When Azzurri legend and coach Gennaro Gattuso questioned the modern World Cup format in late 2025, I did not hear a technical critique. I heard something familiar, something Africa has dealt with for decades: the suggestion that when the rest of the world rises, Europe somehow suffers

From the looks of it, that argument is not only flawed, it is also revealing.

This is not 1990. And Italy’s problem is not that the world has caught up. It is that Italy has not moved with it.

"Unfair difficulty” illusion

Gattuso’s criticism rests on a premise that collapses under even light scrutiny, that expanding World Cup access has made qualification unfair for European nations.

History tells a different story.

At the 1990 FIFA World Cup, Africa had just two qualification spots.

Two places for a continent rich in talent, diversity, and footballing culture. Yet even within that narrow gateway, Cameroon reached the quarterfinals and reshaped global perceptions.

That achievement did not happen because the system was fair. It happened in spite of it.

For decades, the World Cup leaned heavily toward Europe and South America. It was global in name, but selective in structure.

Entire regions were underrepresented, not because they lacked quality, but because they lacked access.

The expansion to the 2026 FIFA World Cup is not a gift. It is a long-overdue correction.

Europe still holds the largest allocation of places. UEFA remains dominant in numbers. What has changed is that the rest of the world is no longer squeezed into the margins.

And most importantly, qualification remains regional. Africa does not take places from Europe. Asia does not block South America. Each confederation competes within its own framework.

If Italy cannot qualify from Europe, then the problem is not global expansion. It is internal limitation.

A decline years in the making

Italy’s third consecutive absence from the World Cup is often framed as a shock. In reality, it is the logical outcome of a slow, visible decline.

The first World Cup final I remember watching in its entirety was the 2006 edition.

Italy, at its peak, built on the spine of Juventus, AC Milan and Inter Milan. A team rooted in its domestic strength, disciplined, experienced and unshaken on the biggest stage.

And of course, that moment. Zinedine Zidane’s headbutt on Marco Materazzi, a flashpoint that still defines the final as much as the result itself.

Those really were the good days.

But what followed tells a very different story. After that triumph, Italy failed to evolve. Their academy system stagnated, investment lagged, and while their European rivals modernized and surged ahead, Italy gradually lost ground.

France invested in elite academies and built a production line of world-class talent. Germany restructured its entire development model after early 2000s failures. Spain aligned its identity across all levels of football. Even England, long criticized for inefficiency, embraced modern coaching and youth development reforms.

Italy did not respond with the same urgency.

The consequences are now clear. A reduced talent pipeline. Fewer technically adaptable players. A national team that struggles to dictate tempo against opponents who are tactically sharper and physically prepared.

This is not bad luck. It is accumulated neglect.

Accountability without transformation

The latest setback, a playoff defeat to Bosnia and Herzegovina, forced long-awaited consequences.

Gabriele Gravina stepped down as federation president. Gianluigi Buffon left his role within the national setup. Gattuso’s own position has come under scrutiny.

These exits signal acknowledgment. But acknowledgment is not the same as reform.

Italian football now faces a deeper challenge. It must move beyond reactive decisions and confront structural issues. Youth development, coaching philosophy, tactical evolution, and long-term planning all require fundamental reassessment.

Without that, leadership changes become symbolic rather than transformative.

Myth of declining quality

One of the central arguments against expansion is the fear that increasing the number of teams will dilute quality.

From an African perspective, that claim feels detached from reality.

African players are not on the margins of elite football. They are central to it. They influence outcomes in Europe’s top leagues, including Serie A, the very system Italy draws from.

And at international level, the evidence is undeniable.

The current and controversial AFCON champions, Morocco’s run to the semifinals in 2022, was not an isolated moment.

It was the result of organization, discipline, and a generation of players developed across both African and European systems. It reflected a broader shift in global competitiveness.

The gap has not disappeared, but it has narrowed significantly.

Expanding access does not weaken the tournament. It exposes its true competitive depth.

A narrative that holds the game back

When expansion is framed as a problem, it reinforces an outdated hierarchy in football.

Gattuso's statement gave voice to a persistent Eurocentric bias that still views the World Cup as Europe’s private club with a few invited guests. It implies that growth outside traditional centers is a disruption rather than a progression.

This thinking does more than distort reality. It limits the game.

Football’s global strength lies in its diversity. In its unpredictability. In the emergence of new contenders who challenge established power.

Restricting access does not preserve quality. It preserves comfort.

And comfort, in modern football, is often the first step toward decline.

Italy at a crossroads

Gattuso’s legacy as a player is built on resilience, intensity, and an uncompromising will to compete. Those qualities defined Italy’s success in 2006.

But the modern game demands evolution alongside effort.

Italy’s absence from another World Cup, their third successive edition, is not the result of African inclusion, Asian growth, or a changing global landscape. It is the product of years of hesitation in a sport that rewards adaptation.

From where it stands, the issue is not that the World Cup has changed.

It is that Italy has not changed enough.

The ghost of 1990 is no longer shaping football’s future. But it still lingers in how some choose to interpret the present.

Until Italian football confronts that reality, no reduction in teams, no shift in format, and no appeal to nostalgia will bring it back to where it once stood.