That night, countless French fans lay awake till dawn, too stimulated to sleep after their team's blazing start to the tournament.
The lights of Porto Alegre spilled through the hotel room's floor-to-ceiling windows, scattering into broken patterns of shadow and glow.
Julien finished washing up and began working through the messages on his phone, one by one.
As for the missed calls, there was no way to return every single one—a text would have to do.
Just then, his phone suddenly rang. On the screen, a name flashed: "Kevin."
A flicker of amusement appeared across Julien's eyes. He picked up immediately. "Kevin, why are you still up so late?"
On the other end, De Bruyne said, "Julien, you were absolutely wild tonight! I just watched the replay of your match—6-0 over Honduras, and you even pulled off a hat-trick! What a perfect World Cup debut. Had to call and congratulate you properly!"
Julien laughed and scratched his head. "Ha, thanks. Their defence was wide open tonight—I just did what I was supposed to do.
By the way, I caught your match too. 2-1, coming from behind against Algeria—that was a good result."
Most of the French squad were young players, playing in their first World Cup.
Belgium, as it happened, was much the same.
All young.
Belgium—nicknamed Europe's new aristocracy—was the tournament's widely acknowledged dark horse, its three lines were stacked with stars and most of them were starters in Europe's top five leagues.
Nobody doubted their quality anymore.
In European World Cup qualifying, they'd gone unbeaten with eight wins and two draws, scoring eighteen goals against only four conceded, clinching top spot in their group with a match to spare—the first time Belgium had reached the World Cup finals since Korea/Japan 2002.
The dazzling record had people marvelling: the Red Devils of old were back.
Their opponents, Algeria, were making their second consecutive World Cup finals appearance.
Talk of Belgium's comeback made De Bruyne laugh.
"The first half was way too passive—we went down 0-1 at one point. But we didn't give up, and in the second half we adjusted the tactics and slowly found our rhythm again.
Getting that win was a whole-squad effort. Compared to you, though, we're nothing—that hat-trick of yours went straight to World Cup headlines. Not bad at all for the heart of Liverpool!"
"Don't tease me, Kevin." Julien laughed. "Everyone pushed hard together. If we could meet in the final, that would be even better."
Of course—that was just Julien's own wishful thinking.
Belgium had Hazard, De Bruyne, Lukaku, Courtois, Kompany, and more—but even so, they weren't quite ready to reach a final yet.
The golden generation hadn't broken through yet.
De Bruyne chuckled but didn't push the thought further. Instead, he said, "Honestly, seeing what you did tonight made me so happy for you. We've fought side by side for so long, and I've always known your talent—now you've gone and proved it on the World Cup stage. Incredible. There's still the group stage to come, though—keep your form up, and take care of yourself. Don't get hurt."
"Don't worry, I will." Julien nodded. "You too, Kevin."
The two exchanged a few more chitchats before hanging up.
Julien looked at his phone and smiled to himself.
He hoped that this World Cup would be one his old Liverpool teammates could all be satisfied with.
The night passed without incident.
The next day, the whole French squad threw themselves back into preparation.
The opening win hadn't left them basking in the glow of victory—one win meant nothing; only winning to the very end counted as winning.
Time slipped away in training.
Meanwhile—from June 12th to June 18th, the first round of group-stage matches at the Brazil World Cup came to a close.
As the opening act of the tournament, the first round delivered plenty of highlights: fierce clashes between powerhouses, stunning upsets by underdogs, thumping routs, and heart-stopping comebacks. Draws were few and far between.
Goals flowed freely throughout the opening round.
It set the tone for a tournament brimming with fire and passion, and began to sketch out, in rough outline, how each group's qualification picture might unfold.
Group A.
As hosts, Brazil faced Croatia in the opener and came from behind to win 3-1, thanks to two goals from Neymar and a stoppage-time strike from Oscar—though Marcelo's own goal, the tournament's first, gave the opening match its share of drama.
In the group's other fixture, Mexico edged Cameroon 1-0 on a goal from Dos Santos, seizing the initiative in the race for qualification—though two more Mexican goals were controversially disallowed, making it one of the round's biggest talking points.
Group B.
The first round brought a rematch at the very top: the previous tournament's finalists, Spain and the Netherlands, collided head-on. The Dutch destroyed Spain 5-1—Van Persie's diving header, two brilliant goals from Robben—shattering Spain's six-year reign, with a costly blunder from Casillas the turning point of the match.
In the group's other match, Chile beat Australia 3-1 on goals from Vargas and Sánchez, matching the Netherlands on three points and jointly leading the group, while Spain found itself staring at an early qualification crisis.
Group C.
Colombia showed impressive strength, thrashing Greece 3-0 behind a goal from Rodríguez and a Greek own goal, opening their campaign in style.
Côte d'Ivoire, meanwhile, ground out a tight 2-1 comeback win over Japan on goals from Gervinho and Yaya Touré—the two sides level on three points, with Greece and Japan trailing for now.
Group D.
As the most feared "group of death," it produced the round's biggest shock.
Uruguay, fourth-place finishers at the last World Cup, took the lead through a Cavani penalty—only to concede three unanswered goals in the second half and lose 1-3 to Costa Rica, who claimed their first World Cup match win in twelve years. Campbell, Duarte, and Urena all found the net, smashing the outside world's assumptions that Costa Rica were minnows.
In the round's other heavyweight clash, Italy beat England 2-1 thanks to a Balotelli header, with Pirlo's pinpoint pass proving the decisive moment; England were left on the back foot.
Group E.
Switzerland struck at the death, winning 2-1 over Ecuador on a late Seferović goal.
They now sit level on three points with France—and next round, the two sides will meet head-on, a match that will decide who tops the group early.
Group F.
Argentina beat Bosnia and Herzegovina 2-1, aided by a Bosnian own goal and a fine strike from Messi, who scored at a World Cup for the first time in eight years.
Iran and Nigeria fought a defensive stalemate, finishing 0-0—the round's second draw, and the tournament's first.
Group G.
The first round produced another clash of giants: Germany crushed Portugal 4-0, with Müller completing the tournament's second hat-trick—the first belonging to Julien—followed by a headed goal from Hummels. Portugal, already reduced to ten men after Pepe was sent off in the first half, were dealt further blows as Coentrão and Almeida both left the pitch injured.
In the group's other match, the United States beat Ghana 2-1 thanks to a lightning-fast Dempsey goal thirty seconds in—the second-fastest opening goal in World Cup history.
Group H.
Belgium opened their World Cup campaign with a 2-1 comeback win over Algeria on goals from Fellaini and Mertens, De Bruyne pulling the strings at the heart of the team and laying the foundation for the turnaround.
Russia and South Korea fought out a grinding 1-1 draw, each side taking a single point, leaving plenty of suspense for the qualification race to come.
Taken as a whole, the first round of the 2014 World Cup delivered highlights in abundance.
Müller and Julien both scored hat-tricks becoming the two brightest stars of the round.
The Netherlands' 5-1 demolition of Spain and Costa Rica's 3-1 comeback over Uruguay shattered the pre-tournament pecking order.
The introduction of goal-line technology cut down on controversial calls, though a handful of misjudged decisions still sparked heated debate.
After the first round, the Netherlands, Germany, France, Belgium, and other powerhouses had seized the advantage on the strength of big wins, while traditional heavyweights like Spain, England, and Uruguay found themselves on the back foot—leaving every group's qualification picture wide open with twists still to come.
With the second round approaching, plenty of teams would need to give everything they had.
The 19th.
The entire French squad travelled to Salvador, in Brazil's Bahia state, where at the Fonte Nova Arena they would meet Switzerland tomorrow night in the battle for first place in the group.
With the first round of group play complete, France sat on top of the table after their 6-0 rout.
That day, Deschamps delivered his final address.
"Same as I always say—forget the win from round one. From this moment on, we have to put down the glow of victory completely and throw everything we have into round two, because in round two, we have to win. We have to fight all-out for it and take first place in the group."
Deschamps paused, then went further into what fighting for round two and the group's top spot actually meant.
"You all know—there are only three group matches. Where we finish in the group decides who we face in the knockout rounds. If we can take first place in the group, we avoid Argentina in the knockouts.
They've got Messi, a world-class star, and a squad stacked with talent. Meeting them too early would be a brutal fight for us.
On the other hand, if we let our guard down and fail to take first place, everything ahead of us only gets harder. All the effort we've put in could go to waste."
Then Deschamps turned again to Switzerland.
"Switzerland is absolutely not a team to take lightly.
Over six years, under the careful hand of old coach Hitzfeld, this side has transformed completely. Inler, Shaqiri, Behrami, and the rest of the core have matured, their chemistry has only grown sharper, and every one of them is at the peak of their individual form.
More than that—their back line has a strongman in Lichtsteiner, a rock at the back, hard-nosed in his style. We need to pay very close attention to this."
Deschamps went on, "In World Cup qualifying, Switzerland's record was outstanding—seven wins and three draws across ten group matches, unbeaten, seventeen goals scored against just six conceded. Excellent on both ends of the pitch.
Going into this World Cup, they sit eighth in the FIFA rankings—the seeded team in our Group E, well above Honduras in class.
And don't forget—four years ago at the South Africa World Cup, Switzerland already pulled off a miracle once.
They upset Spain, the reigning World Cup champions at the time, in the group stage—the only team in that entire tournament to beat Spain. That alone tells you how resilient, how explosive they can be.
And in their opening match of this World Cup, the Swiss won it with a stoppage-time strike, coming from behind to beat Ecuador 2-1—a hard-fought three points, and their spirits are high right now.
They favour defence and counterattack. We need to bring one hundred percent focus. There's no room for letting up, not even for a second!"
Finally, Deschamps clenched his fist and said, firmly and resolutely, "Remember—our goal isn't just to make it through the group. We didn't come here just to reach the knockout stage.
Fight for round two, take first place in the group—that's our one and only target from here on.
Bring your fighting spirit. Bring everything you've got. For France, for each other, for the dream we all share—give it everything, and leave nothing behind!"
"Give it everything!"
The players echoed back, one after another.
Standing there in the crowd, Julien felt his own anticipation stir for the match ahead.
France was a young team.
And the thing young players played best was a match with tailwind—the more it went their way, the better they played. A draw like this one was exactly the moment for France to go for a ruthless, crushing win.
Build momentum.
Because once the knockout rounds arrived, every match would become a battle between the tournament's elite, blow for blow.
It would be brutal.
Julien felt prepared for that—but he also understood that when the day actually came, plenty of the young players would struggle to adjust.
Violent, reckless fouls were nothing rare at a World Cup.
And if there happened to be some old grudge between two nations, it would only get uglier.
As Deschamps' address came to a close, some players headed back to the hotel, while others still had to sit for interviews arranged by the federation—mandatory ones.
It was tied to the national team's revenue. And, on top of that, there was the matter of image rights—Julien understood this all too well.
The French federation's ownership of the players' image rights was a tangled, unresolved mess.
Only, it wasn't his place right now to be the one who tore that problem open. Once the World Cup was over and his standing within the national team carried more weight, that would be the time to act.
For now—let it be.
In one of the interviews, Evra looked back on an awkward moment from the French team's training base four years ago in South Africa.
He admitted it simply: "I took the captaincy far too seriously back then. It wore me out completely."
At the South Africa World Cup, Evra, as captain, had led a group of players in a boycott—their response to the French federation's decision to send striker Anelka home from the national team.
Afterward, Evra was handed a five-match ban, and the captain's armband was passed to goalkeeper Lloris.
Now thirty-three, Evra went on, "For someone caught right in the middle of that storm, that's exactly how it felt."
Still, Evra added, "But that's all in the past now. What matters most today is that every one of us values what it means to wear this shirt. That's the whole point of this team—respecting the jersey we carry on our backs."
"A lot of the French fans I meet have been kind to me, even with the media painting a different picture of who I was four years ago.
Yes—even when some outlet turns me into the villain of the story, it doesn't worry me.
What matters is how the players, the staff, the fans see me. That's it. And right now, I'm enjoying every bit of this."
The reporter then asked what he made of the current captain, Julien De Rocca.
Evra's mind drifted back to all those small, everyday moments from training. Watching those scenes of relaxed solidarity play out in his head, he broke into a genuine smile.
"He's the real deal—the true captain of this French team. In my eyes, nobody could do it better. Everyone loves him. Julien's always telling us—we play brotherhood football. And it's true. We're brothers."
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