- September
8
2025 - 5

Forty thousand fans, no goals, plenty to argue about
More than 40,000 people packed into Oakland Coliseum and got a tense test rather than a spectacle. Mexico vs Japan finished 0-0, a draw loaded with storylines: a VAR intervention that left Mexico with ten men, a late wave that almost stole it, and two teams treating a friendly like a dress rehearsal for 2026.
The pattern set early. Japan kept the ball and moved it with confidence, sliding passes from side to side, baiting Mexico out of shape and then piercing the next line. It looked smooth and controlled, the kind of possession you expect from a side that already punched its ticket to the World Cup. But control without edge is just choreography, and for long stretches Japan's neat triangles never turned into clear shots.
Mexico leaned into patience. The back line held firm and compact, guiding Japan's attacks toward less dangerous areas and trusting the midfield to disrupt passing lanes. When Mexico did win it, the first pass forward was quick and direct, aimed at finding space behind Japan's fullbacks. The idea was sound. The execution came and went.
Up front, the rhythm wasn't there. Alvarado and Vega had busy spells, drifting inside to link play or stretching wide to open room for runners, but the final touch kept slipping away. A heavy first touch here, a rushed cutback there. Mexico reached the edge of the box often enough; they just didn't arrive with control.
The match woke up with the first real scare. Japan carved Mexico open down the left, a low ball flashed across the area, and Malagon read it early, got low, and smothered the shot. It looked simple only because he made it so. On the other end, Suzuki produced a strong save of his own, standing tall at his near post after a quick Mexican break carved out a rare look.
The turning point came with the card. Cesar Montes went in for a challenge, the referee showed yellow, and then VAR called him to the monitor. After a long look, the yellow became red. That swing matters. Mexico lost a center-back and, with him, the margin for error they had been managing so carefully.
Down a man, Mexico adjusted fast. The shape dropped into a narrow line of four with a lone forward willing to run lost causes. The message was clear: stay organized, survive the next ten minutes, and then pick your moments. Japan sensed the opening and pushed higher. The ball stayed in Mexico's half for long stretches, but the breakthrough never came.
Malagon stayed sharp, punching away a teasing cross and getting two hands behind a skidding effort from the edge of the box. The defenders in front of him won their duels, clearing second balls and blocking shots that would have troubled the goal. For all of Japan's territory, clean looks were scarce.
Then came the twist. Even with ten, Mexico refused to settle. In the final minutes, they pushed both fullbacks a touch higher and gambled on set pieces. One corner nearly did it—an out-swinger met at the near post, a flick that forced Suzuki into a reactive save and a scramble that ended with a whistle and a few relieved faces in blue.
- Japan's early control: long spells of possession, little end product.
- Malagon and Suzuki: one big save each to keep it level.
- VAR upgrade: Montes' yellow turned to red, Mexico down to ten.
- Late Mexico surge: a dangerous corner, a blocked shot in stoppage time.
There was controversy wrapped around the VAR decision, as there always is. The process worked as designed—on-field call, video review, final upgrade—but it changed the temperature of the game. Mexico had to rip up the plan on the fly; Japan had to find a higher gear in the final third. Neither side fully solved the problem the other posed.
From a prep standpoint, the night still had value. Mexico, already qualified for 2026 as a co-host, tested defensive resilience, game management, and set-piece discipline under stress. Playing on U.S. soil also mirrors the tournament reality: different stadium, different surface, massive crowd, and a need to turn atmosphere into energy without losing control.
Japan, already in the World Cup on merit, got what it came for too. The team reinforced its defensive structure—the back line stayed compact, the midfield screened well—and the ball circulation stayed crisp even when Mexico sat deeper. The missing piece was speed in the box. More penetration runs, faster combinations around the penalty area, and a willingness to take on defenders will be the notes from this tape.
Tactically, the contrasts were clear. Japan used a patient build, the fullbacks providing width while the midfield rotated to create passing lanes. Mexico countered with a mid-block that pinched the center, steering play wide and backing the aerial duel on crosses. After the red card, Mexico's switch to a tighter 4-4-1 made the central lanes even harder to exploit. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective.
For Mexico's attack, the lesson is sharper than the result. Getting Alvarado and Vega into better body positions earlier—receiving on the half-turn rather than with back to goal—would help them connect the last two passes. The spacing between the front line and the midfield also needs a tick more cohesion; too often second balls fell to Japan because Mexico's nearest support lagged a step behind.
The fine margins showed up on set pieces as well. Mexico's deliveries improved late, and the movement at the near post caused problems. Japan, on the other hand, defended restarts well for most of the night, with the goalkeeper decisive off his line. In a tight game like this, one lapse decides everything. Neither side blinked.
Physically, both teams looked in good condition for a September window. The tempo dipped only briefly after halftime and rose again after the red card as Japan chased the win and Mexico chased moments. The substitutes brought energy without breaking the structure, which is exactly what staffs want in tune-up matches.
And the crowd? Loud, engaged, and relentless. Every 50-50 had a soundtrack. That matters. Players will see more of this in 2026. Learning to handle the noise—good or bad—is part of the job.
What this stalemate actually says
For Mexico: the defensive spine held, Malagon delivered, and the team showed the nerve to push late with ten. The attack needs cleaner touches in Zone 14, and the discipline piece—avoiding risky tackles that invite VAR—will be a talking point in the film room. Still, the mentality on display in the final minutes will please anyone who cares about response and grit.
For Japan: the identity is clear, and the floor is high. Possession control and defensive shape travel well. Turning dominance into danger remains the next step. If the front line adds a bit more directness and the midfield injects quicker tempo around the box, this team will be a nightmare at the World Cup.
So the box score says 0-0. The tape says more: two qualified teams testing ideas under pressure, a red card tilting the field without deciding the outcome, and a reminder that in matches like this, the smallest details—one touch, one run, one decision—separate relief from celebration.