Welcome back. Of course, let me start with the most important news of the week: Spain won the World Cup. Surprised? Well, you shouldn't be, because bad punditry aside (and there was plenty of it) it was the logical conclusion.

Football is a team sport, and that's something the Spanish have mastered, because it's a system, a school of thought, that defines the game, not a star player. The coach can swap midfielders, you won't notice it on the pitch because the structure remains: dominate passes, own the ball and ultimately score.

There was something of poetic justice to it too, and I can only point you to Brazilian newscaster Bruno Cantarelli, who captured the winning goal scored by Barcelona striker Ferran Torres with the most memorable analysis of the final.

 O futebol vence a catimba — he shouted at the top of his lungs.

What does it mean? It's difficult to describe because it's a vibe, and Brazilian Portuguese is brilliant at capturing that. Sometimes you have to drop the literal translation and follow the melody of the words instead. But if I had to give a very broad description, it's the idea that football – with a capital F, o jogo bonito, the beautiful game – triumphed over catimba: the provocation, the cheating, and the lying. In other words, Spain represented football in its purest form; Argentina represented a catimba. I know that's going to get me some hate mail.

But let me explain:

​ Was Argentina the bête noire of the competition? Certainly. Is Enzo Fernández the most unpopular player? I'd say most definitely, perhaps only topped by his teammate Leandro Paredes. Does Argentina play rough? Absolutely. The final's red card over Cubarsí speaks for itself. Do Argentines relish the role of the villain? This is where it gets interesting. And borderline psychotic (but fun).

While the world spoke of karma being served, Argentinians saw a plot by FIFA to dethrone Messi. An international hate campaign against the country involving Infantino, the FBI (yes, you heard that right), the UK Royal Family and Lamine Yamal. Sounds hysterical? It is and it's also a test case for post-truth society.  

For hours on end, Argentine TV shows shared pseudo-theories explaining why their national football team lost the final. First, a ploy by FIFA to crown Lamine Yamal, the 19-year-old Spanish striker, as the next global superstar destined to replace Messi, now 39, in some sort of messianic rite of passage. This one is good, but it's not my personal favourite. A softer version of this "theory" suggested that Infantino, the FIFA boss, no longer wants the same country to win twice in order to balance out nationalities and bring in more cash. 

Then, there was the imminent FBI arrest of the Argentine football association boss, Claudio "Chiqui" Tapia. To be clear, he was not arrested. Still Argentine players, the story goes, began to fear that special forces would break into their locker room, destabilising their game plan. This would "explain" why Messi was caught on tape telling his teammates: "Forget about everything, let's just play."

There was also King Charles.

The theory goes that the British Crown sought to punish the Argentine players for a banner waved in their semi-final against England reading: Las Malvinas son argentinas, or "the Falklands belong to Argentina" alongside FIFA. Facing a penalty (allegedly) including a 10-year suspension, the noble Argentines decided they would let Spain win in a game in which they barely touched the ball.

Lastly, there was the politics. Argentina losing the final would be part of a global campaign led by the football Comintern of woke to destroy the country's reputation, hurt Javier Milei and his chainsaw revolution, and push the left-wing, progressive propaganda of the Spanish instead. Punchy, but overdone. I believe the Russians and a Bolivian army of bots were involved, but the details here became so unhinged that I ultimately lost track of the many twists and turns.

Unfortunately, reality is far more boring than that, and it cannot match the Argentine genius for theatrics – and I mean this as a compliment. 

Spain dominated the game, with a 68% possession rate. If you can't touch the ball, you can't win. Spain took 20 shots, 11 of them on target, doubled Argentina's passes, and had a higher accuracy rate too. Argentina had Fernández sent off, while Spain kept their squad practically intact. Scaloni's substitutions didn't really make a difference, while bringing on Ferran led to a goal for Spain. Messi looked as though he had disappeared from the pitch, because he did. 

So, where is all of this coming from? That's the question we put to our guests this week on Euronews. Some suggested Argentina is a country of high emotions: it's all or nothing. Football remains an area where they have dominated for decades, even as the country's economic decline became entrenched. It's a tough world; so you have to play rough and strike first.

My colleague Michael Reid, who can be forgiven for being English in this feuilleton, told Europe Today that football is far more important in Latin America than it is in Europe when it comes to the social and political fabric of the continent. The cost of losing, and what you're willing to sacrifice in order to win, is significantly higher for better or worse. 

Then there's the Italian legacy, which in a country like Argentina matters. 

Reid told us that, much like in the 1960s and early 1970s, when the Italians turned catenaccio into a winning strategy, Argentines have also embraced a more aggressive style of play. He also suggested that the question of why Argentina plays like that might ultimately be better answered by a psychoanalyst — which is convenient, because the country has one of the highest ratios of psychoanalysts per capita in the world. The psyche matters in sport.

And I have to give them some credit. No other country brings the theatrics, the excess, the comedy and the tragedy like Argentines do. When you look at the Malvinas issue, one could argue that it comes down to freedom of expression. For the English, there is no debate, but for Argentines, it's a legitimate political protest and is shared by many. By the way, no one knows what the Falkland Islands are in the Spanish-speaking world; everyone calls them Islas Malvinas. That's a linguistic reality, not necessarily a political statement on its own.

Nonetheless, FIFA is investigating whether Argentina breached football rules during its semi-final against England as a result, and is also studying possible penalties following a physical altercation involving Paredes after the Spain final. 

Expect little from FIFA. The federation is too busy laughing all the way to the bank after a successful tournament in terms of revenue and television ratings. For the football giant, this World Cup had a clear goal: breaking into the profitable North American market. Judging by the numbers for the final broadcast simultaneously on Fox, in English, and Telemundo, in Spanish, it did.

Speaking of Infantino, this week the New York Post reported that Trump is eyeing him to lead the United Nations, replacing António Guterres, who is very much disliked by the Americans. The paper reported that the US President sees Infantino as capable of bringing the world together, unlike the "lame" candidates who have thrown their hats in the ring so far. That sounds a lot like Trump.

Lastly FIFA, if you read this, please next time kill the halftime show. We don't want BTS and Bieber; we want to watch the game with fewer breaks. The Argentines are far more entertaining than any pop star — on and off the pitch. 

As always, if you have any comments, email me at maria.tadeo@euronews.com.

— Maria Tadeo