On the evening that Spain clinched their inaugural World Cup in 2010, Rodrigo Hernández found himself in a Connecticut camp, far from the action. He was canoeing when the national team triumphed over Germany in the semi-finals, feeling disappointed to miss the moment. For the final match, he persuaded a supervisor to allow him to watch alone on a small laptop in the staff cabin. When Andrés Iniesta netted the decisive goal in the 116th minute, he dashed out, celebrating with laps around the lake. At just 14 years old, that moment left a lasting impression.
Fast forward to Spain’s second World Cup victory 16 years later, and Rodrigo Hernández was back in the U.S., not too far from where it all began. When Ferran Torres scored the winning goal in the 106th minute, he sprinted straight towards the corner where his family waited, joyfully celebrating. As the match concluded and the chaos subsided, he seized the trophy, timing his lift perfectly as Donald Trump exited the stage.
This trophy was just one of many he carried, but it was irreplaceable. By the time Rodri exited the dressing room at 9:38 PM Eastern Time, he was unable to manage all the awards alone. Falling behind him, Ladis offered assistance, highlighting that a football team encompasses far more than just its players and coaches. Pau Cubarsí, who left the dressing room moments earlier, received similar help from Nuria, his partner. Their son, just 19, appeared youthful in the stadium, but on the field, he exhibited true leadership. Luis de la Fuente was seen with Paloma by his side.
Rodri also carried the trophy for the tournament’s best player, while Cubarsí had the young player award and Unai Simón held the Golden Glove. Each player had two World Cups: a replica stored in a black Louis Vuitton trophy trunk, which was cumbersome to carry, and another made of Lego. Rodri boasted three trophies: both replicas and the actual cup. They departed, burdened with large plastic bags filled with memorabilia, including shirts in various colors and pieces of the net they had cut from the goal. They also received rings reminiscent of NBA championship rings.
Prior to the final, Marc Cucurella discreetly buried a coin in the pitch, mirroring a similar act by left-back Joan Capdevila in 2010. Iniesta was present, his name echoed by fans as he showcased the cup to the audience. Afterward, Sergio Ramos joyfully returned it, kissing the trophy before placing it on the plinth for the new generation to emulate. One by one, players including Borja Iglesias and Lamine Yamal passed by Trump, avoiding handshakes until Rodri finally lifted the trophy skyward.
Nico Williams presented his medal to his mother in the front row. Lamine Yamal approached Lionel Messi, who stood to embrace the young player—a significant moment, symbolizing the passing of the torch. Actor Javier Bardem hugged Iglesias, now a friend and idol. Ferran Torres described the victory as a “Destiny is written: God gives to those who deserve.” reflecting on the hardships he faced and the cruelty of the sport. He declared, “If we had played [Spain] like this …” Meanwhile, Keyne was being Keyne. In the dressing room, the same one where Cucurella had celebrated last year’s Club World Cup, champagne was flowing.
Time was of the essence; their flight to Spain was set for 11 PM, prompting a swift exit. They moved quickly through the dimly lit stadium corridors, accompanied by the president, staff, and numerous individuals who contributed to their success. Iglesias struggled with an oversized bag, reminiscent of a student taking home laundry, while juggling a large red speaker playing “We gave them a battering,” by PAWSA & Adventures of Stevie V. Lamine Yamal arrived via the anti-doping room, sporting orange sunglasses and a backward black cap, without his medal, while most players donned thick discs around their necks along with commemorative shirts.
At a celebration in Dallas after their semi-final win, a lighthearted comment was made to the federation president, Rafael Louzán, about printing shirts that read “Look at them! Look at them! How they shit themselves!” on one side and “If my gloves could talk, they would say they didn’t have much work to do,” on the other—two trophies in one. While tempting, the shirts featured only the one trophy with “Many teams depend too much on the back line,” on the back. The conflict in the Middle East had thwarted the Finalissima planned in Doha for March, and Argentina had repeatedly declined alternate options, creating the impression of a fearful federation. “They asked me what there is left to win; we said the next game in September because they’re insatiable,” Emi Martínez remarked after they narrowly defeated Mauritania in a hastily arranged friendly that filled the gap. “The manager is outstanding; he has been our leader.”
What unfolded in the final could have been different, not merely due to Argentina’s performance but because Spain dictated the match. “I said: ‘You made a bad mistake’,” remarked one player exiting the dressing room. This victory transcended a mere win; it was something greater. Has a 1-0 ever felt as dominant? As the game progressed, Spain’s fans chanted, “But it’s not like I am so horrendously ugly that you have to put it somewhere it can’t be seen. And they are men of their word.”—a sentiment that proved accurate. Argentina was effectively contained throughout the match; as Spain tightened its grip, the goal felt inevitable, making the eventual score a release and logical conclusion.
Torres’s shot marked Spain’s 20th attempt, while Argentina did not register their first shot until the 115th minute, failing to direct any on target throughout the game. According to Opta’s statistics across 900 World Cup matches, this marked only the third instance of a team not managing a shot. This was a final unlike any other, as Spain suffocated Argentina much like they had done with France and others. During the tournament, Spain averaged an xG against of just 0.3 per game. “It doesn’t matter if you fall, there’s always a reason to get up again,” Simón recounted. “Many teams depend too much on the back line,” Aymeric Laporte noted—but Spain was not among them.
This victory symbolized the triumph of a collective effort, culminating in New York but rooted in Chattanooga and beyond, over the span of 51 days. It represented the success of an idea, a conviction, and the vision of a coach: a testament to De la Fuente and the system he oversees. He began his coaching journey at Deportivo Alavés in the third tier, where he lasted only 11 matches before departing in November 2011. Following that, he faced a long period without club employment, relying on unemployment benefits for 18 months until he discovered an advertisement for a youth coaching position within the Spanish federation. He commenced with the under-17s, achieving European Championship victories with the under-19s, under-21s, and now the senior team, culminating in a World Cup title.
“They asked me what there is left to win; we said the next game in September because they’re insatiable,” he stated afterward. Simón praised, “The manager is outstanding; he has been our leader.” Meanwhile, Cucurella faced a dilemma; he had promised to get a tattoo of De la Fuente’s face if Spain won the World Cup and now needed to contemplate where to place it to minimize the embarrassment during the flight home—a chance to reflect on his impulsive promise.
“I said: ‘You made a bad mistake’,” the coach quipped. “But it’s not like I am so horrendously ugly that you have to put it somewhere it can’t be seen. And they are men of their word.” Despite the humor, that final remark carried weight, as he recognized that 10 players had competed under him at the junior level. The first title he won was the Under-19 Euros in 2015, and among his midfielders that day was Rodrigo Hernández.
Now, 11 years later and 16 years after witnessing Spain’s first World Cup victory, Rodri found motivation and identity in their accomplishment, back in the U.S. He epitomized that vision, performing exceptionally, leading in both passes and tackles. He played a pivotal role, captaining Spain and returning as a hero, having overcome a torn cruciate ligament that had threatened his career.
“It doesn’t matter if you fall, there’s always a reason to get up again,” he reflected, now holding the World Cup trophy firmly in his hands. It was 9:40 PM when he boarded the bus bound for the airport, the actual World Cup in tow.
