We want to win it for him as well
In Houston, Portugal opened its World Cup campaign not merely as a football nation chasing glory, but as a team in mourning. Diogo Jota, the Liverpool forward who died in a car crash alongside his brother last year — just thirteen days after his wedding — never played in a World Cup. His teammates, wearing bracelets bearing his name gifted by Portugal's Prime Minister, stepped onto the field carrying both a nation's hopes and a friend's unfulfilled dream, reminding the world that sport is always, at its core, a human endeavor.
- A beloved teammate is gone — Jota died suddenly, leaving a new wife, three young children, and a dressing room that could barely find the will to train.
- The grief is not symbolic but physical: each Portuguese player wears a bracelet inscribed with Jota's name, a gift from the Prime Minister designed to be worn during live competition.
- Portugal's opening match — a jarring 1-1 draw with DR Congo — revealed a squad navigating the rare tension of competing at the world's biggest tournament while processing genuine loss.
- Midfielder Vitinha gave voice to the dual mission: this is not just a World Cup campaign, it is a collective act of devotion to a man who dreamed of being here and never got the chance.
Diogo Jota never played in a World Cup. The Liverpool forward died in a car crash last year alongside his brother, leaving behind three young children and a wife he had married just thirteen days before. As Portugal opened its tournament against DR Congo in Houston, his absence was felt as something close to a presence.
Portugal's manager Roberto Martínez named Jota an honorary squad member — an acknowledgment that grief, too, travels with a team. The country's Prime Minister, Luís Montenegro, went further, presenting each player with a bracelet bearing Jota's name alongside their own. The bracelets were worn during the match itself, a deliberate choice the players made together. Midfielder Vitinha described receiving them with quiet sincerity: not as ceremony, but as commitment.
For Liverpool's players, the loss had been deeply disorienting — the empty locker, the missing voice, the daily reminder that someone they trained beside would never play again. That same grief now travels with the national side. Vitinha put it plainly: the team wants to win not only because it is a World Cup, but for him — for a man who dreamed of this stage and never reached it.
Portugal's squad is formidable on paper, with Cristiano Ronaldo, Bruno Fernandes, Bernardo Silva, and João Neves among its ranks. But the team's deeper motivation may be harder to quantify — a shared resolve to carry forward the dream of a fallen friend, one match at a time.
Diogo Jota never got to play in a World Cup. The Liverpool forward died in a car crash last year, along with his brother André Silva, leaving behind a wife he had married just thirteen days earlier and three young children. Now, as Portugal takes the field for its opening match against DR Congo in Houston, the team carries something heavier than the usual weight of national expectation. They carry grief.
When Portugal's manager Roberto Martínez selected his squad for this summer's tournament, he named Jota as an honorary member—a gesture that acknowledged both the player's absence and his presence in the team's collective consciousness. The Portuguese Prime Minister, Luís Montenegro, went further, gifting each player a bracelet inscribed with their own name alongside Jota's. It was a physical reminder, something to wear during matches, something to touch when the pressure mounted.
The bracelets appeared on wrists during Portugal's first game, a shocking 1-1 draw against DR Congo. Midfielder Vitinha explained the choice to reporters with careful precision: the Prime Minister had ensured the bracelets could be worn during play, and the players had decided together to use them. "We received it with a lot of affection," Vitinha said. The decision was not ceremonial. It was deliberate.
For Liverpool's players, the loss had been disorienting. Teammates admitted they struggled to concentrate on football while processing the death of someone they saw daily, someone they trained with, someone they knew as a friend. The grief was not abstract. It was the empty locker, the missing voice in the dressing room, the knowledge that a person they cared about would never play again. Now, as Portugal's campaign unfolds, that same grief travels with the national team.
Vitinha articulated what the tournament means beyond the usual calculus of wins and losses. "We feel this and we want to win it, not just because it's a World Cup and it's everybody's dream, but for him as well," he told CNN Sports. Jota had always dreamed of playing in a World Cup. He will not get that chance. But his teammates will carry that dream forward, will compete not only for Portugal but for a man who should have been among them.
The tournament also marks the return of Cristiano Ronaldo, a living legend still defying age as he makes his first World Cup appearance of the summer. Portugal's midfield—anchored by Bruno Fernandes, Vitinha, Bernardo Silva, and João Neves—is considered among the tournament's strongest. But the team's true strength may lie in something less tangible: the collective resolve to honor a fallen teammate by achieving something he never could.
Portugal faces DR Congo in Houston at 1 p.m. ET. The match is a group-stage opener, one of dozens happening across the tournament. But for Portugal's players, it is something more. It is the first step in a campaign shaped by loss, by absence, by the weight of carrying forward the dreams of someone who will never take the field.
Citações Notáveis
We received it with a lot of affection and we chose to use it— Vitinha, Portugal midfielder, on wearing the commemorative bracelets
We feel this and we want to win it, not just because it's a World Cup and it's everybody's dream, but for him as well— Vitinha, Portugal midfielder, on the team's motivation
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does this story matter beyond the sport itself?
Because it's about what happens when grief enters the arena. These players aren't just competing for a trophy—they're carrying the unfinished business of someone they loved. That changes the emotional texture of everything they do.
The bracelets seem like a small thing. Are they?
They're not small at all. They're a way of saying: he's here, even though he's not. Every time a player looks down at their wrist during a match, they're reminded of why they're playing. It's a physical anchor to something that can't be forgotten.
Did Jota's death affect how the team played before this tournament?
Yes. His Liverpool teammates struggled to focus on football while grieving. That kind of loss doesn't just disappear. It lingers. Now Portugal has to channel that grief into performance, which is incredibly difficult.
What would it mean if Portugal wins the World Cup?
It would mean they achieved something Jota never could. That's the weight they're carrying. It's not just about national pride anymore—it's about honoring a teammate's dream that will never be fulfilled.
Is there pressure in that, or purpose?
Both. Purpose can feel like pressure. But Vitinha's words suggest the players see it as purpose—something that gives the tournament deeper meaning than just winning.