FIFA World Cup: Winners’ curse! Why the mighty keep falling

Ohne Worte! Sometimes, if the adage is altered a bit, just two words can be enough to paint a picture. Or, maybe given the context, ‘no words’ are required at all!

In a span of four years, Bild, that rambunctious, opinion-forming and hugely popular tabloid newspaper in Germany, had splashed two banner headlines across its front page with the same two words — ‘Ohne Worte’, meaning no words or speechless in German. The first one — published on July 9, 2014 — ran across a boisterous Toni Kroos being lifted aloft by Sami Khedira against the backdrop of a 7-1 scoreline as Germany moved closer to lifting the world football’s ultimate crown for the fourth time and left Brazil to carry the burden of a forever haunting ‘Mineirazo’.




Four years later — on June 28, 2018 — the tabloid served up the same headline spreading again across the frame of Kroos, but this time, the German veteran was standing on his own, hands on hip and looking downcast and defeated. The ‘0-2’ scoreline seen in the background was self-explanatory — Germany, the defending world champions, exited at the group stage itself with a stunning loss to South Korea and both goals conceded in stoppage time.

In the theatre of dreams as exalting as the World Cup, surprise often comes to express itself unapologetically. A Germany that flaunted its envied culture of planning, potency and a fiery team spirit on way to the coveted reward at the Maracana now looked speechless at Russia’s Kazan Arena, confronting a situation so destructive of reason. Manuel Neuer, who was hailed for giving a whole new meaning to the concept of a sweeper-keeper four years ago, became a subject of ridicule for the way he abandoned his area, went up to the Korean box, lost possession and ended up allowing Son Heung-min to score his team’s second goal.

Football and its ‘peripeteia’ moments

From suffering to salvation, the game constantly creates itself. This sudden and swift reversal of fortune is what Aristotle had described as ‘peripeteia’. In modern football, we call it a ‘winner’s curse’.

In the long, fabled history of the World Cup, only twice have the champions defended their crown. When Italy did it in 1938, the third World Cup was a straight four-game knockout tournament and they clinched it beating Hungary 4-2 in the final. In 1962, Brazil offset an early injury to Pele with the genius of Garrincha before rallying past Czechoslovakia 3-1 in the title-decider.

In 15 editions since, seven teams have come to lay their hands on the trophy but none could manage to retain it. Argentina (1990), Brazil (1998) and France (2022) came closest to bucking the trend but it stayed as a so-near-yet-so-far tale for them.

France’s title defence in 2002 was so calamitous that FIFA eventually removed the automatic qualification rights of the title-holders for 2006 and onwards. Italy, traditionally a slow starter in World Cups, hardly woke up in 2010 and exited with two draws and one loss at the group phase.

Just like their title-winning run in 2010, Spain began their campaign four years later with a loss — a shocking 1-5 capitulation to the Netherlands. La Roja’s fate was soon sealed with another loss to Chile next. And Germany — priding themselves on being ‘Turniermannschaft’ or a tournament team — tumbled at the group stage itself in 2018.

A nuanced phenomenon

Why do the defending champions falter so spectacularly four years after scaling the summit?

Taking teams’ historical performance and ranking data into account, a model published by the famous investment bank Goldman Sachs has significantly reduced Argentina’s chances of defending the title thanks to a ‘winner’s slump’ effect — the tendency of a reigning champion to underperform at the following World Cup.

Four years is a long time and the ‘been-there-done-that’ factor often has a shelf life of its own. However, any understanding of such an anomalous phenomenon is more nuanced and multifaceted. In an information age, a winning team immediately becomes a subject of dissection by its opponents. Spain’s tiki-taka under Vicente del Bosque in 2014 or Joaquim Loew managed Germany’s high-line swift combination style in 2018 lacked the earlier mystique, partly because the core of the team had aged and partly because the rivals had studied them more markedly and were better prepared to challenge them.

There’s also a paradox called the innovator’s dilemma at play here as coaches tend to refuse to stray from what has brought success to a project. Italy, Spain and Germany returned to defend the World Cup with the same managers, and yet, instead of putting a wager on the unproven, they came to exploit almost the same tried and trusted formula that had worked for them earlier.

So, Zinedine Zidane, the greatest of his era, was a shadow of his past for France in 2002 after missing the first two games through injury. A much slower Xavi and Iniesta failed to recreate the magic of 2010 against the fast-paced teams in Brazil under Del Bosque and Loew’s decision to bank on the world-beaters while ignoring the hungry youngsters who had won the Confederations Cup a year ago, backfired in Russia.

Add to this the impact of psychological burnout. As Juergen Klinsmann once said: “For any team that won the World Cup, they go through so much stress, so much work, tension and exhaustion that to repeat it is almost impossible.”

This will bring our focus back on two Lionels in Argentina’s camp. Can manager Scaloni, who has decided to include 17 of the 26 players from his world-conquering side of 2022, go where the likes of Marcello Lippi, Del Bosque and Loew failed to reach? Can Messi, at 38 and with his body now showing signs of wear, reproduce a sense of deja vu in the US?

The world will be watching them with hope and a not-so-kinder history standing in their way.