Germany and the Netherlands were both dumped out of the World Cup on penalties on the same night, by Paraguay and Morocco. They are not the first big names to buckle at this tournament, and they will not be the last. The rest of football has closed the distance to the top. 

Neither Germany nor the Netherlands actually lost on Monday. Germany, four-time World Champions, drew 1-1 with Paraguay and went out from the spot. The Netherlands, three-time finalists still chasing a maiden World Cup title, drew 1-1 with Morocco and succumbed to the same fate. Two of the game’s most iconic nations, gone inside a single afternoon and evening, one beaten by a team that crept into the knockouts seventh of eight third-place qualifiers, the other by a nation that has spent a decade muscling its way into the elite. A short flight north, Brazil were trailing Japan with the clock winding down and were spared only by Gabriel Martinelli’s winner in stoppage time.

None of it should have surprised anyone who sat through the group stage. Spain, the European champions, were stonewalled to a goalless draw by Cape Verde, a volcanic speck in the Atlantic of half a million people making its World Cup debut. England had nineteen shots at Ghana and could not find a way past them. Portugal were held to a draw by the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Belgium were pegged back by Iran and by Egypt. Uruguay, twice champions of the world, did not get out of the group at all.

Defending is the most coachable thing in football, and right now it is the fashion. The club game led the way. Premier League champions Arsenal built their rise on the meanest defence in England and a set-piece routine other sides came to dread, and the rest of Europe took the hint.

International football only sharpens the effect. National teams assemble for a week or two, not a whole season, and in that time a back line’s shape and a corner routine can be drilled to perfection while a fluent attack cannot. So underdogs lean on defence: sit deep, stay compact, guard the box, break at speed or drag the favourite to penalties. Morocco rode that plan to the semi-finals four years ago. On Monday they rode it past the Dutch. Space is the scarce thing, and packed defences have stopped giving it away. England had nineteen shots at Ghana and scored none. A wall does not need the ball. It needs eleven men who know where to stand.

The smaller nations have players who train every day at the biggest clubs on earth and carry that schooling home. The quality gap that once settled these games before kick-off has all but closed. Morocco alone field Achraf Hakimi at Paris Saint-Germain, Brahim Díaz at Real Madrid, and Noussair Mazraoui at Manchester United. The DRC’s Yoane Wissa is a Premier League-proven forward. Ecuador’s Moisés Caicedo anchors Chelsea’s midfield. Uzbekistan blooded Manchester City’s Abdukodir Khusanov. These are not part-timers – they are elite professionals who happen to wear an underdog’s shirt.

The tournament rewards them, too. The bloated forty-eight-team format waves through hardened third-place sides; Paraguay, who buried Germany, sneaked in seventh out of the eight best-placed teams that finished third in the groups. The summer heat drains the pressing favourite faster than the team sitting deep. And when normal time settles nothing, it goes to penalties, a coin toss that erases every edge. Two of the first four knockout games reached a shootout. Both ended in an upset.

None of this is the death of the elite. France strolled through their group without dropping a point, Argentina did the same with Lionel Messi turning back the clock, and Brazil are still breathing. The hierarchy is real. It is just thinner than it has ever been, and the rankings flatter it. The cushion that once carried a favourite through a quiet night is gone. Be ruthless now or go home, and too many of the big names no longer are.

South Africa employed the same tactics. For ninety minutes against Canada they were compact and defensively resilient without offering much going forward. The very forces that nearly gave Bafana a glimmer of hope are now dragging the giants under. While the aristocracy of world football still stands, it has just never been so easy for David to take down Goliath.