So here we are. Last four times at Euro 2020. Two teams enter, one team leaves, at Wembley Thunderdome. (Okay, then two more teams enter, one of them leaves, and the remaining two teams face off on Sunday for all the marbles... I love the third Mad Max; sue me.)
There’s something about a one-off knockout round that just works. UEFA realized this last year, when, due to the coronavirus pandemic, the Champions League quarter-finals were turned into single-leg affairs. That is why they are looking at eliminating the two-legged semi-final and going with the last four format in one place.
We are seeing this in Euro 2020. The majority of knockout games have been entertaining, partly because of the stakes involved, partly because there is no second chance. And, conversely, each game is a stand-alone. This matters, because if there is a pattern to this Euro, it may well be that each match has its own story, vastly different from the previous one (or the next one).
If a 38-game season represents a book with 38 chapters, it is a collection of episodic short stories: the same protagonists, but not necessarily different themes, and often different plots.
Consider the four semifinalists. We might love to draw a thread between each of the five matches we’ve played so far, but it’s going to be far more different from a club side in a regular season than in any five-game sequence, at least for the time being. Emotional reaction from players or fans in context.
Denmark were clearly dealing with the big blow of Christian Eriksen’s collapse in the opening game, and then found themselves on zero points after the first two games. They went on to defeat Russia (in a game that, at long last, was closer than the 4–1 scoreline) and qualified for the Round of 16, beating Wales 4–0 and then the Czechs in the quarter-finals. Left back.
The path taken from each game was different in many ways. Ericsson made everything right in the first match. The second game was serious, the third was a roller coaster (due to the result in the second game as well), the fourth was a romp, and the fifth was in doubt until the final whistle.
How about England? Praised after an early win against Croatia, we had doom and gloom after a draw with Scotland, disappointment for 0.00 xG in the second half despite a win over Czech, enthusiasm to finally beat Germany, and then Ukraine Full enthusiasm after defeat.
Spain? In some ways, it has been worse. After two draws in the opening two games, possession and missed chances and penalties, some questioned his character. Then, after beating Slovakia 5–0, a reminder that, yes, they are talented, and passing and patience are rewarded. This was followed by an incredible ride against Croatia: down 0-1, up 3-1, 3-3 (with two goals after the 85th minute), 5-3. All in one game. And then, to reach the semi-finals, a comparative snoozefest against Switzerland, which was down to 10 men for 48 minutes, which they resolved on penalties. How do you start assessing where they are after a tornado like this?
Italy has arguably been the most consistent, at least in terms of results and responses. But after walking up to the table in the group stage and dominating the first half against Austria, they suffered heavy losses, squandered chances, took VAR’s help and, finally, went into extra time. What followed was possibly his best performance of the tournament against Belgium, but still, he came to equalize with a Leonardo Spinazola thigh and a Gigio Donnarumma glove.
Club football has its merits, but it doesn’t do that to you. The emotional connection we can feel with our clubs is just as strong – and often stronger – but it is a slower, more intense connection. It is perhaps even more painful: after all, to some degree, we choose our clubs, but we do not choose our national teams. (Well, most don’t.)
But there’s nothing quite like the narrow, no-tomorrow emotional swing of international knockout tournaments, be it the Euros, the World Cup or the Copa America. Maybe it’s just not the format. Maybe it’s the difference of three years since the last one that makes it all the more special, or the fact that we’re seeing fans in the stands (in fact, almost full stadiums, in some cases). Or maybe it’s the fact that in much of Europe, it comes just as we are turning the page on one of the darkest periods in our recent history. So here we are. Last four times at Euro 2020. Two teams enter, one team leaves, at Wembley Thunderdome. (Okay, then two more teams enter, one of them leaves, and the remaining two teams face off on Sunday for all the marbles... I love the third Mad Max; sue me.)
There’s something about a one-off knockout round that just works. UEFA realized this last year, when, due to the coronavirus pandemic, the Champions League quarter-finals were turned into single-leg affairs. That is why they are looking at eliminating the two-legged semi-final and going with the last four format in one place.