Your World Cup,
your predictions.

The final had reached penalties without a goal scored. Then Roberto Baggio stepped forward needing to score to keep Italy alive. Ponytail, exhaustion, the weight of an entire tournament on one strike. The ball sailed high over the crossbar and Baggio stood alone beneath the California sky, hands on hips, staring forward. One of football's most enduring images — not failure exactly, more the loneliness attached to elite sport.

At 38, Roger Milla was supposed to be winding down, not changing perceptions of an entire continent's football. Cameroon became the first African side to reach a World Cup quarter-final and Milla became the face of it — scoring, sprinting to the corner flag, hips swaying in celebration each time. The dance mattered because the football matched it. Joyful, fearless, impossible to ignore.