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.
All that was on display again at the Al Bayt. You could see it in Jawad El Yamiq stretching to connect with the ball on an overhead kick, and in doing so almost scoring one of the greatest goals of any semi-final. You could see it in Sofyan Amrabat’s fabulously violent challenge on Kylian Mbappé at the start of the second half, that restored the tone of a no less ferocious first. You could see that too at the final whistle, when all but a handful of Morocco’s players fell on their backs, hands clasped over their heads, lamenting the end of the most remarkable story at this World Cup.
Morocco went out but went out their way. As England prepared to face France, we had almost a full week of questions about how to stop Kylian Mbappé. Walid Regragui’s answer was ‘play all of your injured defenders’. Romain Saiss (thigh) and Noussair Mazraoui (hip) were both expected to miss out but the only word needed in those parentheses was ‘irrelevant’. They started. They were always going to. Nayef Aguerd (also thigh, also irrelevant) made it as far as the warm-up but pulled out before kick-off, replaced by Achraf Dari.
Aguerd was still, remarkably, the only player to score against Morocco at this tournament at that point, after his own goal against Canada in the final round of group games. That would last all of five minutes, Dari’s block of an Mbappé shot bouncing into Theo Hernandez’s path. Perhaps Yassine Bono thought the angle too narrow. Perhaps all this rightful praise and goalkeeper of the tournament talk made him feel a foot wider. In any case, failing to close Hernandez down quickly enough was his first mistake all month.
Yet the worst possible start did not feel like a disaster. Not inside the Al Bayt. Three days ago, Royal Air Maroc announced it was putting on 30 additional flights to Doha to add barely-needed ballast to the 40,000 Moroccan supporters already in the Qatari capital. They then revised that total to 14, then revised it once again to no additional flights at all, citing “restrictions imposed by the Qatari authorities”. Several thousands were left disappointed. Those already here decided to provide the decibel level of 30 jet engines instead.
That noise came in several different pitches and tones. The jeers that met Fifa’s insipid pre-match entertainment sounded exquisite to those of us who have sat through such banalities before every game. The chorus to the Cherifian Anthem, on the other hand, shook your rib bones. Then there were the whistles that greeted the early spells of French possession, perhaps the first in World Cup history that could plausibly pierce the eardrums of their intended targets.
What there was, even in the moments after Hernandez’s goal, was an atmosphere. Remember those? Fifa has not so much attempted to suppress them at this tournament but has not even had to try. A combination of supporter apathy due to the human rights issues, the exorbitant prices of travel, accommodation and tickets and the scheduling of this tournament has led to deathly, muted atmospheres. The Al Bayt has hosted among the worst of them. Yet here, it staged perhaps this tournament’s best.
That noise very nearly pushed Morocco on to what was unthinkable only a month ago. It was hard to keep count of the counter-attacks, the cut-backs, the moments of hesitation and indecision inside the French penalty area that may have produced the goal they needed to respond to Hernandez’s opener. If at any point in those moments that the next goal would be France’s, you would not have believed it. Randal Kolo Muani appeared from nowhere, moments after his introduction, to make France’s passage safe. Yet their 2-0 victory was not the story of this semi-final.
Some have scoffed at Morocco’s progress through this tournament. After Spain’s defeat in the last-16, Rodri claimed they “offered absolutely nothing, without disrespecting them”, while flagrantly disrespecting them. Portugal’s beaten players did not commend their opponents but instead blamed the referee for, of all things, a pro-Argentina agenda, as though Morocco would be swept away if they were to make the final against Lionel Messi and his teammates.
If either had played with the fury, energy and organisation of Regragui’s players, perhaps they would have extended their stay in Qatar into this tournament’s final week. Perhaps they would have won the hearts not only of the local population in Qatar but also the millions watching at home. Perhaps they might even have made the semi-finals, which should be considered no small achievement for even the grandest footballing nations. Instead, even in defeat, that achievement is Morocco’s, who once the pain has passed, will recognise they have made history.
