In 1994, I was a seven-year-old watching the World Cup with my dad and older brother. It’s my earliest memory of having soccer fever — and ever since, I’ve watched every World Cup as a Mexican American cheering for Mexico’s national team.
That year, Mexico faced Italy, the Republic of Ireland and Norway in a “Group of Death” group phase. Every team had won, lost, and drawn against each other, making it the only time in World Cup history in which every team had the exact same record, and cumulative number of group points. Mexico, on aggregate goal results, advanced as the first-place team.
🌍⚽ Throwback to the 1994 World Cup: Presenting the Mexico Squad! 🇲🇽⚽
Hello Football Time Capsule followers! Today, we’re taking a nostalgic trip back to the 1994 World Cup in the USA, highlighting the spirited and talented Mexico squad that made waves in the tournament. 🇲🇽🏆… pic.twitter.com/smCYchPRwI
— Football Time Capsule (@TimeCapsule30) June 14, 2024
And then, El Tri faced an upstart, unlikely Bulgarian team in the dreaded round of 16. With the score tied 1-1, they went on to lose against Bulgaria in arguably the most heartbreaking fashion known in professional sports: penalty kicks. Three Mexican players missed their shots, and Bulgaria moved on. (Bulgaria then defeated defending world champions, Germany, and finished the tournament in fourth place that year, marking their best ever World Cup performance).
Mexico, meanwhile, descended into a purgatory of World Cup disappointment — and despite this year’s epic efforts, they have yet to provide a better result in the past 32 years.
Dating back to 1986 when Mexico last hosted the World Cup — and prior to my birth — Mexico has consistently failed to advance past the “cursed” round of 16. Year in and year out, the team shows glimmers of promise, builds momentum going into a World Cup, and then — without fail — unravels in the most intense, unthinkable ways amid their biggest opponents. It’s an ongoing joke among Mexico’s supporters that each time will be different (while simultaneously admitting that it won’t). This World Cup’s “¿y si sí?” craze reflected that self-deprecatory fandom — which embodies Mexico’s playful and humorous spirit, roughly translated into a “we know we won’t actually win…. but what if we do?” chant.
Agonizing defeats in my lifetime have included a loss against Germany in 1998 (a closely played 2-1 final); against their rival United States in 2002 (held to a shutout against the U.S.); against Argentina, back to back, in both 2006 and 2010 (Mexico fumbled a lead against the Argentines in 2006, ended by an incredible last-minute blast from Maxi Rodriguez in extra time); against the Netherlands in 2014 (arguably the toughest loss in Mexico’s recent history, which will forever be remembered as the “no era penal” controversy, in which Mexico again lost their lead in dramatic fashion); and against Brazil in 2018, held, again, to a shutout. In 2022, for the first time in their history, Mexico didn’t even advance out of the group stage, making it the worst of them all.
That brings us to 2026. Mexico, as a World Cup co-host, went into the tournament with middling expectations, as many of the team’s most internationally renowned players were struggling to find their footing; the past few years of play had been far from Mexico’s best. Still, under the vision of Mexican coach Javier Aguirre, who has coached Mexico on and off since 2001, and who I vividly remember from my youth, Mexico was able to assemble an unlikely cast of national heroes, built on the likes of Julian Quiñones, young, future stars like Gilberto Mora and Brian Gutierrez, and veteran mainstays such as Raul Jimenez. Unlike in years past, Aguirre crafted a team of cohesion and balance, rather than big-name divas (his decision to keep Mexico’s biggest stars, including Santiago Jiménez, Edson Álvarez and Alexis Vega, on the bench for the majority of the tournament was a sign of his prudent commitment to the greater good).
Mexico’s historic group-stage showcase this summer — having gone undefeated for the first time going back to their debut at the inaugural World Cup in 1930 — was memorable and certainly electrified the nation of loyal, longing fans. Along with Guillermo “Memo” Ochoa’s record-breaking, emotional final game against Czechia at Estadio Azteca in the third game of the opening round, Mexico gave its supporters plenty to rejoice and to remember in their first three matches. They went unbeaten and cruised into their round of 32 matchup against Ecuador. Prior to this year’s World Cup, which expanded its field of teams from 32 to 48, the round of 32 had never existed; this additional “knockout” phase was included to accommodate the greater number of teams in competition, making it unprecedented.
Ecuador severely underperformed in this World Cup, after entering as the second-highest-placing team in South American qualifying play, but stuttered its way to an underwhelming third place in the group stage.
Beating them in the round of 32 was a high for Mexican fans, but certainly didn’t break any curse, as it happened in a format that had never been seen up to this year’s World Cup. Instead, it extended Mexico’s usual comfort zone: games played before the deathly round of 16.
England, therefore, posed Mexico’s first genuine challenge. And like the past 32 years, they were unable to find a way forward in their toughest moment. Mexico played their hearts out and briefly gave England a scare. But their usual ways of committing costly errors — giving up the ball near midfield under a press and allowing the English to score within a minute of each other, thus nearly sealing their fate — yet again defined Mexico’s World Cup woes.
Ultimately, when the stakes are highest and the competition stiffest, Mexico inescapably squanders its opportunities and gives away goals. They lack creativity and playmaking and fall into a pattern of repetitive and desperate — if not panicked — play. In the second half, after England had been penalized with a red card in the 54th minute and lost a player for the rest of the match, Mexico could not find the back of the net, as England outwilled and out-positioned the Mexican attackers, who continued to send the ball into the box ad nauseam.
And yet, the Mexican squad fought, as they always do. And sometimes, that’s enough to give a nation hope when facing a traditional footballing power.
Being in Mexico for this World Cup was an out-of-body experience. I bused out from Veracruz to Mexico City to attend events during the World Cup’s opening events last month, bringing my son and wife along with me to wander the historic Zócalo, watch games and explore events and pop-ups drenched with global fanfare. From museum exhibits to Dr. Simi, street vendors to Michelin-starred chefs, the entire country was seemingly behind El Tri. And for just over four weeks, it felt euphoric and unifying to see everyone wearing their jerseys, while holding their breaths together, collectively and optimistically.
We spent an evening at Orca Cafe — a small, quirky retail shop and cafe in Roma Norte that is completely dedicated to soccer fandom, year-round. We enjoyed a special soccer exhibit at Papalote Museo del Niño in Parque Chapultepec, where swarms of children, including my son, discovered their love of the game together in a genuine, interactive way. We enjoyed an art gallery showing at GAMA and purchased art for our home, all of it inspired by Captain Tsubasa, a Japanese manga and anime from the 1980s that has become iconic in Mexico for its whimsical portrayal of soccer and the large dreams it can hold.
In the hours following Mexico’s tough but somewhat expected defeat against a top-ranked England, Mexico fans cheered throughout my neighborhood. They cheered not for the loss itself, of course, but for the pride of a country that always seems to be in the fight, and knows how to enjoy the fun and rigors of the journey, and not simply the destination.
Memes and video clips of Mexican fans celebrating each victory at el Ángel de la Independencia and beyond went viral. Foreigners proclaimed Mexico as a core lifetime experience, a nation they deemed welcoming and abundant with incredible food. Even Mexicans who don’t quite care for the sport itself clamored over Mexico’s performances on the pitch and thanked the team with heartfelt messages on social media about giving everyone something to rally behind.
That’s the power of the game, and of Mexico and its people: to believe, if only for 90 minutes, that it is always possible to win — even when winning remains at a historically unreachable distance.
Alan Chazaro is the author of “These Spaceships Weren’t Built For Us” (Tia Chucha Press, 2026), “Notes from the Eastern Span of the Bay Bridge” (Ghost City Press, 2021), “Piñata Theory” (Black Lawrence Press, 2020), and “This Is Not a Frank Ocean Cover Album” (Black Lawrence Press, 2019). He is a graduate of June Jordan’s Poetry for the People program at UC Berkeley and was selected as a Lawrence Ferlinghetti Poetry Fellow at the University of San Francisco. His work can be found in NPR, The Guardian, SLAM, GQ, L.A. Times and more. He is currently based in Veracruz.
