Under the closed roof of the AT&T Stadium, on a Texas night thick with expectation, Spain did not merely beat France — they dismantled the idea of them. A 2-0 semifinal victory sends La Roja into the World Cup final and leaves one of the tournament favourites staring at the exit, wondering how a match of such billing slipped so quietly from their grasp.

This was not a night of chaos or late lightning. It was a night of control, of a team knowing exactly what it wanted and taking it in two clean, decisive strokes. Mikel Oyarzabal struck first from the penalty spot, Pedro Porro doubled the lead early in the second half, and from there Spain simply closed the door and leaned against it.

France, for all their pedigree, never found the rhythm to force it back open. The occasion demanded a response and it never truly came. By the final whistle the noise belonged entirely to the Spanish supporters, who understood they had watched their side stride into a final looking every inch the best team left standing.

The opening blow

The first act of a semifinal so often sets its tone, and here it did. On 22 minutes Spain won a penalty, and Oyarzabal stepped up with the composure of a man who had rehearsed the moment a thousand times. He sent his left-footed strike arrowing into the top right corner, unstoppable and unanswerable, and the balance of the tie shifted in an instant.

There is a particular cruelty in conceding early in a match you expected to shape. France had come to impose themselves; instead they were chasing before they had properly settled. The goal did not just hand Spain a lead — it handed them the initiative, the confidence, the licence to play on their own terms.

From that point Spain grew into the game with the assurance of a side that trusts its patterns implicitly. They kept the ball, moved France around, and refused to be hurried. The penalty had given them a platform, and they built on it with the calm certainty that has carried them this deep into the tournament.

Porro puts it beyond

If the first goal unsettled France, the second broke them. Thirteen minutes into the second half Dani Olmo threaded a pass that pulled the French backline out of shape, and Pedro Porro arrived in the centre of the box to meet it. His right-footed finish found the bottom right corner, precise and clinical, and the semifinal was as good as decided.

It was a goal that spoke to Spain's method: patient build-up, a clever pass from Olmo, and a runner timed to perfection. Porro's strike carried none of the desperation of a team clinging on and all the conviction of a team knowing it was in charge. Two goals, two moments of quality, and a two-goal cushion that felt like far more.

France now needed two goals against a side that had conceded nothing all evening, and the task looked beyond them almost as soon as the ball hit the net. The tournament's grand names were reduced to probing without penetration, pressing without reward. Spain, meanwhile, managed the game like seasoned professionals, seeing out the minutes with the ball at their feet and the tie in their pocket.

A final in sight

For Spain, this is a night that will be remembered long after the tournament ends. To reach a World Cup final is achievement enough; to do so by beating France with this much authority is a statement of intent. They arrive at the final not as hopeful outsiders but as a team convinced of its own worth, and on this evidence that conviction is entirely earned.

The manner of it matters. There was no fortune here, no late scramble or contentious decision to cloud the picture. Spain led early, extended it, and never once looked like surrendering it. A clean sheet in a World Cup semifinal, against opposition of France's calibre, is the mark of a side ready for the last step.

Everything now points to a single match, ninety minutes from immortality. Spain will walk out for the final believing the trophy is within reach, and few who watched this performance would argue with them. They have the balance, the belief and the ruthlessness that finals demand.

France's reckoning

For France, the inquest begins the moment the disappointment fades. This was a semifinal they will feel they let drift away, undone not by a moment of misfortune but by their own failure to seize the game when it was still there to be seized. The early penalty rattled them, and they never recovered the poise to trouble Spain in return.

A goalless attacking display on this stage is the kind of result that lingers. The talent was on the pitch; the cohesion and cutting edge were not. Against a side as controlled as Spain, France needed to be sharper, braver, quicker to react — and they were beaten in every one of those departments.

So the tournament ends here for them, one step short of the final, with the sting of knowing they were second best on the night. There will be time to dissect what went wrong, but the immediate truth is simple and unforgiving. France came to Dallas chasing glory and leave carrying regret, while Spain march on toward a final they now look thoroughly equipped to win.