How Argentina's 2018 World Cup Football Team Faced Unexpected Challenges

I remember sitting in a Buenos Aires café during that sweltering June afternoon, watching Argentina's opening match against Iceland on a screen that kept flickering every time someone opened the door. The air was thick with anticipation and the smell of medialunas, but what struck me most was the collective gasp when Iceland—a nation with roughly 330,000 people, smaller than many Buenos Aires neighborhoods—managed to hold Messi's squad to a 1-1 draw. That moment captured the essence of how Argentina's 2018 World Cup football team faced unexpected challenges that went far beyond what anyone had predicted during their qualification campaign.

Looking back, I can't help but feel that we'd all been somewhat naive about their chances. I'd followed their qualification journey closely—they'd barely scraped through, finishing third in CONMEBOL with just 28 points from 18 matches. Yet there was this unshakable belief among fans that with Messi, anything was possible. But football, as I've come to understand through years of watching and playing, has this funny way of reminding you that talent alone doesn't guarantee success. The team arrived in Russia carrying the weight of a nation's expectations and the ghost of their 2014 final loss to Germany, but what they encountered were challenges nobody had properly prepared for.

The Croatia match remains particularly vivid in my memory—sitting in that same café, watching as Argentina collapsed 3-0 in what felt like a slow-motion disaster. What struck me wasn't just the scoreline, but how disorganized they looked. Coach Jorge Sampaoli's frantic gestures on the sidelines contrasted sharply with the calm composure of Croatia's manager Zlatko Dalić. There were visible communication issues between players, with Messi often dropping deep to try to orchestrate play while the defense looked uncertain. I remember thinking how the team seemed to be playing as individuals rather than a cohesive unit, something that became painfully evident when goalkeeper Willy Caballero's terrible mistake led to Croatia's first goal.

What many people don't realize is how much off-field drama contributed to their struggles. I spoke with several Argentine journalists during that time, and they revealed how internal conflicts had been brewing long before the tournament. There were reports of disagreements between Sampaoli and senior players over tactics, with the coach's high-press system apparently clashing with what the squad believed was their strength. The football federation was in chaos too—I learned later that they'd gone through three different presidents in the two years leading up to the World Cup. When your own house isn't in order, how can you expect to compete at the highest level?

This brings me to something a former coach once told me during my university playing days. "In a match, no matter what sport it is, you can't really take away the competition aspect of it," he said. Those words echoed through my mind as I watched Argentina's desperate 2-1 victory over Nigeria in their final group match—a win that felt more like relief than triumph. The competition aspect wasn't just about the opponents; it was about competing with expectations, with pressure, with their own limitations. Marcos Rojo's 86th-minute winner sparked celebrations across Argentina, but even then, I couldn't shake the feeling that they'd merely postponed the inevitable.

Their eventual 4-3 defeat to France in the round of 16 was arguably one of the tournament's most thrilling matches, yet it perfectly encapsulated Argentina's fundamental problems. They led twice, with Messi briefly restoring hope with his 41st-minute goal, but their defense couldn't handle Kylian Mbappé's explosive pace. Watching Mbappé—then just 19 years old—tear through Argentina's backline was like witnessing the future of football collide with its past. The statistics told a grim story: France had 15 shots to Argentina's 10, and won 55% of duels. What the numbers didn't show was how Argentina's midfield, with an average age of nearly 30, struggled to keep up with France's youthful energy.

From my perspective, the real challenge Argentina faced wasn't tactical or technical—it was psychological. Having followed this team for years, I believe they were trapped between generations, trying to reconcile Messi's genius with the need for a modern, collective approach. The 2018 squad had 8 players aged 30 or older, compared to France's 3. They seemed caught between wanting to play attractive, attacking football and recognizing their defensive vulnerabilities. This identity crisis manifested throughout their campaign, creating a team that never quite gelled despite having world-class individuals.

What fascinates me most in retrospect is how these challenges forced Argentina to confront realities they'd been avoiding. The retirement of several veterans after the tournament marked the end of an era, paving the way for the younger squad that would eventually win the 2022 World Cup. Sometimes, I wonder if those difficult moments in Russia were necessary growing pains—the kind that ultimately leads to greater success. The 2018 team's struggle against unexpected challenges taught us that in football, as in life, sometimes you need to fall before you can rise stronger.