It always felt like we’d end up here.
England and Spain. Again. Two teams that have spent the last three years reshaping the architecture of the women’s game now meet in Basel with everything on the line and nothing to prove.
Since that 2023 World Cup final in Sydney, where Spain outmaneuvered and outclassed England in a nervy 1–0, both sides have evolved. They’ve traded wins in the Nations League, rotated new stars into the spotlight, and survived tournament chaos in ways that speak less to luck than to institutional maturity. This isn’t just a rematch. It’s a referendum on how the women’s game has shifted and who holds the balance of power now.
What’s changed and what hasn’t
Spain remain Spain. The midfield is still a metronome, controlled by the cool footwork and peripheral vision of Aitana Bonmatí, Alexia Putellas, and Patri Guijarro. They’re still the team that can make 600 passes feel like 6,000. But Montse Tomé’s side has added steel. In place of the off-field disarray that marred their World Cup celebrations, there’s now a quiet unity and conviction. They believe they’re the best team in the world because, by most metrics, they are.
And yet, England have something Spain don’t: a knack for making finals chaotic, human, and just plain hard to win. Sarina Wiegman’s Lionesses don’t dominate possession. They don’t necessarily score first. But they survive. They bend and bend, then hurt you when you least expect it. Ask Sweden. Ask Italy. Ask Spain, even, back in February when England’s pressing suffocated them in a Nations League win at Wembley.
Wiegman has never lost a Euro match in charge of England. Her teams know how to handle a final. They know how to make it ugly if it needs to be. How to impose structure, or tear it up.
Spain, by contrast, still feel most comfortable when the conditions are perfect.
Sunday won’t be perfect.
The battle ahead
This match will almost certainly be decided in the middle third. If Bonmatí is allowed to roam, Spain will control the tempo and dictate when and how the game is played. But England’s Keira Walsh, who knows Spain’s midfield intimately from her stint at Barcelona, may be the most important player on the pitch. She’ll need help, likely from Grace Clinton or Georgia Stanway, to contain the angles and second balls that make Spain so suffocating.
Then there’s the left flank. England have struggled there all tournament. Spain’s Ona Batlle and Mariona Caldentey know it. Expect overloads. Expect crosses. Expect anxiety.
England’s best moments will come in transition. Hemp and Russo will look to attack the space behind Spain’s fullbacks. If England can break quickly and capitalize on the few chances they’ll be afforded, they have every reason to believe.
If Spain score first, especially early, the game could settle into the kind of rhythm England hate. A slow suffocation. A possession masterclass. A reminder of Sydney.
Why this final matters
Win or lose, this match cements both teams as the standard-bearers of this era. Germany, the U.S., and the Scandinavian powerhouses may return on the World Cup stage, but right now, the sport runs through England and Spain. These are the two sides shaping the future, at club and national level, on and off the pitch.
But only one gets to lift the trophy.
For Spain, it would mean a World Cup and Euro double. It would vindicate the players who stood their ground against federation dysfunction and came back stronger. It would give Alexia Putellas the one major title she’s still missing. It would end the debate.
For England, it would be revenge and redemption. It would validate Sarina Wiegman’s third act. It would prove that the Lionesses aren’t just one-hit wonders, but a force that can endure, adapt, and reign again.
Who needs it more? That’s impossible to say.
But that’s what makes it a final.
