Goals

Japan’s entire 2018 World Cup cycle was something of a bitter complaint. Yes, the Samurai Blue qualified for a sixth straight tournament, but manager Vahid Halilhodzic was fired ten weeks before the finals for doing things like losing to the UAE and drawing with Iraq. To begin World Cup play, Japan recorded a 2-1 win over Colombia but somehow managed to look second-best despite playing 87 minutes with a man advantage.

The opening 20 minutes of Mexico versus Brazil couldn’t have gone any better from an El Tri perspective. Carlos Vela and Andres Guardado were finding joy on the left with Fagner looking set for a nightmare. Chucky looked dangerous. But more importantly, Philippe Coutinho and Neymar hardly got a sniff of the ball with Rafa Marquez, Edson Alvarez and Hugo Ayala all taking turns putting the Brazilians on their backs.

You don’t grapple with Sergio Ramos. Unless you want to damage your shoulder ligaments or score a disastrous own goal in front of 80,000 of your countrymen, just stay away from the guy. He’s always a threat on set pieces — especially when the clock reads 92:48 — but he’s also a major threat with his understanding of judo.  

Zlatan Ibrahimovic has shown his support for Sweden throughout the World Cup, but after being left off the 23-man squad despite his status as the nation’s all-time top goalscorer, you can bet that the Blue-Yellow’s march to the Round of 16 has been somewhat bittersweet for the 36-year-old. 

A thrilling first half saw Argentina and France level at 1-1 thanks to goals from Antoine Griezmann and Angel Di Maria. Then two right backs took over the scoring, first Gabriel Mercado and then the insanely perfect Benjamin Pavard goal vs Argentina on Saturday.

Argentina's Mercado scored more out of the fortune of being on Lionel Messi's team than anything else, turning in a shot from the No. 10 to give Argentina a 2-1 lead in the 48th minute. 

The game’s an original drama unlike any other, but for 40 minutes of Argentina versus Nigeria at Saint Petersburg Stadium, this felt like a rerun. There was Javier Mascherano, bloodied, stretching every sinew as the side’s aging lynchpin and guilty of doing too much.