DOHA, Qatar—The recent World Cup winners’ curse seems like something that was tailor-made for France.
This is a country whose national teams are immensely gifted, but which has experienced as much epic, soap-opera style failure as memorable success. Les Bleus always seem to be dribbling along that razor thin barrier between legend and ignominy. And it’s a program that has a habit of tempting fate, pushing the locker room chemistry envelope in order to take full advantage of its outrageous conveyor belt of talent. France doesn’t need additional sources of bad mojo.
Since Brazil returned to the 1998 final after lifting the trophy at the Rose Bowl (only to get crushed by France), World Cup holders have found their credentials irrelevant four years later.