Rivalries in football often exist for singular reasons. It’s not that they’re simplistic, but rather, we understand why they are there. Like Liverpool’s rivalry with Everton or the Superclásico between Boca Juniors and River Plate, local derbies are disputed and contested based on a turf war that has placed them close together but in reality, ever so apart. They are neighbors who detest each other and nothing will ever change that.
It’s different on the international stage, where impactful cultural and political moments in history create rivalries so fierce that it lives carries through generations. Take the Clásico del Pacífico between Chile and Peru, which stemmed from a war in the 1800s, as an example. As my father taught me at a very early age, Peruvians say the word “Chalaca” instead of “Chilena” to describe a bicycle kick, as Perú refuses to believe that a Spanish-born Chilean invented the acrobatic move, and credit it to Afro-Peruvians from a time that was never recorded.
But I digress. My point is that rivalries in the beautiful game usually have a connecting tissue that lives on in the mindset of every supporter, where history and geography paint a picture of a fierce battle on the pitch.
Nonetheless, there is one rivalry that is so deep it stands above others. It’s both delicate and purposeful, as it derives from war, social and cultural animosity from two continents and ways of life, but at the same time — but that also has given us some of the most memorable, dramatic moments in World Cup football.
It is a rivalry made of thorns, rooted in years of rancor where stars also look to rise out of ferocious moments of action.
This is Argentina and England. A match like no other.
Lionel Messi vs. Harry Kane meet on the international stage for the first time. (Getty Images)
It was the last and only time England won the World Cup. The hosts came out victorious against Argentina in the quarterfinal, but it was a match of complete physicality where Argentina’s captain Antonio Rattín (sadly passed away this month at the age of 89) was sent off in the first half for two offenses in the space of three minutes. This match was so fierce that England manager Alf Ramsey decided to call the opponents “animals” and did not want his players to swap shirts at the end of the match.
It was also a fixture that essentially introduced the yellow and red cards, knowing too well something had to be done to tone down the heat.
A rivalry rooted in animosity when the 1966 match turned sour. (Photo by S&G/PA Images via Getty Images)
And so here we are. 24 years later. The rivalry returns at the grandest of stages and despite the fact that many young people don’t even have a memory of this conflict, it is fair to say they will know by Wednesday.
Argentina fans — and the team — have resuscitated their call to arms in a song as La Cuarta Estrella (“The Fourth Star”) has become synonymous with this team. The song states:
Por Malvinas, por El Diego (“For the Falkland Islands, for Diego”),
Por la última de Leo (“For Leo’s last one”),
Argentina quiero verte bicampeón (“Argentina, I want to see you back-to-back champion”).
There might be an argument to be made about the fact that this rivalry means more for Argentina than England. For the losses and the pain, the makeup thread of the country and what history has done — or rather undone — to them. And there’s the team itself, who carries emotion on its sleeve and kills it itself for victory.
But I think this England side is also equally charged. Full of fire and venom. It is a team that has already faced incredible hostility and extreme conditions. From defeating Mexico at the Azteca to enduring hot and humid conditions in Miami against Erling Haaland’s Norway. So they understand the challenge. They know the assignment and the stakes of the moment. Most importantly, they are aware of Argentina that despite showing a few vulnerabilities during this World Cup, is still the defending champion for a reason.
Lionel Scaloni is attempting to quiet down the fixture and historical connotations of the rivalry, but he knows too well that this won’t happen.
Then there’s Messi himself, who is ready to face England at international level for the first time ever. The greatest player the game has ever seen, carrying his country on his shoulders, with Diego Maradona, Rattín and other gone heroes watching from above. As he keeps delivering in this last dance, now comes the biggest, most emotionally charged battle of all: a match against England.
It does not escape me to remember that he is also facing his Inter Miami boss as David Beckham will be watching from the stands.
Prior to the match, I am sure they will wish each other well and remember the similarities both nations share. It’s the same commonalities mutually loved by Argentina and England. From Oasis to the Beatles, the warmth of loyalty in football itself and the appreciation for beauty and battle in the game. The shared respect is as potent as the historical enmities that have brought us here in the first place.
But know this. On Wednesday, in Atlanta, when both stare at each other on the pitch, and prepare to fight for every ball, every tackle and every effort towards victory, Argentina and England will remind us why football is so much more valuable than highlights on social media, or glamorous shots of celebrities attending a fixture at the luxury of a suite.
England against Argentina is about love and hate, fallen heroes and newly discovered saviors. It is about the present but also the past, both eternally connected to the memories of pain and sacrifice. This is a fixture where you appreciate what you have, thanks to the guardians who brought you to this moment. But this is also a match of fierce competition, with the hope that you carry the identity of your nation at the tip of your heart, running through your veins and never forgetting that this rivalry can only exist because you have each other.
