Paraguay

Gatito to everyone in Paraguay, and at thirty-eight the projected No. 1 in the oldest of Paraguayan traditions, a goalkeeper who has waited the length of an entire career for a World Cup that always seemed to belong to someone else. He is the likeliest pick rather than the certain one: Alfaro has deliberately kept the gloves contested with Gill and Olveira, using the doubt to keep the camp honest, and the veteran's case rests less on raw shot-stopping at his age than on the calm and the command of his box that a side defending this deep needs behind it. After years as the senior man through the qualifying disappointments, he goes back to Cerro Porteño as a fixture of the domestic game, his weight on the group the institutional kind. This is, beyond any reasonable doubt, his one and only World Cup, arriving in his late thirties after the country spent sixteen years away, and there is a quiet justice to the idea that the man who held the line through the lean years gets to stand in it now. A folk-hero lineage runs through this position here, from Chilavert onward, and Fernández is its current, modest custodian rather than its showman.

The future of the position made flesh, twenty-five and the goalkeeper Alfaro is using to keep the senior man honest, a left-footed presence at San Lorenzo in Buenos Aires who represents the post-Gatito tomorrow rather than the present. His handful of caps and his move into Argentine football mark him as the coming man, and the open contest the manager has staged is partly for his benefit, to accelerate a keeper the staff plainly rate. For this tournament his job is to push in training and be ready; in all likelihood he watches, learns, and inherits a shirt that has been a long time turning over.

The third goalkeeper, thirty-three and a late entrant to the national picture after a domestic career that earned him a place at Olimpia, the grandest name in Paraguayan club football. With a single cap to his name he is here for depth and for the competitive edge his presence lends the keeping group rather than for any expectation of minutes. His selection at this age is its own small reward, the senior domestic goalkeeper getting to be part of a World Cup squad after years of doing the unglamorous work at home; barring misfortune he does not play.

The captain and the foundation of everything Alfaro does, thirty-three years old and the spiritual centre of la albirroja, a centre-back whose reading of the game and aerial command are precisely what allow a compact side to absorb real pressure without breaking. He is Paraguay's most-capped outfielder at eighty-eight, and the way he carries the side is felt as much in the dressing room as on the pitch. His club year underwrites the standing: an ever-present at Palmeiras, every minute of his sixteen league matches, with three goals that mostly arrive from the set-pieces he attacks so well, the output of a defender who is also one of the team's likeliest routes to a goal at the other end. The single honest caveat, at his age, is recovery pace across open ground, which is part of why the block sits as deep as it does and is built to keep him out of foot-races. Measured against the side that last reached this stage in 2010, almost nothing survives but the philosophy, and Gómez is the man who embodies it now: part of the hardened core that dragged the country back to the World Cup, on what is surely his final tournament, the last great Paraguayan defender of his line still standing in the centre of the picture.

The left-footed half of the central pairing and, with Gómez, the reason Paraguay can write a serious defensive sentence, twenty-nine and squarely in his peak, aggressive in the tackle and a genuine threat arriving at the dead balls the whole side leans on. His season was a full and demanding one in the Premier League with Sunderland, thirty-three appearances and better than twenty-eight hundred minutes at the top level, the body of work of a defender trusted week to week in England's hardest league, with the bookings that come with his front-footed style. There is a fitness flag to watch: he started against Nicaragua having shaken off injury scares through April and May, and his durability across three physical matches is one of the variables on which the campaign quietly turns. Part of the battle-hardened spine that travels rather than the youth around it, he is in the meat of a career that has taken him across Europe, and this World Cup is the stage on which the qualifying solidity gets tested against the best — the platform a defender of his standing has earned and now has to deliver on.

The projected left-back, thirty-three and one of the senior figures who remember the failures of the lost cycles, picked for solidity over adventure in a system that asks its full-backs to hold their shape rather than overlap — when Paraguay have the ball he tucks in to help form a back three, and going the other way his only brief is to defend. A centre-back by trade as much as a full-back, he brings seventy caps and the positional discipline that lets the block stay compact. He spent the season in Brazil with Atlético Mineiro, keeping him in serious week-to-week football deep into his veteran years. His place is the one open call in the back line, contested by the young tapado Maidana, whose send-off goal made the case for youth, but Alonso's experience is projected to edge the opener. Part of the bridge between the drought and whatever comes next, this is in all likelihood his final tournament, the reward for a long international career spent doing the unshowy work.

The projected right-back, twenty-six and entering his best years, a defensively-minded full-back whose brief in this side is to lock down his channel and prioritise the shape over the overlap. His club football is in Russia with Dynamo Moscow, an out-of-the-way posting that keeps him in regular top-flight minutes if outside the glare of the more familiar European leagues. With sixteen caps he is established without being a senior voice, part of the working core rather than the marquee names, and his job in a counter-attacking team is the unglamorous one of defending first and joining the move only when the moment is safe. This World Cup is the biggest stage of a steady career, the chance for a full-back who does the quiet things to show they hold up against the best.

The senior centre-back held in reserve behind Gómez and Alderete, thirty-four and deep into a veteran phase, a defender of real standing whose aerial presence makes him both reliable cover at the back and one of the men Paraguay look for when attacking a corner. His career took him through West Ham and the Premier League and now back to South America with Grêmio in Brazil, the arc of a well-travelled professional winding down in a strong league. With forty-six caps he carries genuine tournament weight, and in a side this dependent on its centre-backs holding, an experienced third option who threatens from set-pieces is worth more than a bench line suggests. This is surely a last World Cup, the late reward for a long and serious career; his contribution is most likely from the bench, or in the box at a dead ball.

The tapado the local press could not stop writing about, twenty years old and the clearest sign of Alfaro's willingness to bet on youth, a left-back plucked almost from nowhere who repaid the faith by scoring in the Nicaragua send-off. He spent the season with Talleres in Argentina, a heavy workload for a defender so young — around nine league matches and better than seven hundred minutes in the Apertura, two goals and a sending-off among them, the raw, unfinished line of a full-back still learning his trade. He is pushing hard at Alonso's place and could yet force his way in, but the projection has the veteran's solidity edging the opener. For Maidana this World Cup is a breakout stage years ahead of schedule, the future arriving early; whatever his minutes, his selection is the statement of where this team intends to go.

Squad depth at centre-back, twenty-nine and on the fringe of the side, a tall, left-footed defender whose club football is in Argentina with Lanús. With a single cap he is among the least-tested of the outfield group, selected to deepen the central options behind a settled senior pairing rather than to challenge for a starting place. His value is in the cover he provides and the aerial body he adds to a back line built around exactly that quality; barring a run of misfortune ahead of him, his tournament is most likely spent waiting.

A veteran centre-back providing home-grown depth, thirty-five and a fixture of the domestic game with Cerro Porteño, where he keeps company with goalkeeper Fernández. His dozen caps span years on the edges of the national set-up rather than at its centre, and he is here as experienced cover at an age where he is plainly nearer the end than the middle of his career. In a squad that prizes aerial defenders he adds another, and his selection is part of the deep seam of Paraguayan club football this group draws on; his minutes are likely to be few, his role that of the reliable senior hand in reserve.

The screening midfielder who makes the whole compact plan viable, thirty years old and in his peak, the man who sits in front of the back four and wins the ball, refusing to let Paraguay be outnumbered in the zones where they cannot afford it. He does the unglamorous work the system is built around, and he does it as well as almost anyone in his position at this tournament: a standout for Vancouver Whitecaps and comfortably the team's top-rated midfielder in MLS this season, relentless in the duel despite standing only 166cm, the smallest man on the pitch and often the most disruptive. He adds no goals — that is not the job — but his value is in the ones he denies, the second balls he hoovers up, the passing lanes he closes before they open. With Villasanti cut and the engine room narrowed to two, his importance only grows; without him, the defence is exposed, and with him the middle of the pitch becomes a place opponents would rather avoid. This is the prime of a career spent in North America, and a World Cup played on these pitches and against these opponents is one his game is well suited to.

The clearest sign of where this team is going, twenty-three years old and ascendant, the box-to-box midfielder who covers the enormous ground a transition side demands and arrives late in the attack to add the body a grinding side badly needs — and, at €25m, the most valuable man in the squad. His season was a full one in the Premier League with Brighton, five goals from midfield across thirty-two appearances and better than two thousand minutes, the numbers of a young midfielder who has established himself in England's top flight rather than merely survived in it. He is the powerful, two-way engine beside Cubas, and with Enciso out for the opening matches he becomes an even more important source of arriving threat, one of the few reliable ways this team turns its suffering into a goal. He belongs to the future of la albirroja rather than its past, the rising player most likely to use this stage to announce himself to an audience beyond those who already know — a first World Cup as a settled starter, and the platform on which a long international career gets built.

The right-sided runner who, with Enciso sidelined, becomes the most reliable attacking mechanism Paraguay have left, thirty-two and a senior reference in the side, the player who eats up ground the instant the ball turns over and drives inside off the flank to relieve the pressure. He is back in MLS with Atlanta United after his years in the Premier League with Newcastle, and the club line is the familiar one for him: three assists and no goals across his early-season run, the end product as streaky as ever, the running undimmed. His seventy-five caps make him one of the tournament leaders, and there is a real edge in the fact that a man who spent the back half of his career in North America now plays a World Cup on these pitches and against opponents he knows. The perennial question follows him still — whether the decisive final action arrives to match the miles — but in a side this short of creators, his energy in transition is something close to indispensable. This is in all likelihood his final World Cup, a senior figure of the restoration giving the side its most dangerous legs.

Alejandro Romero Gamarra to the records, Kaku to everyone else, and with Enciso out the man tipped to wear the No. 10 — thirty-one and a senior figure, picked less as a creator in the same mould than as the set-piece taker and link player a side this reliant on dead balls cannot do without. His delivery is the thread that runs from Almirón's running and Sosa's breaks to the heads of Gómez and Alderete in the box, and he scored the penalty against Nicaragua that opened the send-off. He plays his club football in the Gulf with Al-Ain, the well-paid late-career posting that keeps him sharp rather than in the European shop window. The newly naturalised Maurício offers a higher-tempo alternative for the role, and the choice between them is among the live ones Alfaro carries into the opener. For Kaku this World Cup, reached after a long and winding career, is the unexpected late stage on which his set-piece craft suddenly matters more than ever — a creative burden that has scattered onto him precisely because the one man who carried it cleanly is in the stands.

The Brazilian-born midfielder folded into the squad early in 2026 after a swift naturalisation, twenty-four and the possessor of a passing, higher-tempo creative profile the side otherwise does without — and, with Enciso injured, a possible tactical fix for the absence that defines the camp. He plays for Palmeiras, one of South America's heavyweights and the club that also supplies Gómez and Sosa, a serious environment for a player still building his international standing on a pair of caps. He is the alternative to Kaku for the central role, the man Alfaro can reach for when the side needs a passer to raise its tempo rather than a deliverer of set-pieces. For a footballer who has only just become Paraguayan, this is a sudden and improbable World Cup, a shop window and an audition at once; how much he plays may hinge on how badly the team needs to find a way to keep the ball.

A young central midfielder offering depth behind the Cubas–Diego Gómez axis, twenty-four and developing his career in Brazil with São Paulo, one of the country's grand institutions. With nineteen caps he is more established than the raw newcomers but not yet a fixture, a combative, mobile midfielder who can cover either of the two deeper roles if the side needs to rotate or refresh. His job this tournament is to be ready to plug into the engine room, and his standing is that of a useful piece on an upward curve rather than a man in the starting conversation; the experience of a top-level camp at his age is part of the point of his selection.

A defensive midfielder providing cover for the screening role, twenty-five and plying his trade in MLS with Orlando City, another of the squad's North American contingent well-acquainted with the conditions this tournament is played in. His sixteen caps mark him as squad depth rather than a starter, the alternative anchor should anything befall Cubas in a position the whole system depends on. He is here for the balance he gives the group and the familiarity with the surroundings, a functional pick whose tournament is most likely spent in reserve, ready to do the unglamorous holding work if called.

A central midfielder who can also play higher up, twenty-four and a club-mate of Almirón's at Atlanta United, his case for the squad helped by the goal he scored against Nicaragua in the send-off. With fourteen caps he is squad depth on the way up rather than a settled name, a left-footed midfielder whose range gives Alfaro another option through the middle. His familiarity with North American football is a quiet asset for a tournament on these pitches, and his send-off goal is the kind of timely reminder that keeps a fringe man in the picture; his role is most likely from the bench, with the upside of a player still climbing.

The projected reference striker, thirty years old and in his prime, the man asked to lead a line built for others to break from behind him — occupying the centre-backs, holding the ball up long enough for the runners to arrive, the unselfish pivot of a counter-attacking side rather than its principal scorer. He has spent recent seasons in Italian football, now with Cremonese in Serie A, a career in the European middle that has made him a dependable senior option without ever quite making him prolific. His forty-seven caps and seven international goals tell the story of a forward whose value to Paraguay has always been about more than the numbers, and in a side that creates by moments rather than mechanism his hold-up play is the quiet enabler of the whole attack. Álex Arce and Isidro Pitta are the physical alternatives Alfaro can turn to as a game-state demands. This is likely a final World Cup for a forward who has carried the No. 9 burden through the lean years, the senior striker giving a young attack its platform.

The tragedy of the camp, and the player Paraguay's entire attacking design was built around — twenty-two years old, the one man on the pitch who could receive between the lines, beat a defender in a phone box and bend a grinding game into a goal from nothing. He left the pitch in tears on 5 June against Nicaragua with a torn thigh muscle, a rotura fibrilar in the right leg that rules him out of the opener against the United States; the medical staff are aiming at the Australia match on 25 June, and he stays with the squad to rehab. His club season makes the loss sting all the more: a productive end to the campaign in Ligue 1 with Strasbourg, three goals and six assists in the league and, per the local press, a dozen across all competitions, capped by a three-assist comeback against Monaco. He is the dream player here, abc and the rest having spent weeks casting him as the nation's great hope, the technician who could lift this team above mere obduracy — the youngest face of the future, now reduced to watching and waiting. The whole shape of Paraguay's tournament bends around whether he can come back, and whether the side can survive long enough without him to make his return matter.

The direct wide threat on the left, twenty-six and entering his best years, the one-against-one runner who holds the width and offers the pace in behind that a transition side needs to punish a turnover — with Enciso out, one of the few players who can conjure something from nothing on the break. His season at Palmeiras was a stop-start one, fifteen appearances but only seven of them starts and a little under seven hundred minutes, two goals and an assist, the line of a wide forward working his way into a heavyweight side. There is a sharpness flag to watch: he featured against Nicaragua after an earlier left-ankle concern, and whether he is fully tuned after a fractured build-up is one of the live questions. Part of the younger attacking layer rather than the hardened spine, this World Cup is a breakout stage for a player whose directness could be decisive precisely because the side's improviser is missing; the chance to turn flashes into the moments that decide tight matches.

The man who claimed the twenty-sixth and final seat, twenty-six and a tall, physical centre-forward whose selection over the stalwart Ángel Romero was the clearest emblem of Alfaro's break with sentiment. He plays in Brazil with Red Bull Bragantino, a Serie A posting that keeps him in good company, and his handful of caps mark him as a fringe pick rather than a settled option. His value is as a different physical profile off the bench — a target to change the game's shape late, an aerial presence when Paraguay need to go more direct. This is a first World Cup and very much a shop window, the reward for current form over reputation, and a chance to make a late case in a squad whose attacking depth is open for the taking.

A penalty-box centre-forward offering a physical alternative to Sanabria, thirty years old and a late-career arrival on the national stage, a big striker whose club football is in Argentina with Independiente Rivadavia. With fourteen caps he is squad depth rather than a starter, the kind of focal-point forward Alfaro can send on to change a game's character when the side needs to play more directly or chase a result. His standing is that of a useful late bloomer rather than a long-established name, and this World Cup, reached at thirty after a career spent away from the spotlight, is an unexpected stage for a striker who has earned his place the hard way.

The veteran of the forward line, thirty-five and plainly nearer the end than any other phase, a hard-working centre-forward whose career has been built largely in Argentine football, now with Independiente. His twenty-two caps came late and span the edges of recent squads rather than their core, and he is here as experienced depth and a different physical option among the strikers. In a last-dance tournament for a forward of his age, his role is most likely from the bench or in reserve; his selection is the quiet recognition of a long, honest career, and a senior body to lean on in a young and open attacking group.

The other tapado the local press fixed on, twenty-four and a tall, quick winger who survived to the final list and represents, with Maidana, Alfaro's appetite for refreshing the pool. He spent the season in the English Championship with Portsmouth, twelve appearances and a goal in a demanding second-tier environment, the apprenticeship of a wide forward still establishing himself in European football. With a pair of caps he is among the least-tested of the squad, a bet on potential rather than a man in the starting conversation. For Caballero this World Cup is a breakout call-up and a first major stage; whatever his minutes, his presence is part of the same refreshing of the pool that runs through this squad across its generations, the future being brought into the tent early.