Stargazing: Inside the…

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. — On Sunday evening, a remarkable event unfolded in New Jersey as Spain proudly added a second star to their red jerseys. However, the 48 hours leading up to the FIFA World Cup final were filled with an atmosphere charged with anticipation for La Roja.

The experience began on Friday afternoon in Midtown Manhattan, where Spain’s captain Rodri looked out over the Hudson River from the venue for the prematch news conferences. We had informed him that this very spot was just a couple of hundred meters from where US Airways Flight 1549 was heroically landed by Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger after a bird strike resulted in engine failure, fortunately saving all on board.

From Room 504 in the Javits Center, with its impressive 70-foot-tall windows offering views of the Hudson, Rodri stood in amazement, pondering how no lives had been lost during such a perilous incident in the middle of winter.

After a captivating interview displaying his clarity and intensity, Rodri, flanked by a police escort, headed back to Montclair, New Jersey. Meanwhile, the coach was taking to the skies for a different kind of journey.

Having been celebrated by the likes of Novak Djokovic and Kevin Hart and warmly welcomed by Lionel Messi, coach Luis de la Fuente, along with his close team including UEFA Champions League winner Aitor Karanka from Real Madrid, took a helicopter to Newark, en route to their temporary headquarters. De la Fuente soaked in the stunning views, filled with the same awe as Rodri had felt looking at the Hudson, particularly after a week where the skies had been hazy due to wildfires in Canada, but now were clear and sunny.

A memorable encounter occurred when, as the Spain staff exited the chopper, they were greeted by legendary athlete Tom Brady. Although he had arrived on an earlier flight, Brady wanted to impart his well-wishes to De la Fuente, saying, “Good luck, man. Go f— them up!”

Saturday brought a different atmosphere. The heavens that would shine on Spain the next day unleashed wild weather patterns that complicated their preparations.

As they departed their hotel on crowded Bloomfield Street, there were joyous shouts, requests for autographs, and cheers of “Viva España,” accompanied by police cars. The skies above were grey but still manageable. However, upon reaching the Red Bull New York training facility about 20 minutes away in East Hanover, the threatening atmosphere hinted at worse to come.

As media representatives were permitted onto the pitches to set up behind metal barriers, local security rushed in forcefully, insisting that everyone return to the safety of the building that had served as a holding area for the hundreds of journalists present. One particularly proactive security staff member struggled to comprehend why people weren’t hastily seeking shelter as he warned that severe thunderstorms and lightning were imminent, triggering a U.S. safety protocol.

A standoff ensued; while the media complied and retreated, the players intended to train—out of the question for them to miss such a vital session. However, understanding the circumstances, they reluctantly yielded to the security staff and police.

Yet, true to form, a sense of rebellion grew among the players. Their passion for the opportunity to become world champions was palpable—after devoting their lives to this sport, the urgency to train overshadowed the weather warnings.

As we sheltered from a leak in the sheltering room, some of De la Fuente’s players moved toward the tunnel that led from the locker rooms to the field, only to be met with two blinding bolts of lightning, sending everyone scrambling back in alarm—a reaction that foreshadowed what was to come the following night at MetLife Stadium.

At that moment, the decision was clear: training would be canceled.

The rest of the day unfolded in a couple of ways. Many players gathered in a third-floor hotel suite that had been transformed into a grooming space, prepping their hairstyles and facial hair for the main event while watching the chaotic third-place match between England and France. Later, as I enjoyed a couple of pints of Guinness with my outstanding Australian cameraman, the rooftop bar buzzed with players and their families, who were enjoying the atmosphere. While the players abstained from alcohol, the environment was lively and cheerful—a perfect prelude to the night ahead.

Finally, after contending with Argentina’s controversial style of play, the atmosphere in the locker room echoed what I experienced during Spain’s victories in the 2010 World Cup and Euro 2012. The joy was palpable, but so was the realization that this was for their families and what they had come to achieve. Spain’s new status as two-time world champions felt like a natural progression. During an interview on the pitch, Ferran Torres expressed his sentiments about scoring, saying, “I just hit it with all the power of the Spanish people.”

Ferran, along with Marcos Llorente and Marc Pubill, had embraced the role of the enthusiastic “sunshine boys,” waking early to catch the sunrise wherever they traveled—be it Chattanooga, Atlanta, Guadalajara, Dallas, Los Angeles, or Montclair—making the most of every opportunity to soak up the sun. When the time came for Ferran, he was ready, just as Cesc Fabregas had been in 2010 when he provided the winning assist after limited playtime.

Pedri celebrated with a cheeky tongue-out gesture upon spotting me near the center circle, while Gavi proudly showed off his medal. The team doctor, a familiar figure I’ve known for 18 years, shared a heartfelt embrace with me, our emotions overflowing. Then came the exuberant Borja Iglesias, jumping with excitement, exclaiming, “Graham, you’re Spanish, you’ve got two stars … you’re the ‘p— amo‘ [f—ing boss]!”

The celebration concluded with a trip back to Newark as they soared high, heading toward the stars they now wear on their jerseys, amidst the jubilant festivities that awaited them in Madrid. Campeones del mundo—indeed! They are a group of fun-loving, engaging, passionate individuals. Being part of their journey, even for a brief moment, is a highlight of my career.