The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the training pitch in San José. Óscar Duarte stood at the edge of the penalty area, arms crossed, watching the younger defenders go through their drills. His expression was unreadable—stern but patient.

“Move your line! Don’t give them space to turn!” he called out, his voice clear and commanding.

One of the newcomers jogged over during a break. “How do you always know where the striker’s going to move?”

Duarte cracked a rare smile. “Because I’ve faced a thousand of them. They’re all different—but they all show you something if you’re watching closely.”

Later that evening, as Costa Rica faced off against a strong opponent, Duarte was once again the immovable force at the heart of the defense. Sliding tackles, timely interceptions, and perfectly timed headers—he delivered them with veteran grace. He wasn’t flashy. He didn’t need to be.

When the final whistle blew and the clean sheet was intact, he clapped his teammates on the back and said simply, “Another day. Another wall built.”