Cristiano Ronaldo could have left the World Cup stage as a hero who understood his place, and who understood what everyone already knows: Soccer is a team sport. Instead, he chose another carefully staged farewell performance, polished like a sponsored Instagram post.
It was hardly surprising that none of his teammates approached him to console him.
Ronaldo played his 27th World Cup match on Monday night, and it was probably his last appearance in the tournament. Probably, although with Ronaldo, one can never be completely sure.
His historic achievement is clear: He is the only player to score in six different World Cups. He is also the first player in history to score at least 25 goals across World Cups and European Championships, the oldest player to score in the knockout stage of a World Cup, and, of course, Portugal’s all-time leading scorer at the tournament.
He also left with another statistic: Since detailed World Cup records began in 1966, no player had taken more shots in a single tournament without creating a single scoring chance for a teammate.
Not the farewell Ronaldo wanted
That statistic says a great deal about the event known as Cristiano Ronaldo at the 2026 World Cup. As the camera followed him after the final whistle against Spain, none of his teammates came over to hug him.
This was not the farewell he wanted.
The pre-match press conference, ahead of what was the most important game of many of his teammates’ careers, was largely spent settling scores with journalists who had irritated him by criticizing his conduct. Before Portugal’s biggest match of the next two years, the story was once again its aging striker.
Look, you cannot say anything critical about Cristiano Ronaldo on the Internet. Certainly not in Portugal.
But he could have given his national team so much more at this World Cup had he overcome himself and understood that he is no longer a 90-minute player in modern soccer. He would have emerged as a truly great figure had he asked the coach to use him as an impact substitute. His ego would never have allowed him to make that decision. Portugal needed it from him.
But Ronaldo and his ego mattered to him more than Portugal. So it did not happen.
And, of course, his exit from the stage was beautifully choreographed. Like another sponsored Instagram post. A slow walk off the pitch. Tears in his eyes. A slow walk toward the dressing room. Head down. Sadness on cue. No one touched his hair, naturally. No one shielded him from the cameras with a friendly embrace.
The cult of personality could not stop there.
On Sunday, Brazilian forward Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior, known globally as Neymar, tried to steal the show during Brazil’s earliest World Cup elimination since 1966. After scoring a penalty two minutes after added time had expired, with Brazil trailing Norway 2-0, he exchanged words with the Norwegian goalkeeper.
Then Neymar collapsed onto the grass and cried in front of the cameras, making sure the moment centered on his pain rather than Norway’s victory or, worse from his perspective, Vinícius Júnior.
It was uncomfortable to watch.
Instagram individuals celebrated, teammates left on the backburners
In today’s media climate, where the individualists with the most Instagram likes are celebrated, the players who know how to play that game best are the ones who generate most of the headlines, set the narratives, and force the world to talk about them.
The players who know how to connect with their teammates, who know how to work within a team, who make those around them better, are left to the soccer nerds. The obsessives who care about data, movement, structure, and numbers.
That is exhausting.
Soccer is a team sport. At the World Cup, these teams represent millions of people. A national hero, however great he may be, is still a servant of a team and of a nation. He is not the main story. When he turns himself into the main story, it usually comes at the expense of his team and his country.
Enough with the cult of personality.