The Mbappé Enigma: When Does ‘Finally’ Winning Matter?
There’s something almost poetic about the way Stephen A. Smith framed Kylian Mbappé and France’s World Cup journey. “Could this be the year they finally get it done?” he mused on First Take. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is the word finally. It implies a desperation, a narrative of redemption that, frankly, doesn’t quite fit. France won the World Cup in 2018—with Mbappé on the roster, no less. So, why does the discourse act like they’re perennial underdogs?
The Myth of the Underdog Champion
One thing that immediately stands out is how quickly we forget recent history. France isn’t some long-suffering team chasing a dream; they’re defending champions who stumbled in 2022. Yet, Smith’s commentary—and much of the media’s—treats their quest like a decades-long drought. What this really suggests is how narratives in sports often overwrite facts. We love the story of the comeback, the hero rising from the ashes, even when the ashes are barely cold.
From my perspective, this isn’t just about France or Mbappé. It’s about how we consume sports. We’re so hungry for drama that we’ll rewrite history to create it. Mbappé’s hat-trick in the 2022 final loss to Argentina was legendary, but it’s not a stain on his legacy—it’s a highlight. What many people don’t realize is that even in defeat, he cemented his status as a generational talent. So, why does the conversation always pivot to “finally” winning?
The Mbappé Factor: Talent vs. Narrative
Here’s where it gets interesting: Mbappé doesn’t need a World Cup win to prove himself. He’s already one of the best players in the world. But the narrative machine demands a climax, a moment where he “redeems” himself. If you take a step back and think about it, this obsession with redemption is more about us—the viewers, the commentators—than it is about him. We want closure, even when the athlete doesn’t need it.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Smith tried to flex his soccer knowledge by mentioning Mbappé’s 2022 hat-trick. It backfired, of course, because it highlighted a gap in his understanding. But here’s the thing: it’s okay not to be an expert. What this really suggests is that the growth of soccer in the U.S. isn’t just about coverage—it’s about humility. Smith could have leaned on Roger Bennett’s expertise instead of pretending to know it all. That, to me, is the bigger missed opportunity.
The Broader Implications: Soccer’s American Moment
This raises a deeper question: How do we grow the sport in a country where it’s still finding its footing? Smith’s commentary, flawed as it was, is part of the answer. Soccer doesn’t need pundits to be perfect; it needs them to be curious. Taylor Twellman once said that having Smith buy into soccer is crucial, and I agree. But buying in doesn’t mean pretending to know everything—it means asking questions, admitting gaps, and letting the experts shine.
In my opinion, the real win here isn’t whether France lifts the trophy again. It’s whether moments like this normalize soccer in the U.S. discourse. Smith’s gaffe wasn’t a failure; it was a conversation starter. And that, to me, is what matters most.
Final Thoughts: The Power of Imperfect Commentary
If there’s one takeaway, it’s this: sports commentary doesn’t have to be flawless to be impactful. Smith’s misstep wasn’t about forgetting France’s 2018 win—it was about trying to fit a complex story into a neat narrative. Personally, I think that’s something we’re all guilty of. We want heroes, underdogs, and redemption arcs because they’re easier to digest than the messy reality of sports.
So, will France win this World Cup? Maybe. Will Mbappé dominate? Probably. But the real question is: Can we let go of the finally and just enjoy the ride? Because, in the end, that’s what sports are about—not the narratives we impose, but the moments that defy them.
