By Jeremy Stahl

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July 13, 20265:41 AM

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On the way to Gillette Stadium to watch the France–Morocco World Cup quarterfinal last week, I started chatting with an English reporter sitting next to me on the media bus. It turned out this fellow was a fairly prominent soccer journalist with a number of big books and podcasts to his name, and inevitably the conversation turned to the England national team and its odds of success.

While this reporter “wasn’t really the biggest England fan,” he shared a theory with me. He had covered nearly two dozen major tournaments, and the way these things generally worked, he said, is that a team with bad previous luck—even potentially a curse—could break that misfortune, but first they had to get the monkey (or series of monkeys) that had been holding them down off their backs.

For American sports fans, think back to Michael Jordan needing to defeat the Detroit Pistons before he could win his first NBA championship. Or the Boston Red Sox coming back from three games down against the Yankees to win the American League Championship in order to go on and sweep the World Series.

England, we both noted, has a lot of monkeys. It’s been 60 years since the nation that invented the sport won a major tournament, with the team coming painfully close a few times since winning the World Cup on home soil in 1966. For context, the Curse of the Billy Goat was 58 years old when Steve Bartman kept it going, and the Curse of the Bambino was 68 years old when Billy Buckner kept it going.

Now my English counterpart saw the monkeys slowly peeling off. The team’s round-of-16 victory over Mexico at the Azteca Stadium in Mexico City, where Maradona’s Hand of God defeated it in the 1986 quarterfinals: one monkey down. Also, England had embraced a manager from Germany, perhaps the bitterest of England’s football rivals, for the first time ever: monkey No. 2?

I saw what he was getting at and mentioned how the team had come back from a goal down late in the round-of-32 game against the Democratic Republic of Congo thanks to the heroics of talisman striker Harry Kane, where in past years the team certainly would have cracked. In a manner typical of the contradictory swaying between world-ending despair and hubristic overconfidence of an England fan, he noted that it didn’t count because “they were always going to win that game” against the far-lesser opposition. (Eye-roll.)

This reporter didn’t necessarily himself seem to believe that the monkey-off-the-back theory applied to this England team—or perhaps he was eager not to curse it by stating such a belief—but he didn’t have to sell me very hard.

I’ve thought England was winning this World Cup since about 15 minutes into the team’s first group-phase game against Croatia. England had a penalty kick in the match’s early moments, and typically (and hilariously to me), Kane had biffed it, sending it right into the arms of the Croatian keeper. I immediately sent my Premier League fantasy group chat a taunting “LOL.” England was going to England all over again, and as a France supporter, I was delighted. But wait. The keeper was off his line. Kane would retake his penalty. He did not miss again, burying into the bottom right corner with no hesitation. Immediately after this penalty, England looked more assured and dominant than I think I’ve ever seen the team. I placed a small bet (a $100 payout) on England to win the entire tournament, the only such wager I’ve made this whole World Cup. The players went on to put four goals past the Croatians, defeating the team that had beaten them in the semifinals eight years ago in completely dominant fashion. (Another monkey down?)

Again, personally, I do not like this team, and I’m rooting against England, to the point that I’ve annoyed my co-workers. When the team was losing for 68 minutes against that DRC team in its first knockout game, I was Slacking Slate’s World Cup group chat maniacally, prompting a colleague to ask: “Jeremy, why do you hate England’s soccer team so much?” (My response was patently demented: “A little thing called the Battle of Agincourt!?!? Ever heard of JOAN OF ARC!!!”)

So, yeah, I do not want to see England win the World Cup. Unfortunately, I’m more convinced than ever that it’s England’s year. Never in my lifetime have I believed that. But, tragically, this team is different. In addition to Kane, it has a second genuinely game-changing player in Jude Bellingham, whose back-to-back braces did more than any other player to carry the team into the semifinals. The vibes of this squad, unfortunately, are also superb, far better than any other I remember. Players are dancing in the locker room. They are joking about Viagra. Their fans are serenading them with tearful renditions of actually good pop songs, “Hey Jude” and “Wonderwall,” rather than their treacly and tonally questionable past anthem. As Fox Sports analyst and France and Arsenal great Thierry Henry put it after England’s Norway win, “What we cannot doubt with this team is the mentality that they have and the grit.”

If you don’t believe me, think about the monkeys that continue to line up and fall down. Forty years after losing a World Cup quarterfinal 2–1 thanks to the Hand of God, the team was saved in Saturday’s 2–1 quarterfinal victory over Norway by the Sky Cam of God. Next, England will face the Argentina team, of that Hand of God fame; this would normally be the place you’d think the journey would end, given the recent knockout history between these teams. This Argentina group, however, is far weaker than past iterations. Its players have needed dramatic comebacks and refereeing help to beat by far the weakest opposition any semifinalist in the field has faced. England has its best chance ever to beat Argentina on the highest stage. I think it’ll do it.

I’ve shared this theory with a friend and colleague who supports England. “JINX NO JINX JER,” they text-shouted at me.

I don’t think that by writing this, though, I can jinx England. If I could, I would, mind you. I’m writing this in a Kylian Mbappé jersey. I want England to fall. As proved by IShowSpeed, though, you can’t jinx a team you actually want to see lose.

There is little such concern about jinxes and curses from a French fanbase that has seen its team hoist the World Cup trophy more than any other in the past 30 years, and with good reason. France is the best team at this World Cup. It is the total package. Its attack of Mbappé, Ousmane Dembélé, Michael Olise, and Désiré Doué is magic to behold. The bench is stacked with attacking players, like Bradley Barcola and Rayan Cherki, who would be starting on any other team. They dominate the game in midfield possession. The team has conceded just two goals this entire World Cup, with clean sheets during the past three games. France, which still must face the Lamine Yamal–led European champions of Spain in the semis to get to a final in New York, should be unbeatable, and its fans know it.

If and when, however, England eliminates Argentina, that will be a pretty darn big monkey off its back. And if you need one more for the final, how about 250 years later, on American soil, taking down the country that helped defeat it in the American War of Independence? (Or, if you prefer, overcoming the team that beat it in the Euro final two years ago.)

Book it. England is winning the whole thing. Maybe in penalties. It’s coming home. Ugh.