Argentina hasn't been doing well in this World Cup. They win, but the victory doesn't erase the poor quality of their play nor their inability to transform favoritism into dominance. Against Cape Verde, they needed extra time to catch their breath. Against Egypt, they only emerged victorious after regaining space where there had previously been fear and disorganization, against well-prepared opponents.

It's necessary to insist on this point because it defines Argentina's journey: the team isn't playing like a superior force. It drags itself along without clarity, without the speed to control the game, and without enough skill to silence its opponents. When it accelerates, it loses precision. When it retreats, it gives away ground. When under pressure, it seems to be crying out for help from the atmosphere and external decisions that appear when the game gets tough.

Messi also became part of this downward spiral. He missed penalties, wasted clear chances, and can no longer hide the cracks in a team burdened by the weight of his name. His genius continues to be treated as inevitable, but the pitch reveals an insecure player, vulnerable to error and incapable of single-handedly saving an Argentina lacking authority when the team falls apart.

Cape Verde and Egypt were not mere African extras at an Argentinian party. They were courageous, fit, well-read, and ambitious opponents. They pressed high up the pitch, contested every ball, forced Argentina to retreat, and revealed that the clearly protected contender bleeds when faced with serious resistance, high pressure, and strong emotional organization, both with and without the ball.

Therefore, every dubious refereeing decision gains impact. When a team plays poorly and still manages to overcome difficult matches with dubious plays, non-existent VAR reviews, and criteria that change depending on which side is harmed, suspicion ceases to be mere fan noise and begins to accompany Argentina's own campaign, always fragile and always favored, game after game, without shame.

VAR should exist to correct clear errors, not to choose when to intervene or not. In Argentina's games, that has been the feeling. When a play could harm the South American team, the broadcast doesn't replay the images, VAR doesn't intervene, and the explanation disappears, leaving the public perplexed about what happened, casting a shadow of unresolved doubt.

The repetition of the pattern is what is infuriating. A disputed offside cannot be dismissed without further explanation. Contact inside the penalty area cannot be treated as a minor detail. A play against an African team cannot receive less transparency than a play in favor of Argentina, as if justice changed speed depending on the jersey number on the same competitive pitch.

In the game against Cape Verde, doubts remained that were never cleared up. In the game against Egypt, the indignation was greater because the African team pushed Argentina to the limit. From that moment on, every silence from VAR seemed heavier than the decision itself, because the problem was no longer just the referees' decision, but their credibility.

If there is an image, it should be shown to clarify any doubts. If there is no offside, the line should be displayed to confirm. If there is contact, it should be reviewed clearly. If the decision is correct, it should withstand a complete replay. Football accepts human error, but it does not accept technology changing sides when the favorite is at risk, favoring them and only punishing the opponent.

Argentina has benefited precisely from this environment. They don't play better than everyone else, they don't stifle anyone, and they don't display football that justifies such an unquestionable lead. Even so, they continue. They continue to suffer, they continue to have an insecure Messi, and they continue to make decisions that always appear at the exact point where the game threatens to slip away and the truth begins to bother them.

The statement made by Gianni Infantino after the Argentina vs. Cape Verde match also raised strong suspicions about favoritism towards Argentina. Leaving the stadium in Miami after the game, the FIFA president warmly greeted Argentina and stated that his heart had suffered that night before correcting himself with a statement of neutrality in front of the cameras and Argentine journalists present.

There's no need to invent a confession to understand the political weight of the gaffe. In a tournament surrounded by controversial decisions, the president of the highest football authority cannot appear emotionally tied to the fate of a national team. Even corrected, the phrase opened a window that many fans already suspected they were seeing through other cracks, at a time of international public pressure.

The problem isn't just the verb used, it's the environment that made it so volatile. If Argentina had crushed Cape Verde, the phrase might have been perceived as a perfunctory gesture of sympathy towards an Argentinian audience. But Argentina faltered, was pushed into extra time, and depended on technical details that remained unexplained, with the stadium still reeling from the shock and turmoil of what had happened.

This slip-up aligns with everything the pitch had already shown. A weak Argentina, an insecure Messi, African teams playing without fear, and a VAR system that seems to lose its voice when the question is uncomfortable. Infantino didn't create the suspicion, but he gave it an institutional image and a phrase that's difficult to erase from the center of the public debate.

His statement isn't conclusive proof, but the coincidence between his words, the public reaction, and the opaque decisions carries weight. When the FIFA president seems to be struggling with a team and a nation, each favorable decision takes on a different tone in the public perception of the entire tournament.

Argentina may win the 2026 World Cup, but they will no longer be able to shake off the shadow that follows them on their journey. The team plays poorly, suffers too much, relies on isolated moments, and finds protection from referees at the exact moment their fragility is exposed. When this incompetence is repeated on the field and this favoritism is repeated off it, the conversation changes.

Cape Verde and Egypt showed that African teams no longer enter these games to applaud favorites. They enter to compete, attack, pressure, and expose big teams when they are vulnerable. What they cannot tolerate is also facing referees who seem to choose what they see and who remain silent when they should punish the favorite.

FIFA may remain silent, but silence doesn't erase the images. If Argentina wins this World Cup, the question will remain: did they win on the field or in a tournament where VAR learned to turn a blind eye?