When the Ball Loses… and the Conspiracy Wins

Bouchaib El Bazi

Some matches do not end with the referee’s final whistle. Instead, they begin afterward — not on the pitch, but in press conferences and social media timelines. Egypt’s exit from the semi-finals of the 2025 Africa Cup of Nations was one such case. For while the scoreline settled the sporting debate, the post-match narrative opened a very different contest.

Hossam Hassan, head coach of the Egyptian national team, chose not to dissect tactical shortcomings or acknowledge the opponent’s superiority. Instead, he offered a more familiar explanation: Egypt, he suggested, is simply too big, too historic, too successful — and therefore the object of jealousy. Others, according to this logic, did not want the “Pharaohs” to reach the final.

It was a remarkable shift from football analysis to psychological diagnosis.

History as a Substitute for Strategy

No serious observer disputes Egypt’s footballing legacy or its seven continental titles. But problems arise when history is used not as a foundation for progress, but as a shield against accountability. Trophies won years ago do not press high, create chances, or prevent late goals.

Modern football is unforgivingly present-tense. It does not reward nostalgia, nor does it grant automatic qualification based on past glory. And yet, Egypt’s elimination was framed not in terms of performance — one shot on target in over 100 minutes — but as the result of unseen forces allegedly unsettled by Egypt’s greatness.

At that point, football stopped being football.

Morocco, the Convenient Suspect

More troubling was the subtle expansion of blame beyond the pitch. The suggestion that unnamed actors wished to block Egypt’s path inevitably touched sensitive ground, especially given that the tournament was hosted by Morocco — a host widely praised for exemplary organization, infrastructure, and hospitality.

The irony was striking. Moroccan fans were among the most respectful toward the Egyptian team throughout the competition, a fact later acknowledged by Egyptian officials themselves. Yet insinuation proved easier than introspection.

When the Media Apologizes — and the Coach Does Not

As criticism mounted, it was not the coach but Egyptian media figures who stepped in to contain the damage. Prominent broadcaster Mai Helmy issued a clear public apology to Moroccan audiences, stressing that Hassan’s remarks reflected only his personal views, not those of Egypt’s people or footballing institutions.

Her intervention did not weaken Egypt’s image; it restored balance to it.

Moroccan artist Chaimaa Abdelaziz echoed the sentiment by emphasizing the awareness and fairness of Egyptian fans — a reminder that public intelligence often exceeds that of post-defeat rhetoric.

The Egyptian FA Chooses Diplomacy Over Drama

Away from the microphones, the Egyptian Football Association took a more measured approach. Its official congratulatory letter to Fouzi Lekjaa, president of Morocco’s football federation, was not mere protocol. It was a deliberate correction.

The message praised Morocco’s outstanding organization, calling it a model for African football and a source of pride for the entire Arab sporting world. It thanked Moroccan authorities and fans for their hospitality and acknowledged the professionalism that defined the tournament.

In a few paragraphs, the federation accomplished what the coach’s press conference could not: respect, restraint, and realism.

The Real Defeat Is Not Losing — It’s Explaining Poorly

There is no shame in losing a semi-final. Football history is built on defeats as much as triumphs. The real problem arises when loss is reframed as injustice, and self-criticism is replaced by grievance.

Egypt exited the tournament, but it also revealed something else: a divide between emotional reaction and institutional maturity. Many voices inside Egypt made clear that true greatness lies not in invoking past glory, but in accepting present reality.

As for Hossam Hassan, he may have lost more than a match. He lost an opportunity — to lead by example, to dignify defeat, and to remind everyone that in football, as in life, imaginary enemies are the poorest explanation for very real shortcomings.

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