It happens in every high-stakes competition. The final whistle blows. The loser blinks first, and out comes the line: “They got lucky.” You’ve heard it in boardrooms, locker rooms, and Twitter threads. It’s the quickest way to protect your ego while sidestepping the uncomfortable truth—your plan was simply outmatched.
Cristiano Ronaldo said it after Portugal’s 1–0 loss to Spain. “A bit of luck,” he called it. But here’s what few people are willing to admit: Luck is what you call preparation when you refuse to see it coming.
Spain didn’t win because a random ball bounced their way. They won because they spent weeks—maybe months—designing a scenario where that bounce was almost certain. And the key piece? Mikel Merino, a midfielder whose job description changes the moment the game gets tight.
In Arsenal, Mikel Arteta has repeatedly pushed Merino from midfield into a makeshift striker when the score is deadlocked. His teammates call him “Mei Chao Feng”—the attacker from the middle. It’s a running inside joke that’s actually dead serious. Merino’s ability to time his runs, read the flight of the ball, and out-jump defenders in the box is so reliable that Arteta treats him as a certified plan B.
When Spain’s coach, Luis de la Fuente, sent Merino on in the 84th minute, every Arsenal fan watching already knew what was coming. He didn’t substitute Merino to hold possession or play cute passes. He sent him to the penalty area as a human battering ram. That’s not luck. That’s a tactical subroutine loaded before the game started.
The irony is that the same people who call that goal lucky also ignore the defensive chess match Spain played. Portugal’s attacking threat relies on midfield runners like Vitinha and creative wingers. Spain choked that game from the start. Look at the first-half stats: Portugal had exactly four touches inside Spain’s penalty area. Four. In 45 minutes. That’s not a coincidence—that’s a coordinated effort to deny Portugal any chance to draw fouls, win penalties, or use their physicality.
Spain knew Portugal had no aerial threat without a natural target man. So they compressed the midfield and squeezed the wingers, forcing Portugal to take low-percentage shots from distance. Every defensive action was aimed at eliminating offensive factors Spain couldn’t control: referee decisions, set pieces, and chaos. You can’t be lucky if you never let the game become random.
Yes, Spain’s goalkeeper Unai Simón had a strong game. And yes, Portugal’s Diogo Costa made a few fine saves. But the margin was never really about individual brilliance. It was about a team that understood the difference between hoping for a win and engineering one.
If you take one thing from this game, ignore the scoreline. Focus on the substitution that decided it. Merino’s goal wasn’t a surprise to anyone who had watched him play this season. The surprise is that Portugal never saw it coming.
Blaming luck is the shortcut to staying mediocre. The next time you lose a close game, a pitch, or a negotiation, don’t reach for the ‘we were unlucky’ excuse. Ask yourself: Did I prepare to win in the final ten minutes? Did I have a Merino on my bench? Or did I just hope my opponent would miss?
Because in the end, the scoreboard doesn’t care about your excuses. It only cares about the shot that you planned all along.
FAQ
Q: Wasn't there some luck involved in the goal? The ball could have been cleared, or Merino could have missed.
A: There is always a probabilistic element in any athletic move, but calling it 'luck' ignores that Spain set up the exact conditions for that opportunity to arise. Merino's substitution was a pre-planned tactical move based on his known strength. That's preparation, not chance.
Q: What's the practical takeaway for someone who doesn't play soccer?
A: In any competitive field—business, sales, even relationships—the people who consistently win aren't the ones who got lucky. They're the ones who identified a specific advantage (a skill, a resource, a timing) and built a strategy around exploiting it in the critical moment.
Q: Isn't it possible that Portugal just had an off day and Spain was a bit fortunate with the referee's non-calls?
A: That's exactly the kind of rationalization the article warns against. Spain deliberately avoided entering penalty-box scrambles that could invite subjective referee decisions. They statistically suppressed Portugal's chances. An 'off day' usually happens because the opponent made you have it.