France's Dominance, Mexico's Breakthrough, and Norway's Viking Victory

Didier Deschamps stood on the touchline and bowed.

Palms outstretched, grin wide, he dipped in mock supplication as Kylian Mbappé came off with five minutes left. Sweden were beaten long before then, 3-0 down and reeling, but this was something else: a manager acknowledging that, for one night at least, his team had brushed against greatness.

France didn’t just win. They swarmed. They overwhelmed. This was 3-0 that felt like it should have been six.

Mbappé scored twice, Bradley Barcola added another, and Michael Olise threaded the whole spectacle together with two assists and the swagger of a man who looked entirely at ease on this stage. Both Mbappé and Olise hit the post, Olise with a daring overhead kick that missed the goal of the tournament by inches and a heartbeat.

Sweden never really had a foothold. They had a vantage point. Graham Potter admitted afterwards his side wouldn’t have won even if they had been “perfect”, and it didn’t sound like self‑pity. It sounded like realism in the face of a team playing at a terrifyingly high pitch.

France sliced through Sweden almost at will. Mbappé struck on the stroke of half-time, then Barcola killed what little jeopardy remained eight minutes after the restart. When Mbappé added his second on 74 minutes, it felt like a mercy that France didn’t chase the humiliation. Deschamps’ late double substitution was part rotation, part tribute: his superstar withdrawn to applause, his own bow a quiet nod to the scale of the performance.

The question now is not whether France are contenders. It is what kind of champions they are threatening to become. Are they building towards the ruthless, coronated inevitability of Brazil in 1970? Or are they closer to the brilliant, doomed artists of 1982, who lit up a World Cup only to be ambushed by Italy?

On this evidence, opponents will be sleeping lightly.

Mexico wake the Azteca

Hours later and thousands of miles away, the night in Mexico City began with a pause. Lightning in the area pushed back kick-off between Mexico and Ecuador by an hour, the storm rumbling around the Azteca like a warning.

Once the game started, the thunder moved inside.

The stadium’s old concrete bowl shook under the weight of noise and expectation, and Ecuador simply couldn’t live with it. Mexico came flying out, carried by the roar and by a teenager who played like he’d grown up on these steps.

Gilberto Mora, the breakout star of this Mexican campaign, drove his team forward with the fearlessness of youth. Mexico struck twice in the first half, Julián Quiñones on 22 minutes and Raúl Jiménez on 31, and from there they never looked like letting go.

By the end, the scoreline read 2-0, but the result carried a heavier weight. Mexico had just won a World Cup knockout game for the first time since they last hosted the tournament in 1986. Forty years of frustration, false dawns and round-of-16 exits briefly washed away in the thin air.

England, if they get past DR Congo later today, will meet Mexico here at the Azteca. They will walk into the same noise, the same heat, the same sense of history pressing down from the stands. They have been warned.

Haaland, history and a Viking celebration

Norway’s relationship with Brazil has always been one of football’s quirks. Four meetings, no defeats. Two wins, two draws. A statistical oddity that never quite felt like a rivalry.

Now they get to test that record on the biggest stage.

Erling Haaland’s late winner against Ivory Coast sealed Norway’s passage to the last 16 and a date with the five-time world champions. It came at the end of a wild, rocking tie that swung one way, then the other, before Haaland did what Haaland does.

Antonio Nusa had given Norway the lead on 39 minutes, only for Amad Diallo to drag Ivory Coast level with the goal of the day. Diallo slalomed through Norwegian challenges, feet dancing, before finishing with the composure of a player who knew exactly what he wanted the moment he picked up the ball. It was an equaliser that felt like a turning point.

Instead, it became a prelude.

With four minutes of normal time remaining, substitute Oscar Bobb split the Ivorian defence with an incisive pass, and Haaland pounced on the chance, burying the winner on 86 minutes. Cue the familiar, slightly surreal sight: Norway’s players sitting in a line, rowing an imaginary Viking longboat across the turf, an ancient myth repurposed as a modern victory dance.

Now comes Brazil, and the question of whether that strange, unbeaten record can survive another 90 minutes.

The day’s quieter stories

Diallo’s strike against Norway stood out from a rich collection of goals, not just for the finish but for the journey that preceded it. He weaved, he rode challenges, he chose his moment. It was the kind of goal that briefly silences a stadium before it erupts.

The day also delivered one of those odd, human asides that live long in tournament memory. As Bobb prepared to influence the game on the pitch, he inadvertently wandered into a different story in the commentary box. Danny Murphy, on BBC co‑comms, confessed he once had a cat called Bob who jumped into the back of a Royal Mail van and vanished. “Sad really. Anyway.” A World Cup knockout tie paused, for a second, by the ghost of a lost pet.

Away from the ball, one image cut through the noise. After Mbappé’s first goal against Sweden, he went straight to Deschamps on the touchline. The France manager had flown home last week for his mother’s funeral, then returned to steer this team through the tension of knockout football. The embrace between star forward and coach said more than any post-match quote ever could.

Elsewhere, the World Cup schedule keeps rolling: England against DR Congo, Belgium facing Senegal, USA meeting Bosnia and Herzegovina in the small hours. Each game another test, another omen, another chance for a new story to elbow its way into the tournament’s narrative.

On a day when France roared, Mexico finally broke a decades-long barrier and Norway kept their peculiar hold over destiny, one thought lingered: if this is only the round of 32, what on earth is still to come?