By Franklin — SoFlo Sports Buzz
June 15, 2025 | Miami Gardens, Florida
Let me just say it right up front: I don’t care that the scoreboard said 0–0. That game was absolute chaos wrapped in pink ribbon. Like if you put Lionel Messi, a hurricane warning, and a flamingo in a blender — boom, that was Inter Miami’s Club World Cup debut.
I haven’t felt this level of second-hand adrenaline since I got chased out of a Dolphins tailgate for talking trash about Tua’s headband. But let’s back up.
FIRST, THE BASICS (BUT MAKE IT HYPED)
- Inter Miami CF played their first-ever Club World Cup match at Hard Rock Stadium.
- They played Al Ahly, the Egyptian club with more trophies than my Uncle Bobby has unpaid parking tickets.
- It ended 0–0, but that’s just on paper. In reality? This match had:
- A saved penalty
- A Messi masterclass
- Woodwork getting smacked around like a piñata
- Enough heart-pounding moments to power my Apple Watch into full panic mode
USTARI IS HIM.
Let me tell you something — Óscar Ustari has ice in his veins. The man faced a penalty in the first half like it was just another Tuesday in Kendall. He dove, saved it, stared down the shooter like, “Not in my Hard Rock.”
I haven’t seen a save like that since the day I dropped a croqueta in my car and caught it midair. Same energy.
From that moment on, the whole vibe shifted. Inter Miami stopped playing nervous. It was like the pink kits turned up a few shades and the team finally realized: “Hey, we got Messi… maybe we should act like it.”
MESSI’S LEGS, MY HEART
Look, I don’t know how the man’s still pulling magic at this age, but Messi nearly ended Al Ahly’s tournament runlike three times.
That free kick in the second half? Hit the post so hard it echoed in Hialeah. That curling laser in stoppage time? Crossbar abuse. That assist-that-wasn’t to Allende? If it had gone in, I would’ve spontaneously combusted into pink glitter.
Every time he touches the ball, I believe again. In Inter Miami. In destiny. In love.
THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT
Props to the young bloods too. Falcón nearly had the game-winner with a towering header. Allende and Redondo were running like they drank four Cafecito Cubanos. Fafa Picault came in with the energy of a guy who just found out his ex was in the stands. We love that.
RANDOM THINGS I YELLED DURING THIS GAME
- “GET HIM, BUSQUETS, YOU BEAUTIFUL TORTOISE!”
- “WHY IS THERE AN ENTIRE SECTION OF AL AHLY FANS?! WHO GAVE THEM THE GROUP CHAT LOCATION?!”
- “MESSI JUST TOUCHED THE BALL, I NEED A MOMENT.”
- “USTARI FOR PRESIDENT. MIAMI PRESIDENT.”
- “What in the world was I talking about again?”
AND ANOTHER THING
The stadium? LOUD. Like, way louder than I thought it would be for a neutral-site tourney match. But still not full, man. People slept on this. And for what? A $20 ticket deal and you stayed home watching reruns of Suits? Bro.
FIFA should’ve just hired a couple abuelitas to promote this thing on Univision and the place would’ve been at capacity with folding chairs and homemade sandwiches.
NEXT STOP: ATLANTA (AND PORTUGUESE DRAMA)
We face FC Porto next. That’s no joke. Those guys are tactical wizards who’ll try to lull us into a slow game before BAM — they score on a corner and you don’t know what hit you. But we’ve got the tools.
Messi? Check.
Mascherano? Check.
A goalie with guardian angel reflexes? Check.
A pink jersey hotter than Miami asphalt at noon? Double check.
FINAL THOUGHTS FROM FRANKLIN
This match proved something we all suspected: Inter Miami belongs on this stage. They didn’t fold. They didn’t fumble. They grew into the moment, built from the back, and nearly stole the game at the death.
Yes, we wanted the win. But a draw against a club that wins everything in Africa? With Messi hitting the post twice and Ustari turning into a human firewall?
We’ll take it. Proudly. Loudly.
Get ready for Porto. Because Inter Miami ain’t just here to take part — they’re here to make FIFA regret letting ‘em in.