“Y si si?” — the mantra that embodied the hopes of millions of Mexicans praying that this time their national team’s history would be rewritten, ended up being just that: a beautiful collective dream of “What if?” cut short by England.
With a 3-2 victory over El Tri, the English side silenced a historic afternoon at the Estadio Azteca in the Mexican capital.
Perhaps the most powerful thing about that “Y si si?” is how it encapsulated a shift in the fans’ mindset. It wasn’t just a phrase; it was a collective whisper daring everyone to dream big. It echoed on street corners, in family group chats, and in those final thoughts before falling asleep.
“What if this time we play like never before and win like we always should?” said Salvador González, a resident of San Diego’s Barrio Logan. He held up a sign representing the dream of an entire nation that refused to fall just short at the finish line. “We want to build a new future,” added his friend Andy Quintero.
Fans deliberately chose to ignore history, and for good reason—the record was bleak. Heading into the match, past encounters against England showed a devastating track record of six British victories to Mexico’s two.
But history was brushed aside, not just because of El Tri’s flawless recent run — the team swept through group round-robin play, going 3-0 to make the knockout rounds — but because we desperately wanted to believe that pure grit and heart would be enough. It wasn’t. We put our faith in the superhuman efforts of figures like goalkeeper Raúl “El Tala” Rangel, and the fresh, cross-border blood of Brian Gutiérrez and Obed Vargas.
Even though the English roster boasts a staggering market value of €1.7 billion compared to Mexico’s modest €192 million, fans refused to do the math. In their eyes, the only currency that matters in matches like this is courage. Plus, there was the undefeated home-field charm: England had never managed to win a match inside the colossal Coloso de Santa Úrsula.
Yet, despite the confidence inspired by El Tri, fans left nothing to chance, invoking every higher power available. On makeshift altars, prayers were offered to the Santo Niño de Atocha, San Tala, Malverde, and even Santa Muerte. As kickoff approached in Barrio Logan, beneath the highway bridges painted with historic murals detailing the Chicano struggle, the atmosphere erupted into a carnival of vuvuzelas, green flags, and the defiant humor of Pato Merlín—the duck turned symbol of popular resistance.
The whistle and the Aztec roar
Right on the dot, the opening whistle blew. While storm clouds threatened the Mexican capital, across the border in San Diego, a gorgeous, sun-drenched afternoon framed what would become the longest 90 minutes in history.
Luz María, a Sinaloan native through and through, crossed herself: “Come on, dear God, grant us this miracle, please?” In Barrio Logan, to the brassy rhythm of El Sinaloense and El Pávido Návido, the crowd huddled together, bound by a shared desperation for victory.
The match began as a high-octane exchange of blows. Mexico fired its first warning shots in the 14th and 18th minutes; England punched back in the 20th. There were no clear omens of the storm that was about to break. The pitch was contested inch by inch, and every clean tackle was celebrated like a goal. The English proved to be a formidable powerhouse, a lingering threat on every single counterattack. Soon enough, those fears materialized.
Minute 20: Harry Kane makes it 1-0
Right after Mexico’s opening salvos rattled the crossbar, England responded with their trademark clinical coldness. Capitalizing on a turnover in the Mexican midfield, Jude Bellingham spearheaded a lightning-fast counterattack, spreading the ball out to the right flank. Bukayo Saka whipped a lethal, low cross right into the heart of the box. Despite a heroic, diving effort from Raúl “El Tala” Rangel, English striker Harry Kane masterfully anticipated his marker, clinical finishing with a driven, angled shot that momentarily silenced the buzzing vuvuzelas.
Minute 36: The threat doubles at 2-0
Just as Mexico was trying to shake off the pressure and press deep into enemy territory (following another close call in the 31st minute), British individual brilliance struck again. England carved through the Mexican defense with an impeccable, one-touch passing sequence on the edge of the box. Phil Foden received the ball with his back to the goal, spun beautifully with a controlled touch that left the midfield anchoring completely stranded, and unleashed a ferocious, unstoppable strike from outside the area before the cross-border backline could close him down. The ball tucked right into the bottom-left corner, well out of Rangel’s reach.
These were two devastating blows to Mexico’s aspirations, but El Tri refused to back down. They pressed aggressively across every blade of grass, desperate to strike back before the first half bled away.
Minute 42: Pure grit cuts the deficit (1-2)
The Mexican national team refused to wave the white flag, proving their pride was very much alive. The play was born from Obed Vargas’s clean recovery and sheer tenacity in midfield. He fed the ball to Chivas of Guadalajara’s talented playmaker, Brian Gutiérrez, who drove forward with fierce determination, weaving past two English defenders. Upon reaching the edge of the box, he unleashed a wicked, low, curling right-footed strike that evaded the British keeper’s outstretched arms. The ball clipped the inside of the post and rolled in, sealing the 2-1 scoreline right before halftime and triggering the first massive roar of “¡Sí se puede!” (“Yes we can!”) across both Barrio Logan and the Azteca.
Suspense until the final breath
The drama escalated to cinematic heights in the second half. Out of nowhere, a massive turning point arrived: a red card for England! The ejection was celebrated in the stands and on the streets of San Diego as if Mexico had just scored a last-minute winner. Having the man advantage reignited the stadium’s collective hope. However, fate dealt a cruel gut-punch just moments later: a penalty awarded against Mexico dampened the party, allowing the British to stretch their lead to 3-1. Even down to ten men, the Europeans seemed to have frozen Mexico’s dream solid.
But if this Mexican squad proved anything, it was that they don’t know how to quit. The referee went over to review a play on the VAR monitor. Hearts stopped across two nations. Penalty for Mexico! “¡Sí se puede, sí se puede!” roared the green tide, swelling with pride and renewed hope.
Minute 76: The penalty of hope (2-3)
The referee pointed to the spot after a VAR review confirmed a blatant handball in the box following a dangerous cross. Bearing a monumental weight on his shoulders, veteran striker Henry Martín stepped up to take the ball. With ice in his veins, he completely fooled the English goalkeeper, slotting it calmly inside the left post to make it 3-2.
The vuvuzelas exploded, and faith was fully restored for the final, heart-stopping minutes of the match. The battle cry echoed thousands of times over. Fans in the stands bit down on their jerseys, begging for a miracle. The Mexicans pushed relentlessly down the flanks, unleashing shot after shot that missed the target by mere inches.
When the 90 minutes expired, the fourth official raised the board: a staggering 11 minutes of stoppage time! The crowd stood and cheered. It was now or never. Fans prayed with eyes tightly shut in the stadium stands and along the streets of the iconic Barrio Logan. Mexico chased the equalizer with reckless abandon, throwing bodies into every single 50-50 ball until the absolute last second.
The final whistle blew. It wasn’t enough. The 3-2 scoreline stood.
Yet, this time, the tears weren’t bitter. People embraced, walked away with their heads held high, proud because El Tri had truly played like never before and fought like lions. The prayers hadn’t flipped the script, and history had taken its toll, but what truly resonated was the courage of a team that proved “Sí se puede” is no longer just a desperate plea—it is a reality defended with an unbroken heart.
So what now?
“This isn’t over,” said one fan, Juan, folding his flag with his eyes still glassy. “Now we have to root for the US!” Juan said with a grin. “We’re going all out against Belgium.”
