This Spanish team does not blink in its low-key magnificence. As this slow-burning, cantankerous World Cup final wore on, the most basic of their statistics – the concession of one goal in the entire tournament – seemed to dawn on an Argentinian quest that was predicated on passion, the individual genius of their lodestar and a conviction that the gods were willing them to back-to-back tournament wins. It was not to be.In the end, an epic, intercontinental World Cup had been reduced to a cauldron in the brutal hinterlands of New Jersey and concluded as something claustrophobic and almost unbearable. We probably should have known. Both Spain and Argentina have demonstrated an intractable will in reaching this point. The window-dressing to this final was plucked straight from the playbook of American celebrity entertainment, but the occasion the game imposed on the day was the spirit of the Camp Nou or the Estadio Monumental. In the shade of the tunnel, both teams looked almost serene as the final minutes ticked down in a display of insistent Hollywood entertainment, with Jennifer Hudson’s anthem giving way to a bout of storytelling by Tom Cruise. It was an odd contrast to the arrival of the point of all this, the World Cup trophy, unsealed from its “Vuitton trophy truck” by Spain’s former midfielder Andres Iniesta and Mario Kempes, whose name will always evoke images of a gangly long-haired striker and the dusky World Cup of 1978, heavy on confetti and military juntas. How far removed, and corporatised, this version of the tournament felt from that maiden triumph for Argentina. High up behind bulletproof glass, Donald Trump and Gianni Infantino watched. All of this was an interminable prelude to the 3pm kick-off. And with the opening moments came the full weight of realisation of what was at stake. The opening stanzas of the game were predictably tetchy and nerve-ridden. Twice in the opening seven minutes, Argentina were forced into loose passes across the sideline as they became acquainted with Spain’s high press. Spain forward Lamine Yamal during the 2026 World Cup final match between Spain and Argentina at the New York/New Jersey Stadium in East Rutherford. Photograph: Franck Fife/AFP/Getty A pocket of glory opened up for Lamine Yamal in the fourth minute when he benefitted from yet another sublime through ball for Dani Olmo, but his left-foot connection lacked meanness and was intercepted by Luis Martinez, yet again arriving in the nick of time. Alexis Mac Allister clattered Olmo, just because. Álex Baena responded by felling Lionel Messi with an elbow in the back. The fans chanted their national chants and drummed to ward off the anxiety and the bad luck.Both teams wanted to pull each other into alien, uncomfortable places: Spain to exert control of the spacing and rhythm of the game through their clean precision game, Argentina to suck the stadium – the entire watching world – into a jagged, fractious encounter: a simmering environment from which they concoct magic. In the stadium, we waited to see whose will would prevail.It took Luis de la Fuente all of 15 minutes to lose the smart tie he wore for the occasion. Entire minutes of stalemate play passed. During those periods, Messi is not so much anonymous as invisible: his worshipful fans had to scan the field to pick him out, slouch-shouldered, strolling, head downcast, like a kid looking for lost lunch money in the playground. The sun beat its 27-degree heat down on the triple-tier stadium. The afternoon settled into somewhere between long periods of ruminative play and uneasy flashpoints. Gonzalo Montiel upended Marc Cucurella for an impudent turn on 36 minutes, and four minutes later Lisandro Martinez drew yellow for hacking down Oyarzabal. Scaloni is sentimental to a point: he replaced his defender with Nicolas Otamendi before half time. He also – wisely – restored Leandro Paredes to the team.But approaching the hour mark, this World Cup final was nearing dud-territory. It was suffering from the Trump effect: a lustrelessness descends on sports occasions he graces.Just before the second hydration break, Yamal cut inside and snapped a cross which gave Ferran Torres a second clear chance for Spain: he headed accurately, but too close to Emiliano Martinez. There lurked beneath the surface narrative a feeling that sooner or later, Argentina would find a gap at the other end – and would punish. In came Guiliano Simeone, Argentinian royalty and a true dog of war.But with Nico Williams on Spain’s left wing for the final 15 minutes of the match, the European team began to assert its passing finesse and collective superiority – and the chances began to flow. The best came when Williams popped up on the right, with Yamal a decoy, and played a smart one-two before crossing for Cubarsi: Martinez put a bit of Hollywood in his dive as he collected the effort. Rodri, languid and authoritative, was by now dictating the Spanish approach play as Argentina retreated, eyeing the clock. But just before normal time, Argentina’s roulette of hard, hacking fouls stopped with Enzo Martinez, gone after a second yellow card. The Chelsea man spent an age arguing as Cubarsi dusted himself down, as though hoping Trump might give Gianni a nudge in the stands. But now, the immutable laws of the pitch – space, fatigue, possession – seemed to weigh against the South Americans. A matter of if, and now when, for Spain. Luis de La Fuentes’ side are a patient, imperturbable kind of outfit. Nico Williams had what looked like a legitimate goal cancelled out by Argentinian stagecraft. The terrible prospect of penalties began to impose itself on the collective consciousness. When Merino flashed a header wide off a gorgeous Williams cross, it seemed as though the Argentinian goal was protected by a kind of force field. Spain forward Ferran Torres scores his team's lone goal during the 2026 World Cup final against Argentina at the New York/New Jersey Stadium in East Rutherford. Photograph: Jewel Samad/AFP/Getty But just after the second period of extra time began, Ferran Torres arrived to fire home a deft knock-down from Nico Williams after a cross from Pedro Porro. It was Spain’s 20th attempt on goal, their 12th on target, and the first to breach Martinez’s goal.Long shadows were stretching across the New Jersey grass and on Argentina’s mad, quixotic quest. It was daft and unreasonable to expect them to breach the best defence in international football with 10 men. Still, we waited for some absurd moment from Messi to drag the long day into evening. He has made us greedy. It finished 1-0: a strangely prosaic and old-fashioned conclusion to a high-wire World Cup. The sun set on the tournament – and surely, too, on Argentina’s gift from the gods. World Cup Wallchart