How the Chile National Football Team Can Overcome Its Recent Challenges

Let’s be honest, watching La Roja these past few years has been tough for those of us who remember the golden era. The back-to-back Copa América triumphs in 2015 and 2016 feel like a lifetime ago, replaced by a cycle of underwhelming qualifiers and a painful absence from the last World Cup. As someone who’s followed this team for decades, I’ve been wrestling with a simple question: how does a team that once played with such ferocious identity and unity find its way back? The challenges are multifaceted—an aging golden generation, inconsistent results, and the immense pressure of rebuilding in the shadow of past glory. But in that very pressure, I believe, lies the key. The path forward isn't about discovering a magic tactical formula overnight; it’s about rediscovering a core mentality, something embodied in a quote from a different sport that has always stuck with me. I recall hearing basketball star Damian Lillard once say, “At the end of the day, just coming out and competing, giving it all that I can. That usually takes over anything else. Just playing to compete and playing to win.” That ethos, that raw, uncompromising will to compete, is precisely what Chile needs to harness again.

For years, Chile’s identity was its non-negotiable intensity. Under Marcelo Bielsa and later Jorge Sampaoli, they weren’t always the most technically gifted, but they were arguably the fittest and most aggressive team on the continent, pressing opponents into mistakes with a coordinated fury. That system elevated players like Arturo Vidal, Alexis Sánchez, and Gary Medel to world-class status. The problem, as we’ve seen, is that systems built on extreme physical output have a shelf life. Vidal and Sánchez, while still capable of moments of brilliance, are 37 and 35 respectively. Relying on them to be the engine for 90 minutes, match after match, in modern football is simply unsustainable. The data from their recent qualifiers is telling; for instance, their average team distance covered has dropped by nearly 8% compared to the 2014 World Cup cycle, and the high-intensity sprints have fallen by an even more dramatic margin, something like 15%. The first step in overcoming this challenge is a pragmatic, and perhaps sentimental, one: managing the transition from these legends with respect while being brutally honest about their current roles. They should be mentors and impact substitutes, not week-in, week-out starters. This is painful, but necessary.

This leads directly to the second, and more critical, pillar: forging a new core. Players like Víctor Dávila, Marcelino Núñez, and the emerging star from my own club observations, Darío Osorio, must be given the keys. The integration hasn’t been smooth. There’s a visible disconnect sometimes, a hesitation where there used to be instinct. The coaching carousel—we’ve seen, what, four managers since 2022?—hasn’t helped. Each new boss brings a new system, stifling the development of chemistry. What Chile needs now is stability and a clear tactical identity that plays to the strengths of this new group. Maybe it’s not the full-blown juego de locura of old, but a modified, sustainable press that focuses on winning the ball in specific zones. The federation must commit to a project, even through rough patches. I’d argue for a focus on solidifying the defense first; conceding an average of 1.4 goals per game in the last qualifying cycle is a recipe for failure. Build from a base of being hard to beat.

And this is where Lillard’s words resonate most deeply for me. Tactics and talent are crucial, but they are frameworks. The soul of a team is its competitive character. The great Chilean sides didn’t just execute a game plan; they imposed their will. They played with a chip on their shoulder, a collective anger that fueled them. That’s been missing. You can see it in body language, in the way they sometimes shrink after conceding first. Reinstilling that “play to compete and play to win” mentality is the intangible job of the leaders, both old and new. It’s about creating an environment where every training session is a battle, where putting on the shirt comes with an obligation to leave everything on the pitch. Alexis, for all his dip in pace, still has that fire. It’s his job, and Vidal’s, to transmit that not through speeches alone, but through daily example to the Núñezs and Osorios. This cultural reboot is more important than any single match result right now.

So, can they overcome these challenges? My heart says yes, but my analyst’s mind says it will be a longer road than many fans want. The solution is a trilogy: a respectful but firm transition from the old guard, a patient and stable project built around a new tactical identity for the emerging talents, and above all, a relentless focus on rebuilding that infamous Chilean garra. It won’t happen by the next international break. It might take the entirety of this World Cup qualifying cycle, which has them currently sitting in a precarious 7th place with just 7 points from 8 games. But if they can anchor themselves to the simple idea of competing first—truly, madly, deeply competing for every single ball—the results will follow. The glory days may look different in the future, perhaps less about overwhelming blitzes and more about strategic grit, but the heart of La Roja can beat just as strong. It starts not with a flashy new superstar, but with a reclaimed identity, one hard challenge at a time.