Apparently, light travels faster than sound. Apologies to Galileo Galilei, but the Italian clearly never went to Portugal.
Because you hear them before you see them, the Portugal fans.
Generally, Sion is a city all but overwhelmed by vineyard-streaked mountains in Switzerlands Valais region. An unspoken serenity is all that can be found in this Swiss-French paradise.
That is until 4pm on Friday afternoon, five hours before Portugals must-win Euro 2025 group stage match against Belgium. From this point, Sion is transformed into a pulsing heart, its BPM dictated by an innocuous-enough-looking Portuguese man who bangs a drum that is almost the size of a human being with the rhythm of a thousand jet-engine-propelled arms.
And its glorious, really. At full-time in Sions Stade Tourbillon, after a dramatic 2-1 defeat to Belgium, it was still glorious. It probably shouldnt have been.
Portugal are out of Euro 2025, the third successive time they have boarded the plane home without tasting knockout football. This summer, they leave with two defeats, one draw, two goals scored and eight conceded.
For a team tipped by many to be the tournaments dark horses, it is a disappointing end.
Yet, like the Argentine clubs in the Club World Cup, there is an element of disappointment at having to wave this team goodbye, because by association, it means saying goodbye to the Portugal fans.
In a sport that is angrily wrestling with its concept of fandom what it means, who it is, do they like friendship bracelets and colour swatches or not Portugals fans are a kind of weird harbour, a vociferous, green-flared beast of passion and thunder that seems to never run out of juice.
They were up for it on Friday. Portugals mission before kick-off was simple enough: win, score loads, pray for a Spanish favour against Italy. Yet, the first two assignments (win, score goals) were the very ones they have been unable to accomplish this calendar year. In their past nine matches in 2025, Portugal have managed one win (1-0 against Belgium in the Nations League) and scored just six goals, failing to score in four. In their first two group stage games against Spain and Italy respectively, Portugal managed an xG of just 0.29 and 0.31. From both matches, Portugal registered a combined two shots on target from 12. Overall performances have been erratic: defence an elective choice, moments of brightness ultimately descending into bodies desperate flailing onto the grass, good chances agonisingly missed.
Portugals fourth shot in the first-halfs final minutes on Friday was its own kind of metaphor for their struggle. Bullied by Belgium for nearly 40 minutes, an errant pass bounced fortuitously above Belgiums backline for Ana Capeta to pounce onto, only for the 27-year-olds attempted lob of keeper Lisa Lichtfus to be harmlessly snaffled in pure anticlimax.
Capetas head was immediately in her hands. This was not the first time, and it was certainly not the last. Five minutes into the second-half, the next best chance arrived as 22-year-old Barcelona midfielder Kika Nazareth Portugals best player on the pitch despite undergoing surgery in March on ligament damage in her left ankle softly laid the ball off into the path of Capeta. There was so much space. Time. Opportunity. Capetas shot was straight at Lichtfus. Heads went into hands.
But still Portugal poured forward in attack. Maybe not with the most composure or finesse, but damned if not with spirit and spit.
And the challenge became not drawing a big bold line between the unceasing pound of drums, the undulating flapping of flags, the rising tide of song, with the teams breathless second-half charge. As the Sion sky fell black, Portugal adopted a sense of carnage or bust: an xG of 2.35, 30 shots with seven on target, including, finally, cathartically, Telma Encarnacaos lone goal in the 87th minute assisted by Nazareth, who is so clearly the present and future of this football nation as it builds itself on the womens stage. The goal inspired an unleashing, a guttural cry into the black Sion sky from the sea of red and green behind Belgiums goal. Because maybe all this noise, this song, this willing into life, was worth it.
It is why this tournament will miss the Portugal fans, their shirts twirling above their heads, swathed in burning green flare smoke. Yes, the noise is great and unrelenting, but it is how they use it. Sometimes angrily, often in spite of what is happening before them, but specifically how they descend on a place and, rather than annexe it, amplify it, sweeping it up in solid sound. From there, youre at their mercy, your pulse and subconscious now a Portuguese play thing, peaking and falling on their time, in line with their preferred crescendos.
If only football were so controllable.
Portugal are not the only fans like this. Finland, Wales, and the Netherlands have been transforming Swiss cities, however briefly, into their image. Already, Euro 2025 has had to say goodbye to two. By Sunday, it could be two more.
But the echoes remain, here in Switzerland, but potentially reverberating back home, where progress and evolution can take hold if harnessed. Because there is a difference between believing in something and simply being there.
As the stadium announcer read out Group Bs standings, with Spain at the top, followed by Italy and Belgium, then Portugal, cradled at the bottom following Janice Caymans thumping injury-time winner for Belgium, the words of congratulations to Italy and Spain were swallowed up by Portuguese song. As the players walked solemnly towards their fans, they were embraced. Their tournament is over, but their song is unceasing.
This article originally appeared in The Athletic.
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