World Cup games mean more. England have only ever played 80 games in the finals, which is to say, not much more than two Premier League seasons in the 76 years since they first entered. Those games draw huge audiences: more than 17 million in the UK watched Saturday’s win over Norway, even though it was after midnight by the time it finished. In most countries, World Cup matches are more discussed, more analysed, than any other in sport, perhaps any other cultural phenomenon. They are rare moments that bring vast numbers of people together, hoping, agonising, celebrating, commiserating. They become part of the culture.
Moments from games become touchstones. Allusions can be made to games from six decades ago in the reasonable expectation of being understood. That has a strange, distorting effect. Far too much is read into individual games, in a way it just wouldn’t be in a league game. Senne Lammens’s error that cost Belgium the quarter-final against Spain was watched by far more people than watch the average Manchester United game. There is not another match in three or four days that would mean Lammens’s mistake would be readily forgotten. It will always be part of his story, even if it subsequently becomes about redemption with a brilliant display in some future World Cup.
