After defeating France 2-0 in Tuesday's semifinal, Spain is heading to the World Cup final, with the chance to lift soccer's greatest trophy for only the second time in the country's history. Yet amid all the analysis of tactics, talent, and the extraordinary young players who have carried the team through the tournament, another thread has quietly emerged: faith.
This is not the sort of faith that promises victory, as Spain's Catholic coach Luis de la Fuente has been very clear to point out. Rather, it is a source of strength when millions are watching and the pressure could quite easily make the rest of us hide under a very large blanket. As de la Fuente said in a recent interview with the website El Resurgir de Madrid, as reported in The Crux:
“I am a Catholic, I love it, it gives me a lot of strength, it gives me a lot of confidence. It has allowed me to be the person I am today.”
“It's faith”
Anyone watching de la Fuente on the sidelines may have noticed him making the Sign of the Cross before a match. When asked whether the gesture was a superstition, his answer was wonderfully straightforward: “I have faith.”
He has previously explained that prayer is part of his everyday life rather than a ritual pulled out for a World Cup semifinal or a particularly alarming penalty shootout. “I'm not superstitious at all. I pray every day,” he has said. “If I pray today and tomorrow, it's because I've been doing it for a long time.”
The distinction is one many Catholics will recognize. Sport is filled with lucky socks, fixed routines, and fans who remain in precisely the same chair because moving three inches to the left might clearly affect events on a soccer field thousands of miles away. The devout coach's Sign of the Cross comes from somewhere very different. As he has said himself, “It is not superstition, it is faith.”
And the Spanish coach is not the only member of the team carrying his faith with him through this World Cup.
A Cross and the Virgin Mary
Instagram has also shared how Spain forward Ferran Torres recently spoke about two objects he keeps close: a Cross and an image of the Virgin Mary. “They give me so much faith,” he said.
Perhaps the simplicity of the remark is what makes it so familiar. There is no long explanation or attempt to turn faith into a sporting formula, just two Catholic images that offer him something to hold onto. For anyone who has ever slipped a rosary into a pocket before a difficult day, worn a medal beneath a shirt, or kept a holy card tucked somewhere rather battered in a wallet, the instinct is instantly recognizable.
The Cross and Our Lady do not promise Torres a goal, just as de la Fuente's prayers do not guarantee Spain a trophy. Faith does not work like that. Yet it can remind us who we are when the noise around us becomes deafening, offering strength, confidence, and something far bigger than the moment directly in front of us.
Faith under the floodlights
De la Fuente has expressed surprise that people stop him in the street to thank him for speaking openly about being Catholic. “But I also want to be included, and we Catholics want to be there,” he said recently, while defending the freedom of people of different beliefs and ideologies.
Perhaps that explains why his words, and those of Torres, have resonated. Neither man is preaching from the soccer field or suggesting that God is particularly invested in Spain's chances of lifting the trophy. They are simply allowing faith to be visible as part of who they are.
Now, as Spain prepares for the World Cup final, millions of people will be watching. When de la Fuente makes the Sign of the Cross on the sidelines and Torres takes to the field with a Cross and the Virgin Mary close to him, plenty of Catholics will recognize those gestures immediately.
And perhaps, amid the roar of a World Cup final, there is something rather powerful about faith not needing to shout to be seen.
