THE MOROCCO FAIRYTALE: LUCK OR STRATEGY?

In a World Cup that has so far not delivered any major surprises, as almost all the big national teams expected have reached the quarter-finals, one of these teams seems to be the “black sheep.”

The Moroccan national team, in fact, despite unfavourable predictions from the group stage onwards, has managed to capture headlines with great astonishment from all.

In World Cup history, Morocco has participated six times.

In a group with Croatia, Belgium, and Canada, Morocco was expected to finish third, perhaps at best competing briefly with Croatia for the second position, but with Croatia ultimately prevailing. Reality overturned these predictions: Morocco first, Croatia second, Belgium out in the group stage.

Furthermore, in the round of 16, the African team faced Spain, ironically the founder of the Spanish Protectorate of Morocco—the portion of Morocco administered by Spain under a protectorate regime from 1912 to 1956, the year of the revolution that led to Morocco’s independence, with Tetuan as the capital. During those years, specifically in 1926, the Spanish Civil War began from Morocco: the Alzamiento of General Francisco Franco on July 17, 1936, took place right in Tetuan. The protectorate ended, also thanks to the intervention of the French protectorate, which was in favour of independence.

Many players on that national team have dual nationality: Bounou, Dari, Sabiri, Boufal, Harit, El-Nesyri, and Hakimi.

This match must have meant something extra to them. And in fact, three of them were crucial to the victory in the penalty shootout against Spain, against the colonial past, for themselves and for their nation. Bounou, a vigilant game over the 120 minutes, faced few risks, also thanks to Spanish mistakes in front of goal, and excelled in the penalty shootout, with two saves, a well-timed dive when Sarabia hit the post, and shutting down any attempt at entry.

Boufal, a player with impressive technique, who, if more consistent, would have had a top-player career, shone at the World Cup: 1-on-1, systematically beating Laporte, then delivering refined crosses from the wing, creating havoc in the opposing defence.

And finally, Hakimi, the top player: perfect defensively, and offensively beyond words. Then came the responsibility of the penalty, a defining moment for the game and Moroccan football history, which he confidently converted with a panenka. Man of the match.

But Morocco’s first-ever arrival in the World Cup quarter-finals is not luck. A team that, although never having exceeded 40% possession in their games so far, has proven dangerous with their two full-backs, counter-attacking with vertical passes, showing technique, and, above all, being solidly covered in all areas of the pitch. In last year’s Africa Cup of Nations, where they were eliminated in the round of 16 by Egypt, Morocco played a patient game, with high possession, numerous tight exchanges, but it seemed a sterile style of play—much like Spain’s at this World Cup.

The victory was the result of careful study by coach Hoalid Regragui of his best players’ strengths, opponents’ weaknesses, and the best strategy, even to the point of challenging himself by playing a style of football he had never favoured before.

But there’s more: a national team that had never been this strong is the result of an organised youth development effort, with many young players sent abroad to learn tactics later, but first being the same young players you see on the streets in any Moroccan city—something sorely lacking in the Italian system, which is too focused on tactics and perhaps, in the early years, should let young talents express themselves freely. Finally, this match also highlights a decline for Spain, a game no longer surprising, almost predictable, lacking finishers, with a desperate focus on possession without enough verticality, but the most critical aspect of the result may be the lack of personality: like in the European Championship, they exited on penalties, without scoring even one. The last of these, missed by Busquets—perhaps the least charismatic captain in Spain’s history—extinguished their hopes. And who knows if Sergio Ramos, the former captain deliberately left out, could have changed the fate of the Spanish national team.

By Antonio Spampinato