See, I’ve been having this stupid argument with a mate, Geoff, who thinks he’s some kind of football historian. This guy lives and breathes that tiki-taka stuff, right? He keeps banging on about how the real Spanish golden generation was the 2008-2012 crew. I tell him, “You’re an idiot, Geoff. The 2002 team had more grit, more heart, and they were straight up robbed.” This back and forth has been going for weeks, just relentless noise in our WhatsApp group. I finally snapped. I told him I was going to shut him up once and for all by compiling the definitive list, not just the starting eleven, but the whole damn squad, and I’d show him where these giants ended up. I wasn’t just doing a quick Google search; I was going to build the proof, line by line. I had to document it.
I kicked off the whole process late Tuesday night. I dragged my old laptop out from under the bed—the one with the sticky keys—and fired up a blank text document. The first thing I did was a total brain dump. I just splashed out the names I remembered immediately: Casillas, because come on, the kid was a prodigy; Raúl, the captain, the legend; and Hierro, the rock at the back. I knew those guys were the superstars. But then I hit a wall immediately. Who were the fullbacks? Who was the third choice keeper? I couldn’t for the life of me pull those second-tier names. This is where the practice really began—the messy, deep dive.
The Digging and the Cross-referencing Grind
The initial search was a mess. I poured over archived tournament pages. I scrolled past endless arguments on old, dusty forums about that penalty shootout. The goal wasn’t just to find the roster, but to verify it across three different sources because you know how the internet is—one guy makes a mistake and 50 people copy it. I started a simple numbered list in my document and began populating the names.
I wrestled with the midfield. I remembered Baraja and Helguera, sure, but then I unearthed names like Juanfran and Valerón, two absolute magicians who often get forgotten because the headlines always went to Raúl. I had to check if Luis Enrique was there (he was, near the end of his run). I spent a good two hours just on the roster itself, confirming the club they were playing for at the time. That was critical to paint the picture of where they stood in 2002. That team wasn’t a bunch of finished products; they were hungry lions.
Once the 23 names were solid, the real work started: the “Where are they today?” part. This involved a whole new level of detective work. You can’t just type a player’s name and get a straight answer. I had to trawl through different types of websites. For the big names, it was easy—they’re managers, pundits, or high up in club administration. But for guys who faded out early? That’s where you earn your stripes.
I chased down rumours about one defender who supposedly went into non-league management. I found another who became a youth coach back at his original club. I tracked one guy, totally forgotten, who is now apparently running a vineyard. That’s the good stuff! The names I compiled and what I found out about their current status just proved my point to Geoff—this crew was tough, diverse, and didn’t just disappear into the TV studios.
The Star Españoles and Their Paths
Here’s the breakdown of the guys who really shone in that tournament—the big players who carried the squad. I put a big star next to the ones I knew Geoff would have forgotten about, just to annoy him:
- Iker Casillas: The keeper. The kid. He went on to win everything, obviously. Today, he’s dipped his toes into administrative stuff and seems to be enjoying a more relaxed life. He proved you don’t have to be a loudmouth pundit to stay relevant.
- Fernando Hierro: The Captain, the leader. He was already a legend. Post-career, he dived straight into coaching and management roles, taking up jobs with the Spanish national team and even popping up in the Middle East. He always stayed in the game.
- Raúl González: The superstar. The face of Spain for a generation. After his playing career wound down, he moved into coaching, managing Real Madrid’s B-team (Castilla). He sticks to the side of the pitch, doing the hard graft.
- Juan Carlos Valerón: Ah, my star! The genius playmaker. The guy who could unlock any defence. After playing until he was ancient, he got involved in coaching back in the Canary Islands. The football world needed his brain; he’s now giving back at Las Palmas.
- Joaquín: The winger, the pure entertainment. He played forever, a true loyalist to Betis. Now he’s a massive celebrity, doing TV appearances and just being the most charming, hilarious former player out there. He didn’t leave the spotlight, he just changed his stage.
I completed the full 23-man list, typing up a short, punchy sentence about where each guy is now. I took pride in the fact that it was all compiled by me, sourced from hours of just digging around, arguing with old data and verifying every single detail. It wasn’t just a list; it was evidence. I sent the whole document straight to Geoff, without a single word of commentary. He read it, and for the first time in weeks, he was quiet. That’s the feeling. That’s why you do the practice. Not for likes, but to prove a point and share the history you uncovered.