DALLAS — France arrived here as the team nobody wanted to play. They left the field Saturday night having beaten nobody but themselves.
Rayan Cherki didn’t bother looking for excuses. The 22-year-old Manchester City forward stood in the mixed zone after a 2-0 semifinal loss to Spain and said what a lot of people inside the French camp were probably thinking but wouldn’t say out loud.
“We are immensely disappointed because we lost against ourselves,” Cherki said. “We didn’t lose against the referee or Spain.”
Didier Deschamps had a different take. The French manager spent a decent chunk of his postgame press conference questioning the officiating, pointing at a few borderline calls that went against Les Bleus. It felt like a deflection, honestly. Because France played like a team that believed its own hype.
They came into this World Cup as the betting favorite. The attacking displays through the group stage and quarterfinals were as good as anyone’s. But in the heat of a Texas night at AT&T Stadium, that free-flowing stuff disappeared. Spain didn’t just beat them. Spain made them look ordinary.
No flow, no answer
France’s attack stalled out in the first half and never really recovered. The passing sequences that carved up opponents earlier in the tournament turned into sideways possession. The runs behind the Spanish back line got cut off before they started. By the time La Roja went up 2-0 early in the second half, the game felt effectively over.
Spain didn’t do anything fancy. They just executed. And France, for all its talent, had no counterpunch.
Cherki wasn’t wrong about the self-inflicted part. France had one of those nights where the passes were a half-step late and the decisions were a beat slow. Whether that was Spain’s pressure causing it or France’s own nerves is sort of a chicken-or-egg thing. The result is the same either way.
What comes next
The consolation prize is a third-place match on Saturday against either Argentina or England. Nobody in that French locker room wanted this game. Third-place playoffs are basically the sports version of a participation trophy — a game nobody remembers a week later unless someone gets hurt.
Cherki acknowledged the fear factor they’d built through the tournament. “You all know that we scared everyone,” he said. “The only team capable of knocking us out was ourselves.”
He’s probably right. But that kind of self-awareness is cold comfort when you’re flying home with bronze instead of gold.
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