Hoping for the Best, Preparing for the Worst

The ongoing debate surrounding the Portuguese National Team and Cristiano Ronaldo reveals more about society today than it does about football itself.

We've abandoned Aristotle's teachings, which championed moderation and balance as the essence of virtue, in favor of a constant confrontational logic where only extremes capture attention.

This marks the abandonment of a doctrine over twenty-four centuries old. Instead of the Aristotelian middle ground, we now live in a perpetual duel between extreme and irreconcilable positions.

The 2026 World Cup is just another demonstration that this reality is no longer confined to politics; it has also infected football.

It's not just the World Cup; it's the world in 2026. This confrontation has been evident since Portugal's very first match.

On one side, a group of fanatics has been calling for Cristiano Ronaldo's retirement since 2018, the year he won his last Champions League with Real Madrid and scored those unforgettable three goals against Spain in the Russia World Cup.

On the other, an equally fanatical group believes Ronaldo should play for the national team as long as he desires, arguing that his contributions to Portugal grant him that right.

In the midst of this conflict, Roberto Martínez is the biggest beneficiary. The national coach avoids accountability for Portugal's disappointing World Cup performance, repeating many of the errors he previously made with the Belgian national team.

While the debate is consumed by Cristiano Ronaldo, the team's organization and collective performance go unexamined.

Aristotle taught that virtue lies between two excesses. In Cristiano Ronaldo's case, there's also a point of balance. He's an immortal legend, but he shouldn't be playing every minute of every game.

This is likely the stance of the silent majority of Portuguese, who prefer not to engage in a debate dominated by extremes and policed by digital mobs.

More important than Portugal winning this World Cup would be regaining the ability to discuss the national team with respect for opposing viewpoints.

A society that can no longer discuss football will struggle to dialogue about truly important matters.

We should remember, as Aristotle taught over two millennia ago, that virtue still lies in the middle: neither too much nor too little, as the Portuguese saying goes.

However, this logic doesn't just explain how we discuss football. It also explains how football itself is viewed today.

We confuse prominence with importance. Attention has shifted from the essential and is now monopolized by those with the most visibility.

Football has kept pace with globalization. Today, players are followed more than national teams. The big names are Cristiano Ronaldo, Messi, Mbappé, Haaland, or Neymar.

But the protagonists aren't always the most important figures.

France is an excellent example of this distinction between notoriety and importance. Mbappé is the protagonist, but France's greatest competitive advantage is Didier Deschamps. As a player, he won a World Cup and a European Championship; as a coach, he won the 2018 World Cup, was a finalist in 2022, and has completed twelve years with the national team. His stability and ability to manage egos and talent explain much of France's success.

Charles Darwin demonstrated that, in the evolution of species, it's not the strongest or the most intelligent who survive, but those who adapt best. Football is no different. Winning teams adapt their playing style to the characteristics of their players and the competitive culture they represent.

Bielsa ignored Uruguay's competitive culture and tried to impose a playing style antagonistic to their historical identity. A stubborn coach forces players to adapt to his ideas.

Portugal was the biggest disappointment of the group stage. However, most of the criticism falls on Cristiano Ronaldo, when the responsibility undoubtedly lies with the coach.

The controversial decision for Ronaldo to play every minute of all three group stage matches served as Martínez's protective shield.

In "The Lusiads," Camões immortalized the phrase, "A weak king makes a strong people weak," referring to D. Fernando I, who was incapable of making decisions and leading the kingdom in difficult times.

The draw against Colombia exemplified this incapacity. The late substitutions, when Portugal needed to win, exposed Martínez's intention – to hold onto a useless result.

Portugal remains in the competition, but their chances of winning are low (and shouldn't be). How can so much talent be wasted, and experienced, competitive players like João Palhinha, Danilo Pereira, or Ricardo Horta be left out of the squad?

Now, only the hope offered by knockout competitions remains, where anything can happen.

The match against Croatia will define the minimum standard by which this World Cup will be remembered. A defeat in this game will mean much more than just disappointment.

The trap we must avoid is allowing attention to be diverted from those who manage the team and make all the fundamental decisions.

The greatest responsibility always belongs to those who select, call up, define the playing model, prepare, and lead the team.

Regardless of how this World Cup ends, Cristiano Ronaldo will continue to be the greatest footballer in Portugal's history and the one who has projected Portugal most onto the world stage.

The World Cup will end. Cristiano Ronaldo will also, one day, leave the national team. What will remain is how we choose to discuss football and our ability – or inability – to distinguish between protagonists and those truly responsible.

Criticism is part of football. Ingratitude is not.

And Aristotle continues to remind us, twenty-four centuries later, that virtue is not found in extremes.