poor performance against an accessible opponent. It's part of the demands that accompany great national teams. Those who wear that jersey expect applause when they play well and should accept questions when they play poorly. It's the invisible contract between a national team and its people.

Winning remains the most powerful way to reconcile a country. And if it's playing well, even better. But victory doesn't oblige anyone to speak of revenge. Much less after an expected triumph against modest Uzbekistan. Victory can close one discussion. It doesn't need to open another.

Great national team coaches know that a nation isn't emotionally governed against someone. It's governed for everyone. That's why Ancelotti is smart enough to present Neymar as an emotional heritage of Brazil. That's why Scaloni speaks of Messi as one speaks of an old friend who belongs to all Argentinians.

They don't just seek to convince those who believe. They also seek to win back those who doubt. Because doubt isn't a betrayal. It's just an imperfect way of loving.

A national team doesn't exist to defeat journalists, commentators, or disillusioned fans. It exists to represent an entire people. Including those who have suffered too much to applaud immediately.

In football, as in life, there are victories that earn points and victories that win people over. Here, 2004 is worth remembering.

Portugal started losing but ultimately walked united. Scolari never asked the country to choose a side.

He only asked them to choose the flag. And perhaps that's the first victory any national team should seek.