Wow. It was 7.57pm in Qatar, just before 6pm in Casablanca, when Facundo Tello blew the final whistle, a signal for the men on the sideline to finally let lose and stream on to the pitch, and for those who were already there to collapse on to the floor. They had done it. Legends now, the roar tore right through everyone here and way, way, beyond. History is made and it is made of this. Morocco are the first African team to make it to a World Cup semi-final.
There is just no way past them. Walid Regragui’s team have faced Belgium, Croatia, Spain and now Portugal but they are made of granite and none could tumble them. None could even score against them. In eight and a half hours of football, no opposition player has scored against them. The only goal they have conceded, against Canada, they scored themselves. Here, Portugal turned to Cristiano Ronaldo to rescue them. He had 118 international goals when he ran on; he still had 118 when he walked off again, down the tunnel in tears. This may be his last match.
It will not be Morocco’s. Ronaldo got one chance here in the 91st minute, his moment seemingly arriving right on time, but Yassine Bono saved as he has so often. Pepe got an even clearer one, a header from close range that flashed past a post in the 97th minute. Morocco, though, resisted to write another page, even after getting the substitute Walid Cheddira sent off.
They do it so well, and Portugal did not create sufficient opportunities to claim they deserved more, but do not make the mistake of thinking it is all Morocco do: they are a fantastic football team, worthy of their place in the semi-final. Worthy of their place in history too, of the wild scenes that accompanied the end here. Ultimately, one goal was enough. Scored by Youssef En-Nesyri, it came in the 41st minute but it had been coming from quite a lot earlier, the myth of Morocco’s defensiveness laid to rest once again.
Yes, they like to start from deep, dashing through; true, they like to wait for the chance to run. But this not a side that pulls everybody back and hopes. Instead, it is one with a clarity and an incision that few teams have. They work their way through tiny gaps, exchanging passes too fast for opponents to get there on time.
In Sofiane Boufal and Hakim Ziyech they have lovely feet, superb escapologists when seemingly denied space. Boufal performed first, then Azzedine Ounahi, Achraf Hakimi and Ziyech somehow emerged with the ball via the heel of the Chelsea player. When Boufal went right through the middle, the pitch opening in front of him, he was perhaps unlucky to be penalised for a hand-off as he went, the whistle going just as it looked like he was away.
A João Felix diving header had been saved by Bono after just four minutes but it was Morocco who had the better chances in a beginning that was more open than their match against Spain ever became. En-Nesyri headed over soon after following a run from Boufal, and then the hugely impressive Ounahi set up Ziyech for a shot that went wide of the near post.
If Regragui’s team had less of the ball, it was no more than they needed. En-Nesyri headed a clipped free-kick over, his position better than it first appeared, but clearer still was the opportunity that followed, Yahia Attiyat Allah pulling back perfectly for Selim Amallah. Reaching back a little, he struck it very high and very wide. At the other end, Felix’s sharp, deflected effort looked for a moment like it had gone in, but it was Morocco who most sought the breakthrough and who got it.
The cross from the left, delivered by Attiyat Allah, was long and looping and not, in truth, all that good. But if the ball was high En-Nesyri was higher, jumping like Jordan. Diogo Costa may not have expected him to get there at all, because his leap was both lower and to the left, the ball never even reaching him. He was still in the air when he realised that it wasn’t going to, falling with a look on his face that said: where’s it gone? The answer was into the net. En-Nesyri headed down – had he not done it would have gone over, such was elevation he had achieved – sending the ball bouncing off the turf and in.
Portugal’s response was immediate, Bruno Fernandes smashing a bouncing ball off the bar. They then appealed for a penalty, but Fernandes had gone to ground very easily when he felt Hamiki’s hand on his shoulder.
Instead, it was Morocco who may feel they should have got the next goal, either side of half-time. First Ounahi ran through the middle and rolled the ball into the path of Attiyat Allah inside the area on the left. The ball was begging to be finished but not like that, the full-back’s shot sliced horribly wide. Next, a free-kick somehow failed to creep into the net at a post with three men in attendance. Not long after, another sharp dash saw the pitch open before them, the goal too. From 20 yards, though, Ounahi skied it.
By then Ronaldo was on, the stage seemingly set up for him. Fernandes’s shot then flew fractionally over the bar from the edge of the area. This was Ronaldo’s 196th game for Portugal, a Fifa record. Morocco’s mission to prevent him adding to his 118 goals was made harder by the forced departure of a third member of that back four, Saiss withdrawn. En-Nesyri and Amallah followed. Ziyech would later be forced off.
The noise was something else; the nerves would be too, as Morocco fell ever-deeper, the ball left to Portugal now. They were tired and it was time to resist. But then they are good at that and, besides, it didn’t stop another superb five-man stampede, the break finally dying at the feet of Cheddira deep inside the Portuguese area. It didn’t stop them doing it again even later, in fact. Faced by a red wall Portugal were struggling to make clear chances, Ronaldo teeing up Felix for the best of them seven minutes from time. Bono flew to tip it over. A moment later he saved from Ronaldo’s low shot at the near post – perhaps the forward’s final act.
Remarkably, Morocco had one chance more before Pepe’s header at the very end. Zakaria Aboukhlal was sent clean through only to dink a shot straight at Costa. It felt like the kind of moment that fate punishes you for, the cruelty coming, but Morocco held on with just 10 men. And an entire continent.