I remember the roar in Santiago back in 2015, a sound that felt like it could shake the Andes themselves. The Chilean national team, La Roja, had just won its first Copa América, defeating Argentina in a penalty shootout. The following year, they did it again, cementing a golden era of South American dominance built on a ferocious, high-pressing style and an unbreakable team spirit. Fast forward to today, and the landscape feels starkly different. The question on every fan’s mind, and one I’ve pondered deeply as both an analyst and a lifelong follower of CONMEBOL football, is this: how can Chile climb back to the summit? The path isn't about finding a magic formula, but about rediscovering a core identity, something embodied in a simple quote from a modern athlete that resonates deeply with that championship era: “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.”
The foundation of Chile’s past success wasn’t merely tactical; it was profoundly philosophical. Marcelo Bielsa’s initial blueprint and Jorge Sampaoli’s intense execution were built on a collective pact of maximum physical and mental effort. That famous pata negra midfield of Arturo Vidal, Charles Aránguiz, and Marcelo Díaz wasn’t the most technically gifted in the world, but their combined work rate, often covering over 115 kilometers per game as a unit, suffocated opponents. They competed for every single ball, in every single moment. This is the essence that feels diluted. Recent campaigns, like the disappointing 2022 World Cup qualifying run where they finished a dismal 7th, have been marked by a concerning passivity. The pressing triggers are slower, the defensive transitions lethargic. You can’t win in South America by waiting. The continent’s football is a war of attrition and emotion; you have to impose your will. Recapturing that defensive intensity, that collective hunger to win duels all over the pitch, is non-negotiable. It’s the baseline. Without it, tactics are irrelevant.
Which brings us to the delicate part: the transition from a legendary generation. Alexis Sánchez, at 35, and Gary Medel, at 36, are still crucially important, but their roles must evolve. We saw glimpses of a future in the 2023 friendlies, where younger players like Víctor Dávila and Darío Osorio showed flashes. But here’s my perhaps contentious opinion: Chile has been too cautious in its renewal. The data, albeit from a small sample size, suggests that the average age of the starting XI in competitive matches has remained stubbornly high, hovering around 29.5 years old in the last qualifying cycle. For comparison, Ecuador’s was closer to 25. The federation and successive coaches must commit to a phased but deliberate integration of youth. This isn’t about discarding the old guard—their leadership is priceless—but about creating a competitive environment where a 22-year-old knows he has a legitimate shot if he outworks everyone in training. That internal competition for places fueled the golden era. Players like Ben Brereton Díaz, now a more integrated figure, need to become consistent offensive pillars, not just promising talents.
Tactically, the world has moved on. The high 4-3-3 press that was revolutionary a decade ago is now standard. Chile needs a modern interpretation. I’m a proponent of a more flexible system, perhaps a 4-2-3-1 or a 3-4-2-1, that can adapt to different opponents. The days of one-style-fits-all are over. The key is finding a coach with a clear, modern philosophy who can teach it effectively. More critically, they must be a master motivator, someone who can instill that quote’s mentality into the DNA of the squad again. It’s about crafting a team that, regardless of the opponent’s name or prestige, steps onto the pitch with the sole purpose of leaving every ounce of effort on it. This mentality transcends skill. It’s what allowed Chile to beat Spain 2-0 in 2014 and Argentina in two finals. They believed they could out-compete anyone.
Finally, there’s the structural element. Chilean clubs’ early exits from continental competitions hurt. The domestic league must be a true development hub. Investment in youth academies aligned with the national team’s desired style is a long-term project that should have started yesterday. We need more technically secure, physically robust players emerging at 18 or 19, ready for the international leap. It’s a big ask, but federations in Uruguay and Ecuador have shown it’s possible with a clear plan.
So, can Chile reclaim its dominance? Dominance in the sense of consecutive titles is a monumental task given the rise of nations like Colombia and a resurgent Uruguay. But can they become a feared, consistent force that no one wants to face, a perennial contender? Absolutely. The blueprint is etched in their own history. It starts not with a fancy new tactical gadget, but with a回归 to a simple, powerful idea: playing to compete and playing to win, every single minute of every single match. It’s about rebuilding a culture where that effort is the minimum standard. The talent, I believe, is there, bubbling beneath the surface. It needs to be harnessed with a modern tactical framework and ignited by that old, familiar fire. When La Roja plays with that signature fury, with that collective heart, they are still capable of beating anyone on the continent. The journey back begins by remembering who they are at their best.