Of all the semi-finals in all the World Cups in all of history, they walk into this one. In the entirety of their 122-year history, France had never met Morocco in a competitive fixture. They couldn’t for the first 43 of those years, of course, because there was no such thing as the Royal Moroccan Football Federation, which was only established at the end of the French Protectorate in 1955. Pre-independence meetings were all friendlies, as have been all the others since.
Much has been made in this part of the world of how fate has paired Morocco with several former colonisers on their journey through this tournament, and how that may have pushed them further. There is perhaps a truth in that. Yet regardless of the identity of their opponents, it feels impossible for this squad that hails variously from Montreal to Madrid, Bourg-de-Peage to Paris, Dronten to Huizen, as well as Marrakesh, Fez and Casablanca, to play with anything other than intensity, energy and a singular drive of ambition.
