If Oswald Spengler were alive to watch the 2026 French World Cup squad warm up, he wouldn’t need a history book—he’d just point at the starting XI and say, “There it is. The Decline, in cleats.” Because let’s be honest: none of these lads are swapping baguette recipes with their grand-mère. The surnames read like a roll call at a United Nations youth summit, the national anthem is mouthed with varying degrees of commitment, and the only thing “traditionally French” about half the team is the jersey they put on before kickoff. The man spent his whole career warning us about the West losing its soul—he just didn’t realize it would happen via a 4-3-3 formation.
The French cheat code didn’t work for them today.
